Page 71 of Colt

Mollie nods. “You’re next, Lainey. Swing by the studio anytime. I’ll hook you up with a pair in exchange for letting me pick your brain a bit.” Mollie glances at my drink. “Unless⁠—”

“Pull up a chair.” I pat the stool beside me, feeling a flush of pleasure at the prospect of making a new friend. “Honestly, it sounds like I should be the one picking your brain.”

Cash pulls out the stool and helps Mollie sit. “We love talking shop.”

“Y’all run the company together?” I can’t keep the naked interest—shock—out of my voice.

It’s Cash’s turn to laugh. “We do pretty much everything together these days.”

“Sounds nice.” At this point, I’m just trying not to come on too strong. I should probably wait until after we have a couple drinks to ask them if they want to adopt me.

Beck pours us a new round. Mollie and Cash are an absolute delight to chat with. We talk about a little of everything—work, life, Hartsville.

Bellamy Brooks, her boot company, only took off after she poured years of her life into building a solid foundation. They’ve already had branding done a year or so ago, but they may be looking for something different for their recent foray into men’s boots.

I know how Cash and Mollie met. I’m not sure if they were ever enemies with benefits, though. But hearing their story has my wheels turning. It’s nice to see that crossing personal and professional lines didn’t blow up in Cash’s and Mollie’s faces.

We decide to let Beck choose our food, which turns out to be the best call ever. We nosh on brisket-filled hush puppies served with hot honey butter to start. It’s followed by a local baby greens salad with candied Texas pecans and goat cheese, tossed with a champagne vinaigrette.

The pièce de résistance is a whole roasted chicken basted in the tastiest, tangiest barbecue sauce ever. It’s served with sides of manchego mac ’n’ cheese and swiss chard sautéed with bacon and molasses.

Dropping my fork, I fall back in my chair and put a hand on my overly full stomach. “Beck.”

He smirks. “What?”

“Beck.”

“You’re gonna have to wheel me outta here.” Cash puts his napkin on the bar. “That was delicious.”

I close my eyes. “It hurts to breathe.”

“Babe, I know you were hoping to get laid tonight,” Mollie says, wincing. “But I think I’d crush you if I got on top.”

“We won’t know until you try.” Cash tucks his hand between her thighs. “My cowgirl ain’t a quitter.”

I let out a bark of laughter. “Are they always like this?”

“Yes.” Beck refills my water glass.

Mollie gives my arm a squeeze. “You seriously have to come to the studio. Here, let me give you our numbers, and I’ll get yours.” She turns to dig her phone out of her sequined Fendi purse.

I grin. So she’s a fancy cowgirl. Maybe that’s the kind of cowgirl I am too.

And that’s how I end up adding not one, not two, not three, but four new contacts to my phone. Beck grabs my phone after I enter Mollie’s and Cash’s numbers and puts in his too.

“Just in case you need me to kick anyone’s ass,” he explains.

Cash grunts again. “Colt?”

“How’d you know?” I’m smiling.

“He’s all bent out of shape about Billie and Ryder,” Cash says. “Ryder’s my youngest brother, by the way. I can vouch for his character.”

Ah, so apparently everyone knows about those two. Cool, cool.

“Good. Because I really like Billie, and I feel like she deserves someone special,” I say.

“Second that,” Beck replies with a smile. “And your brother is special, Cash. Colt’ll come around eventually.”