Page 10 of Labor of Love

I’m beat, but it’s line dancing night, and Karli says she and Layla have been obsessed.

Me: Give me 2 hours?

I could use a nap and a steak before heading out.

Parker: You bet.

Neon Saloon hasn’t changed a bit. The large dance floor is full of cowboy boots stomping about, and there’s no shortage of neon signs. Parker and I sit at the end of the bar, talking over the music.

“You think Clint will show up tonight?” Parker raises his beer to me.

“Don’t care, as long as he doesn’t harass anyone.” The whiskey warms my throat, but the memory of him degrading Layla boils my blood. The fact that something drove my sweet girl to throw a punch had me wanting to deck him repeatedly. I’ll be damned to let anyone make her feel unsafe.

“Hey, Stetson.” My muscles flinch as a hand meets my shoulder.

“Misty.” She’s always been a stage-five clinger to anyone who gives her a moment of attention.

“I’d be glad to welcome you back to town tonight.” Her hand slides between my shoulder blades, sending a chill down my spine.

“No.” I remove her hand, avoiding her eyes. Sleeping around during my time in rodeo wasn’t my thing, and it’s not starting now.

With a scoff, she trots off. “They're here.” Parker nods, his eyes flicking past me as he grins.

Following his gaze, Layla and Karli head over.

“There’s my girl.” Parker smiles wide, waving like a goofball.

“Hey, bro.” My sister greets me first before stepping between Parker's legs, kissing him.

Anddd my attention shifts to my right.

Layla leans on the counter, cleavage on full display for the bartender, wearing a red dress that hugs her curves.

Her dark curls and bangs frame her smoky eyes, making it impossible for me to look anywhere else. That and her citrus perfume awakens my cock.

“Hey, Rodney.” She smiles, completely ignoring my existence. “The usual, please.”

“Coming up, dear.” He grabs a glass.

Her body shifts my way, glossy lips tugging into a smirk. I guess I’m not completely chopped liver. She’s all woman and everything I’ve dreamed about, but we have a past to discuss.

“About last night.” Layla’s voice lassos me closer, and I’m hanging on to every word. “That battle wasn't yours.”

“I was just––”

A soft finger rests on my lips, cutting me off. My body lights up at this assertive side of her.

“I’m not finished.” Yes ma’am. “Thank you for punching my ex.”

Rodney sets her drink in front of her, and she smiles.

“Ex?” My head spins as she sips her drink, completely unbothered. What the actual fuck have I missed?

“That means we dated, then broke up,” she says with a smart-ass tone. Is this bait? Revenge of sorts by sleeping with the enemy?

“We grew up with him.” My jaw tightens as my molars clamp down. “You know he’s bad news.”

“I knew he wasn’t skipping town and thought I could change him.” Her reply is simply stated, burning through my chest. Downing her glass, she stands, her toned legs on display drawing my eyes over them. They should be wrapped around my neck. “This conversation is over.”