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“Cap here was captain of our football team the only time we ever won state. He isn’t just a hometown hero, he’s football royalty, and that means he can do no wrong.”
“Ahh,” I said. “Gotcha. Football and rodeo, right?”
“Yep.”
“Well, no matter how it happened, I’m just glad it did. I was hesitant at first to move out here, but all it took was one visit for me to see this town was special.”
Cap motioned over near the front paddock where Reed, Cruz, the local vet Gibson, and a man I’d never spoken to but recognized as the mayor stood talking. “Be sure and tell Tristan that. He’s worked really hard to make sure River Gorge is not just welcoming but affirming, as well.”
“I’ll be sure and do that.” I glanced back over to the group gathered around the fire pit. The guy who was sitting next to Nash was telling the others a story of some kind. He was motioning with one hand in the air like a lasso and was holding on to Nash’s forearm for dear life with the other. It must have been an entertaining story because he held everyone’s rapt attention.
I pulled my gaze away from them and made myself listen to the people around me until a middle-aged woman with a rough but kind face called out, “Come and get it, lads and ladies.”
A line had formed by the time we made it up to the serving table, but there was plenty of food to go around. Some of the people filled their plates and went back to the fire pit, but while we were getting ours, Ripley suggested we go to one of the picnic tables.
“This food looks too good for me to drop it on the ground while I’m trying to juggle my plate and my beer.”
He stepped forward to put something on his plate, and Frankie stepped up next to me. “What he means is, he needs his hands free so he can talk because he can’t get a word out without them.”
“And,” Cap added. “He never stops talking.”
“Hey! I heard that!” Ripley called back to us.
A few minutes later, we were all sitting at a long table that had been created by putting two picnic tables together, eating some of the most delicious food I’d ever eaten. These ladies could probably open a BBQ joint in Austin and make bank. Nolan and Cruz had joined us. Cap and Frankie were sitting on one side of me, with Nolan and Cruz on the other. Ripley and Reed had planted themselves across from them.
I’d barely started eating when another couple walked up and slipped into the seats across from Nolan and Cruz.. I knew Miller because he ran the only real estate office in town, so I spoke with him before I rented my apartment, but I’d never met the man who was with him.
Nolan leaned over, speaking in my ear. “That’s Miller and his husband, Landon. Miller went to school with Cap and Ripley. I don’t know if you’ve met them.”
“I met Miller briefly but not his husband, so thanks,” I whispered back.
Everyone here was super nice, but I understood what Nolan said about it being weird sitting at a table with people who’d known each other for ages. Cap, Miller, and Ripley were tossing insults and teasing each other across the table already, and they hadn’t even started eating yet. It felt a lot like dinners at my grandmother’s ranch, though, so it didn’t take but a second before I started to feel at home. At least until Nash and his friend joined us. The only seats left at the table were across from where I sat because, of course they were, so I got to spend the rest of the meal watching this guy flirt with Nash, and that sucked. I knew it was ridiculous for me to be jealous. I’d been the one to tell Nash I didn’t want him, so who was I to be so bent? I needed to pull myself together and stop acting like a little kid who was mad someone else was playing with a toy that wasn’t his anyway.
I forced myself to turn my attention to what Nolan was saying and pretended I didn’t care what they were doing across the table, not that Nash made it easy. For some reason, he kept trying to involve me in their conversation like I gave a crap what they were talking about.
“I tell you what, Spencer over there is great at his job. My shoulder got dislocated a while back, and when he popped it back in, I barely even felt it.”
“Your shoulder was dislocated?” Pretty Boy said, sounding so overly concerned. “I bet that hurt.”
“It did, but I’m all good now.” Nash shrugged his shoulders a few times and pulled them back to demonstrate just how good he was.
“Still, that can leave lasting damage. You should try massage.”
It took everything in me not to roll my eyes. I mean, oh my god, are you serious right now? You should try massage.
“So, Frankie,” I said, trying to change the subject. “I wanted to get with you about making a cake for my grandparents’ anniversary, but things have just been insane. We’ll have to get together next week and talk about it.”
“That would be awesome. I’d love to make their cake.”
“I’m going to grab a refill. Nash, do you want me to grab you another beer?” Pretty Boy asked.
Let me get you a beer, Nash. How about a massage, Nash? I mimicked in my head again, fighting back the urge to roll my eyes.
“Sure, thanks, Steven,” Nash answered and then turned back to me. “What’s wrong? You’ve barely touched your food.”
“Nothing’s wrong,” I grumbled, shoving a piece of brisket in my mouth.
I thought about taking my plate and going over to the firepit where Murphy and her wife were sitting with Margo and a guy who I assumed was her partner, but that would just be childish, so instead, I vowed to ignore them and enjoy the meal.
