“Nothing to be ashamed of, son. He’s just better.” Cook turned around, sifting through the bags until he found his giant ass jars of pickles. “Good luck, though!”
Lincoln watched with an open mouth as Cook stormed away, barking to someone chopping onions to drop everything to take care of the jar instead.
“Who knew he loved pickles so much?” I asked, covering my mouth to hide my laughter.
“Fuck off,” Lincoln said, straightening his shoulders. “I’m gonna win.”
“Whatcha gonna win, baby?” Josie asked, coming up behind Lincoln. She wrapped her hands around his waist as he wrapped his arm around her.
“Bishop and I are going head-to-head for the tie-down roping later, and no one thinks I can beat him.” He looked down at her. “But you do, right?”
Josie smiled, not skipping a beat. “Of course you can,” she said, raising up on her toes to kiss his cheek. “You can do anything you set your mind to.” When he looked my way, clearlythinking he was hot shit with Josie backing him, she widened her eyes and shook her head.
She knew damn well he couldn’t beat me.
“Yeah, that’s right, I can. Wait…” Lincoln paused, gripping her chin when she tried to pull away, laughing. “Are you doing that thing where you just tell me what I want to hear?”
Josie placed her hand on his chest. “Yes, but it sounded more convincing this time, didn’t it?”
She squealed as he bent forward, throwing her over his shoulder and smacking her ass. “I’ll see you out there soon,” he said, looking my way. “I just gotta take care of something real quick.”
“If it’s quick, you’re not doing it right!” I called back, earning his middle finger before they disappeared into the barn. “Lovesick fools.”
I looked around, noting how different the ranch looked today. It was all done up for the party, long white tents with clusters of tables beneath them for people to hang out and eat and shoot the shit. Cook had made almost everything you could ever want, but his barbeque had everyone lining up.
Bar tents were marked with a red top, making them easy to find in a massive crowd. That was great, seeing as I couldn’t fucking stomach being around so many people without a bit of liquid courage.
Doug even built a big stage in the middle of it all, ready for a band to play. In the meantime, several speakers were placed throughout the tents and up by the barn, where most of the events were being held.
When Doug’s training clinics took off, he’d built a massive, covered arena, so there weren’t any excuses not to get out and ride. It’d come in handy over the years, especially when he decided to throw a party on a whim. And when Lennox started barrel racing, she’d spent almost every day out there.
I returned to the barn, noting the red tent outside the arenaentrance and heading straight for it. Sure, it might not even be noon, but I was off the clock and intended to make the most of it.
“Lemme get a beer,” I said, pointing to the one I wanted. I waited, tapping my fingers along the bar top, stopping only when I heard a familiar voice to my left.
Fucking Lennox.
“Let me get another,” I said, grabbing and drinking the first beer.
She was in her element, standing in the middle of a group of workers, laughing at something one of them said. They all looked like doe-eyed idiots staring at her like she was the center of their world. I was willing to bet she could tell any of those boys to climb on the back of the rankest bull they could find, and they’d do it without question.
I could blame it on their age, but it likely had more to do with the skin-tight jeans she had on. Lord knows that was my fucking excuse.
When I turned around, she stared at me over their shoulders, watching my every move. Her blue eyes raked down my body, stopping on the buckle at the top of my jeans. The same buckle I’d worn four months ago, the one she’d fought desperately to get off on.
I couldn’t wear the damn thing now without thinking of the heat in her eyes. I could’ve sworn it was almost the same look she was giving me now, but I wasn’t close enough to be sure.
I slowly walked toward the barn entrance, not stopping myself from listening to their conversations.
“You gonna put on a show today?” one of the guys asked. He was a new hire who had only been at the ranch for a few weeks. I think his name was Justin.
“Not today, boys,” Lennox said, batting her eyelashes. “I’m here to drink, listen to some good music, and watch cowboys fall on their asses.”
Each of them laughed, going around in a circle and making sure she knew what event they were participating in. Christ, did these guys really fall for that? Did they think that was enough to make her crawl into the back of their truck for a quick fuck?
I’d fire them right now for being so stupid if it were my choice.
One bold idiot stepped forward, removing his hat and holding it close to his chest. “You mind if I buy you a drink, darlin’?”
