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But… he couldn’t say she hadn’t proven herself. Other than that hilarious misstep with not tying up the heifer while pulling the calf, her work had been impeccable. And it wasn’t like other interns committed anything more to him than a single summer.
So why was he holding her to some higher standard?
Because you slept with her.
He winced, then stood up and started pacing behind the couch, his hand going to the back of his neck.
Shit. Was he really that asshole?
Goddammit, he wished he had someone he could talk to about all this. He’d always been a fuck-up when it came to women. His phone was sitting on the shelf beside the entryway and he stalked over to it. Then, before he could think better of it, he punched in the number he hadn’t dialed in months.
It rang.
And rang.
And rang.
Then a long beep sounded.
Hunter sank against the bookshelf, his eyes closing and his head tilting back.
“This is Janine. I’m not around right now. Leave a message and I’ll try to get back to you.” Slight pause. “I’m shit at checking my messages though, so if you don’t hear from me within a couple days, just call back again. Catch you on the flip side.”
Hunter pulled the phone away from his ear and hit end call.
Then he looked around his empty house. Jesus, he couldn’t stand another Friday night alone here, drinking beer and watching a fucking game. He turned and grabbed his keys and boots, stuffing his feet into them as he was already half out the door.
The parking lot at Bubba’s was packed like always on Friday night. Bubba’s was the only watering hole for twenty miles and Bubba was happy to make a buck off people’s desperation for entertainment and alcohol, not always in that order.
Hunter pulled open the door and would swear the raucous noise that spilled out was a few decibels louder than normal.
The bar had a lot of floor space and people had pushed back tables to clear out an area for a dance floor. They only did that on Fridays and Saturdays. It was being put to good use and when Hunter looked closer, he saw why. Looked like the boys from Mel and Xavier’s had come out for the night. A couple of those boys were genuine hell raisers and the town couldn’t have loved them more for it.
Well, apart from the sheriff, Marie—but even she couldn’t do much more than watch on since they’d never done anything outright illegal. Though the bar top striptease down to his boxers Liam had performed a couple months ago might have straddled the line of public indecency. It was certainly an image Hunter didn’t think he’d scrape from his memory any time soon.
Tonight Hunter actually welcomed their shenanigans. Distraction was the name of the game, after all.
Until he saw the object he was trying to distract himself from right in the middle of the crowd, dancing with the manwhore in chief himself—Liam O’Neill. And not just dancing. For Christ’s sake. Talk about public indecency.
Isobel’s back was to Liam’s front and one of his hands was tucked right below her breast. With the other, he lifted hers high overhead, then he skimmed down her body as they shimmied down, dropping low to the floor. Her black little nothing scrap of a dress rode even higher up her legs when she crouched down low like that. Liam grasped her waist in both hands and they shimmied back up to standing.
The song ended and Isobel jumped up and down, laughing and clapping. She threw her arms sloppily around Liam’s neck and Hunter wanted to deck the bastard. Just how much had she had to drink?
None of your damn business. She’s nothing more than an employee.
So why couldn’t he look away from her? She never smiled like that around him. And he hadn’t seen her with her hair down since the first night he’d met her, when she’d pulled it out of her ponytail for the shower. Her eyes were bright too, probably because of the alcohol.
That bastard Liam better not be trying to take advantage of her. They’d had a hard case with the colicky horse and maybe she was upset—
Nope. He turned away from the dance floor. None of his goddamned business. He pushed past people standing around the dance floor to get to the bar.
There was one open stool and he made a beeline for it.
He’d just grab a quick drink, then head back home. It was stupid to come out tonight anyway. What, was he some whiny little bitch who couldn’t stand a little silence? So his house was quiet. Boo hoo. So he’d made his wife so miserable she’d left him in the middle of the night. It happened. Who didn’t have problems?
Bubba came over to where Hunter was sitting. “What’ll you have tonight?”
“Whiskey.”
