Once I’m in my truck, I sit for several minutes, wondering if I can ever change back to the man I used to be or if this is just how I am now.
Old me would have flirted back and gotten his number without an ounce of shame.
Now I’m rude and jealous of his attention to other people.
I think I prefer the old me. Even if it always ended with a broken heart.
My phone pings with a reminder of my meeting with the real estate agent, and I shake off the disappointment of being the only one Diamond doesn’t smile at.
five
Diamond
“Wow. The whole town is here, I think.”
Dad nods as we step into the new rodeo training facility Hunter built. It’s been a journey for him to realize his dream on such a grand scale, but I couldn’t be prouder of my friend.
“I’ll say.” Dad nudges my ribs and lifts his chin. “Who is the man with the face chiselled in stone over there? It looks like if he smiles, he might die.”
A snort laugh breaks past my lips, and I don’t even have to confirm who he’s talking about. The description is far too perfect for the cowboy I still think about daily. Glancing in the direction that has my dad’s attention, I take in Rhett standing like a granite pillar in the crowd. A gorgeous one, but Dad is right. He’d rather be anywhere but here.
“That’s Rhett. He’s the bronc rider Hunter hired to run this place and teach bronc riders.”
My dad turns to me. “Rhett. Like the name you were scribbling in the margin of your notebook? The manifested man of your dreams? That Rhett?”
My dad raises his eyebrow in question, and I mirror it.
“Why were you looking at my notebook?”
“I wasn’t. You left it open on the table when we were talking about a new summer flavour menu at The Thirsty Cow. It was kind of hard to miss.” He fans his hands in front of himself, forming an exaggerated arch in front of us. “Rhett,” he sighs, and I shake my head with a laugh. My dad is the best. A little annoying when he does shit like this, but he’s the best.
“Yes, it’s the same Rhett, but it doesn’t matter, Dad. He’s not interested.” Which is a damn shame since I literally manifested him showing up in town and then, poof, there he was. But after a taste of his sourness, I had a talk with myself, and I decided no matter how hot he’d look in nothing but boots and a hat, I couldn’t risk him trying to dull my shine.
I’ve let too many men like him put me through the wringer and, as disappointed as I was with our interaction, I’ve kept my distance since.
“What? How is that even possible? You’re amazing.”
Looping my arm through his, I pull him away from Rhett and over to where Hunter is. “He didn’t get the memo, Dad.”
My dad comes to a halt, and since our arms are linked, so do I. “Since when do you give up? My son never stops fighting.” His gaze on me is tender but fierce. “Resend the damn memo, Diamond. I’ve listened to you sigh and moon over the man. Don’t stop because of one bad encounter. Give him a chance. He might have just had a bad day. Don’t forget, we don’t always know what others are going through.” A sentiment he’s shared with me many times. He’s right, though. I should know. “Maybe he needs a beautiful man in his life to get that look off his face.”
Only my dad can get me misty-eyed in the middle of a buffet of cowboys, but he’s right. I don’t give up. At least not this easily. “Maybe I will. Come on, let’s rescue Hunter for a minute.”
Kids from Hunter’s 4-H group hop around him like little rabbits on a sugar high. While he’s smiling, I think he could use an interruption.
“Hunter, hi,” I call and wave. Hunter ruffles the hair on a kid’s head before walking my way.
“Diamond, I’ve never been this happy to see you, and you’re not even bringing me coffee.” He waves at the woman herding the kids over to the event ring and sighs. “I love the monsters, but…yeah…thanks for coming! It’s nice to see you, Will.”
Hunter accepts my dad’s hug, and Dad asks him dozens of questions about the facility that I already know the answers to. After a year of listening to planning meetings at his home or The Thirsty Cow, I might as well say I was part of the foundation.
My dad loves talking to my friends, though, and it’s been a while since they’ve had a catch-up. Leaving them together, I wander over to the refreshments and smile when I see all the toppings for hot dogs and catch the aroma of the BBQ out the back. As Hunter likes to say, there’s no problem a hot dog can’t solve, and maybe this is the time to test the theory.
Grabbing a bun from the pile, I squirt a single line of mustard and sprinkle a few onions before walking out to the BBQ. The young man working the grill plops a dog in my open bun, and I wander over to the fence.
This is the back of the facility where the stock providers will load animals and turn them out if needed. Cowboys who bring their own horses would also do the same in the very large, lush space. Right now, though, small groups of people chat together out here, perhaps escaping the crowds from inside like me.
The hot dog is good if you like that kind of thing, and maybe Hunter is right that it can change your mood, because I do feel better now. Maybe that’s just because I was hungry, but the fact still stands that my mood is better now that I’m out here away from Rhett and his super sexy cowboy face.
