He scoffs, shaking his head. “Soft bitch.”
I turn back to the stove, exhaling slowly. He comes up behind me, breathing down over my shoulder. I stir the chili, trying to ignore him.
“Smells good,” he finally says before disappearing into the bedroom.
My lungs decompress after the door slams shut.
1
DALLAS
ONE YEAR LATER
After I toss back another shot of vodka, my stomach starts to revolt.
I’m not twenty-one anymore. My tomboy friend Jo doesn’t make a face after finishing her shot and wiping her mouth with the back of her hand.
“I need to pee,” she says.
I nod, understanding she wants me to accompany her to the restroom. I hop off the stool and follow her through the dimly lit, packed bar.
She works here, but she got off her shift thirty minutes ago and immediately stole a bottle of vodka to share with me.
We’re celebrating.
My divorce was finalized earlier today. The twins are with their dad, and I’m kid-free and single for the weekend.
As soon as I told Jo I had divorce court today, she startedpouring me shots and hasn’t stopped since. We make our way into the women’s restroom to find a couple of girls in line ahead of us.
One of them is Madi Wright, a girl I’ve heard of but never met. Dolly, one of my other friends, told me she was always pretty and popular in high school. She used to hook up with Dolly’s older brother, Holden Redford. He’s now married to one of my good friends, Rosie. So, by default, I have no desire to be friends with Madi.
She’s chatting with another girl about the live band onstage and how she had a fling with the lead singer over the summer, but now it’s totally over.
I do my business and wash my hands before walking out into the hallway to wait for Jo. I’m looking down at my phone when I bump right into someone’s hard chest.
“Sorry, I—” I glance up, my eyes landing on a man’s pearl-snap denim shirt.
The top three buttons are undone, revealing the smooth, chiseled chest underneath. My eyes continue traveling all the way up his large frame until I meet his cerulean blue eyes. He has a sly smirk on his lips, his Stetson tilted on his head.
“Darlin’, please don’t apologize for touching meeveragain.”
Duke Justin Redford licks his lips, taking me in like he’s on death row and I’m his last meal. I inhale a sharp breath, taking a measured step back from him until I’m pressed up against the wall, my muscles tense. He smells so damn good, like leather and mint and thigh-shaking decisions.
“What are you doing here?” he asks.
I shake my head. “Nothing. Just hanging out with a friend.”
Jo is the only person I’ve told that I finally went through with the divorce, besides my mom. Even Rosie doesn’t know. Last time we talked about my marriage, I told her I was going to give it one more try with Matt. That was two months ago. After being off and on so many times, I was embarrassed to keep telling her about it, especially with the divorce still pending with the court.
But now it’s really over—for good this time. I’ll never let him touch me again. The papers are signed and sealed by the judge, and my wedding ring is at the back of my underwear drawer.
I still feel numb about it.
“Special occasion?” he asks.
I don’t answer. Jo walks out of the restroom, her eyes shifting from mine to Duke’s.
“Hey, Jo,” he says.
