Page 8 of Labor of Love

The day I left, freedom rang. Though he has a different side to that story.

“...and Parker, being the rational one—he thinks me buying a camel is unnecessary.” Karli’s mid-sentence as I tune back in. “But I know its social media would take off.”

“Exploiting a camel for money?” This girl has the most random ideas, but they’ve all been great financially. “Your parents’ ranch is already so full.”

“I could make it work, Layla.” She glances at the crowd before the wheel descends. “We need to hurry off. The funnel cake line is short for once!”

“You go,” I say as we step out of the cart. “Clint walked toward your next destination, and I’d rather not run into him.” Pausing, she wants to question me, but her one-track sweet brain lets it go. “We’ll talk later.”

Karli ventures off as the colored lights blur, and the hum of my surroundings fades into white noise. A comfort settles in my chest as I aimlessly walk through the fairground. The town traditions have remained the same for as long as I can remember. Though I’m more introverted, they’re something I look forward too.

“Oh––” My muscles cement, realizing who I bumped into. I might be stiff, but I turn to leave. His hand grabs my forearm, grip tightening as my gut sinks. “Clint.” There’s a warning to my tone, glancing around at his scumbag friends.

“Your body’s still drawn to me.” Clint’s smirk twists my stomach. “I know it’s hard, but it’s time you move on unless you can live up to my expectations.”

“You were an inconvenient bump in the road,” I bite out as I pull my arm back, wincing as he digs his nails in deeper.

“Yet you keep coming back for more.” Alcohol strong on his breath has my stomach turning.

“Go to hell.” Pulling my arm away with more force, he pulls me against him. “Let me go!” There’s slight relief that we are in public because we are starting to draw attention.

“You’re a little moth to my flame, Layla.” I’d like to light him on fire. “You want me to take you back?” He sets me free with a small shove.

“Hey!” The voice coming from behind me turns my blood cold. “Don’t ever lay a fucking hand on her.” Stetson towers over us, somehow becoming more attractive over the years.

I hate it...but do I?

“Look who the rodeo washed up,” Clint coos. “Think you’re all tough after thrusting around on bulls?”

His friends snicker.

“Stay away,” I say, staying level and firm, but Clint takes a step closer. Every nerve is running tenfold through me, but I hold my composure. I hate that he still has this effect on me.

“You bumped into me,” he barks with a grin I wish I was strong enough to damage.

“Leave her alone,” Stetson growls. Their rivalry dates back to middle school. Clint treated women like shit and Stetson was always in trouble for shoving him out of the way. Though Clint seemed like a changed man when he decided to show interest in me...at first.

“All good, rodeo clown.” Clint lifts his hands and looks at me. “Trashy pussy isn’t my thing.”

“Son of a bitch.” Stetson grabs him by the shirt, retracting his arm, hand bent in a fist.

Gasping, I jump forward, wrapping my hands around his bicep. At least, that’s what I try to do with how much muscle is there. “This isn’t your battle.”

“The hell it is!” He lifts him higher as Clint balances on his toes. “This piece of shit doesn’t get to talk to you like that.”

“My dad’s the mayor.” Clint and his friends snicker. “Wouldn’t want him hearing about you picking a fight with me while I was minding my own business.”

“Grow some balls,” I mutter under my breath. “Always hiding behind daddy.”

“I love that you think about my balls.” Maybe it’s me feeding off Stetson’s testosterone, but while he has him hanging like a punching bag, my fist raises and decks Clint’s jaw.

Except he barely flinches because I’m too damn short.

“Just like your momma.” Clint chuckles with a wink. “Wanting it rough like a cheap whore.”

Arms pull me back, and Karli’s perfume hits my nose. Funnel cake powder clouds around us as her treat falls to the ground. Stetson throws a hard punch, blood splattering and dropping Clint like a sack of potatoes.

“Don’t even think about thinking of Layla.” Stetson turns to us, swipes a hand over his jaw, and looks at Karli. “Thanks for pulling her back, Sis. Nice to see you again.”