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Looking pleased at Wyatt’s compliment, Fallon grins. “Trying to romance me with sweet talk, Wyatt? This soon?” The corner of her mouth lifts. “Keep to the skills you excel at.”
Wyatt manages a dry laugh, but I notice the clench of his jaw.
Though Fallon and Wyatt are in separate divisions on the rodeo circuit, for years, they’ve had an idiotic competitive rivalry for who can take top prize every year. Most days, they’re at each other’s throat, but Wyatt needs to get his head checked if he thinks he’s fooling anyone with hisI can’t stand heract.
Ford grins, finger-gunning Fallon a salute. Having known her for ten years now, she’s the little sister we love to annoy. “Ballbuster’s back in town.”
“Got in today, along with Wyatt.” She holds up her middle finger wrapped in white gauze. “Only broke a finger.”
“Best finger to break,” I add.
“Next time, I’ll give that horse a carrot so you break your neck,” Wyatt says, crossing his arms and slinking down in his seat.
“Still got four more lives, baby,” Fallon quips.
Ford arches a brow. “What happened to the first five?”
“Mind your goddamn business.”
“Ask one simple question and cowgirl gets pissy,” Ford mutters.
Fallon sidles around the table like she’s taking inventory on which one of us to stab with a fork, and then she settles at my side. I can feel Wyatt’s gaze blazing a trail to her. “Daddy wants to talk to you tomorrow, Charlie.”
I blow out a breath through my nostrils, wishing I could be anywhere but here. The day keeps getting better and better.
Fallon chuckles and rests a tattooed hand on my shoulder. Her sleeve of bright tattoos could light up the bar. “Relax. It’s not about that video. Although ...” She narrows her eyes and swivels her gaze. “Ford, you could deal with learning some manners.”
Ford grunts and makes a jerk-off gesture.
“Where’s Stede at tomorrow?” I ask. “Corner Store or hospital?”
A cloud enters Fallon’s hazel eyes. “Hospital.” She lifts her hand and wiggles her fingers the best she can and takes off toward the jukebox. “See ya, assholes.”
“Christ.” Wyatt shudders, his stare on Fallon as she joins a circle of girls pounding on the jukebox. I snort at the hangdog look in his eyes. “She’s like the female reincarnation of George Jones.”
“What do you think Stede wants?” Ford lifts a hand to signal for more shots.
I grunt. “Not sure. Find out tomorrow.”
“Want me to go with you?” Davis asks.
“Nah,” I say, not wanting him to worry. My brothers have done enough. “I got it.”
My job. My ranch. I handle it.
“So, who is Charlie goin’ for tonight?” Wyatt’s jovial drawl pulls me away from my thoughts.
I look up from my beer to see my brother wiggling his brows as he scans the sea of women.
“No one,” I grunt, swerving a wry eye around the bar. It’s all local girls you couldn’t pay me to touch. Too much drama, too much work.
Even though it’s been too damn long since I’ve been laid. Two years at least.
These days, after long hours spent working on the ranch, all I have the energy for is a hand job and a cold shower.
For a long time, losing Maggie was like chronic pain. Over the years, it’s become a numb feeling I’ve accepted. A routine. I’ve never thought about moving on, not because I can’t, because I don’t want to.
My heart’s never been in it since Maggie died. My dick, sure, but love? I’m not looking.
