Bottle in hand, I turn away from the shelves behind the bar to make her drink, and catch her, very obviously, staring at my ass. Pouring her whiskey and ginger ale into a glass, I slide it across the bar to her, daring her to make eye contact with me, one eyebrow raised in question.
She looks me right in my face, staring me down, like she’s daring me to say something in return. But I can see the blush, the crimson spreading across her cheeks. It’s entirely too cute.
I turn away, gathering my wits.
Cute? Honestly.
Walking out of the backroom, covered in sweat and half-dressed, I wasn’t expecting her. Her sweet voice calling out to me, its light southern drawl infiltrating my brain, threw me off balance. Seeing the blanket I gave her held possessively againsther chest, I wanted her to keep it. I wanted her to have the comfort it was so obviously offering her.
Her blonde hair is braided in a single thick braid thrown over one shoulder, her t-shirt a bit too big for her but I can make out the soft curves of her hips, the fullness of her. She looks soft, huggable.
“So, Duke, Mrs. Cox said Waylon’s is your bar.” It’s not a question, just a statement.
“It is. And Lizzie gossips too much for her own good.” My comment draws a snort of laughter from her. A real, live, I’ve never actually heard anyone do before, snort. I crinkle my nose, entertained by this laughing version of the sobbing woman I saw in the ditch. “Tommy got you all set up then?”
“Yep, only hotel in town. I’m hoping to get my car out of that ditch tomorrow, so I can leave next week.” She smiles at me, and it softens my rough edges for a minute. “Know where I can get some tires? Some grumpy ass told me they’re bald.”
I tap my chin, as though in concentration. “Yeah, I might know a guy. I’ll send him your way.”
“Do you want to give me his number, or I can give you mine, and he can just text me?”
“Sure, write it down here.” I pass her a bar napkin and the pen I keep tucked in my pocket. She writes her name and number, the letters all loopy.
“Listen…It’s Friday night. Gets loud. Handsy. Not exactly a place for someone like you. I’m not trying to run you off, I just—” I rub the back of my neck, unsure of how to continue. I’m not trying to kick her out, but she’s a distraction and I don’t know if I can handle watching the animals that will be in here tonight trying to paw her.
“Ah, got it. I don’t need to be where I’m not wanted.” Swallowing back the remainder of her drink, she drops ten dollars on the counter. “Thanks again, Duke.”
“Caroline, I didn’t—” I start, but she has already walked out. Maybe she will get her car out and disappear the same way she appeared. Then, I don’t have to deal with the fact I’ve hurt another woman, one who was looking at me so earnest and open.
Cash walking in through the door a few hours later is exactly what I need to get my mind off the blonde hair and curvy, soft body of Caroline. If I have to keep picturing her every time I close my eyes, it’s going to be the longest night of my life.
“What’s going on, Duke?” He sits on the same stool she vacated earlier this evening, laying his hat on the bar. “Just a beer. Fuck, I’m beat. Moving cattle sucks. Been up since before the cocks rose.”
Laughing, I twist the top off his beer. “Get your sweaty ass hat off my bar, Dick,” I scold him before sliding his beer over.
He grabs the offending hat, settling it on his head. I wipe the spot clean. “Boo hoo, I’m a rodeo champion and I have to move thousands of head of cattle on my little ranch.” I mime crying.
“Wow, you’re an ass tonight,” he responds, laughing.
“That’s what everyone keeps telling me,” I say, picturing a smiling blonde with curves and grass-colored eyes full of laughter sitting in the same spot. “Congrats on the roping buckle. We watched it up here, cheering you on.”
“Did you see that shit showing from Goliath? Cost me my riding win. I’ll get ‘em next time.” He chugs his beer like a man who should be drinking water instead. I fill a glass for him and slide it next to his beer. “Thanks, Dad,” he snarks, rolling his eyes.
“Oh, please, I just don’t want you to collapse in my bar. Drink your damn water.”
“Phhft, you were a lot more fun when we were younger.”
“Yeah, because you were eighteen and I was twenty-one, so I could buy the beer. I was always older and wiser.”
“Yeah, you’re an old ass man.” He tips his beer to me before picking up his water and draining the glass. “Happy?”
“Yep. What else is going on?” I ask him, by way of distraction.
“Same stuff as always. I think maybe I met someone. God, she’s sweet as pie. She’s not from around here and doesn’t know who I am so I can be myself, you know? I don’t have to put on a show. And she’s absolutely stunning. I just want to take her in my arms. Wow, I sound like such a sap.” His words strike true in my chest as I glance over at the bar napkin with her swooping letters, feeling like I understand Cash in this moment.
Caroline doesn’t know me or my history in this town, where everyone knows everything. Like it might be possible to be someone better. If I even can.
“Oh yeah, good for you man. I know you’re all alone up there at the ranch, it would sure be nice if someone was up there with you. You’re almost too old for the show anyway.” I throw the barbed insult, but only because he knows I don’t mean it.
