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Drake saw me coming before Sydney did. When she finally did notice me standing behind her, she swiveled around on her barstool. A smile lit up her face and an unfamiliar feeling of joy slammed into my chest, briefly disarming me. I’d been living under a dark cloud for so many years I’d forgotten what it was like to feel good, and this woman with her rare sunshine smiles reminded me of what I’d been missing.
Problem was, she almost never smiled at me. With everyone else, she doled them out frequently and indiscriminately, but not her husband. Much later I’d admit that I both liked it and it also scared the crap out of me. Mostly because I wanted to bask in those smiles, hoard them. In the moment, however, fear made me act like an asshole.
“Hey, look who I finally met.” She tipped her head at Drake who smiled like the cat that had eaten the canary and licked his fingers clean.
Are you fucking kidding me? Go find your own wife, I signed.
Drake signed back, I’m too young to get married. Still sowing my oats.
Which prompted me to immediately reply, Then go sow them in someone else’s wife, you little shit.
Drake laughed.
“What is he saying?” Sydney asked Drake while Drake’s attention remained on me. “Scott, what are you saying to him?” Drake’s focus swung back to Sydney. Lifting her hand to his lips, he placed a kiss on the back of her knuckles and Sydney beamed.
Watching her get played by the ranch’s resident manwhore-in-training got my blood up. Before I could break it up, Drake dropped her hand and walked away.
“How did you get here?” I barked, rounding on her. It came out way harsher than it should have, but I didn’t like surprises and finding Sydney out and having a grand old time was definitely an unpleasant one.
“It’s nice to see you too.” She smiled again. Mrs. Blackstone smiled with her whole face, not like the Botoxed beauties I was accustomed to. Her grin stretched from ear to ear, her teeth were even and white, and her eyes became crescent moons. I needed to see it again and often––directed at me obviously––and resolved to make her smile more.
“I asked you a question.”
Maybe that wasn’t the way to do it because her smile faltered. Then she erupted in laughter. That’s when it dawned on me. The smiles, the giggles. She was drunk.
Spotting Tony behind the bar, I signaled him over. “Did you serve my wife?”
Tony looked surprised. He should. I hadn’t advertised my new marital status.
“Uh, yeah, man,” Tony warily admitted, his deep-set brown eyes shifting between me and Syd.
“What exactly did you serve her?”
“Tony––” Sydney cut in. “Don’t listen to him. He’s not the boss of me. As a matter of fact…” She giggled some more. “…as a matter of fact, I’m the boss of him.” She aimed another bright grin at me. “Technically I am, Scott. Or I will be.”
Her laughter was infectious. It chipped away at my vow to keep her at bay and I found myself almost smiling back.
“Three Long Island Ice Teas,” answered Tony.
“They were yummy. Thanks, Tony.”
While Tony smiled at my wife, a meaty hand slid into the small space that separated her and me. “I’m Randy. Pleased to meetcha.” I glared at the outstretched hand. Then I glared at the man attached to the hand because…what the fuck, seriously? The hand retreated.
Sydney hooked a nonchalant thumb in the general direction of the guy seated on the barstool next to her. “This is Randy. He’s been divorced three time.” She held up three slender fingers in my face. Taking them gently in my hand, I lowered them, not letting go once they were out of my line of sight. Touching her felt good. Too good.
The humor melted off her face as her warm brown eyes held mine. Unguarded. Earnest. The vulnerability I saw there cut me wide open. Her lips pursed a little before she spoke.
“I don’t wanna be divorced, Scott…not even once.”
In one breathless suspended moment, I simultaneously wanted to give her anything she asked of me and take away everything she cared about. I didn’t think she was capable of being vulnerable and something about it called to me. Which made me mad. Because I hadn’t forgotten what this was about––a promotion. She was a world-class manipulator, and I was nobody’s mark.
“Are you here alone?” she asked in a quiet voice.
I shook my head and she tucked away all the emotion she’d let me see. She’d misinterpreted what I’d implied––that I had female company––and I did nothing to correct her. It was better this way. For both of us.
“Mrs. Blackstone,” Ryan intoned. I glanced over my shoulder to see Ryan wearing an indulgent grin meant for me. My mood took another downturn. “Always good to see you.”
