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“I thought you didn’t know squat about country singers,” Millie replied lightly, not really wanting to engage.
“I don’t. But I had to google him. See what the fuss is all about. George is ready to bust his gut, but I get it, he’s hot.”
Irritated, Millie raised her eyebrow at that. Jennifer was the one person she’d thought would have half a chance of escaping Cal’s orbital pull.
“I mean, I even downloaded some of his songs.”
You’ve got to be kidding me.
“He pulls his pants on one leg at a time, same as you.”
“I’m guessing most of the women here wouldn’t mind helping him in that regard.”
“I would,” she shot back, a little embarrassed at her reaction. “I mean, he’s not…”
“It’s okay, Mills. I know all about your history, and on that basis alone, I hate him. I will spit on his boots. In his food. In his beer if you want me to.”
“I don’t hate him,” Millie said softly. “Not anymore.”
“Okay, I don’t hate him.” Jennifer paused, and a look passed between the two women. It was obvious Jenn understood all too well the complications of an ex showing up in town. “I’ll still spit on his boot, though.”
“Skip the food though,” Millie replied with a laugh.
“I’ll think about it.” With that, Jennifer took her tray and disappeared into the crowd.
Millie grabbed three more jugs from the shelf behind the bar and, as she tapped the new keg and started filling them, kept her head down. Tabitha Bailey and her crew were in the house, and she was doing her best to ignore them. Most nights, it was easy—Millie had had a godly amount of practice—but tonight, she found it hard to do. The women were crowded around the table directly behind Millie, and Tabitha’s whiskey-soaked voice saturated the air. It was every man’s wet dream, but when Millie heard it, she had to fight the urge to smash her fist into that perfect, surgically refined nose.
The woman had been the bane of Millie’s existence since the day she’d arrived in Big Bend nearly two years earlier with her husband, an older man with little to no hair, a pot belly to shade his feet, and about as much personality as a pencil. A developer with an eye to building a fancy ski lodge in the mountains, he quickly realized that he would run out of money long before he saw any profit and had left Big Bend six months in, leaving behind a soon-to-be-divorced Tabitha, along with an undisclosed amount of his money. Word on the street was her prenup had guaranteed at least twenty-five million, and while most folks might have thought she’d stayed in Big Bend because of the scenery and the fancy condo she’d purchased with a million-dollar view to back up the price, Millie knew better.
Tabitha had taken one look at Benton Bridgestone, and, short of taking out a hit on any woman who turned his head, she’d all but claimed the man as her own. She resented Millie’s friendship with the Bridgestones and had made it clear just what she thought of Millie Sue, which wasn’t much. Millie knew Bent was smart, but he was a man, after all, and when sex was on the table, most of them had a hard time thinking with anything but what was between their legs. Last she’d heard from Mike Paul, Tabitha Bailey was having sleepovers at the ranch and had even had occasion to drop off Nora at school. She got that Benton was lonely, hell, she could relate…but Tabitha Bailey?
“Men are dumb,” she muttered as she handed over the last full jug to her cousin.
“I’m not dumb,” he replied.
“Do you want me to count the ways?”
Zach made a face and shook his head. “Just because Bridgestone’s got you all tied up like a badger in a hole, don’t be taking that crap out on me and the rest of my fellow men.”
“I don’t give a crap about Cal Bridgestone.”
Zach snorted. Millie ignored the urge to dump all three jugs over his head. She nodded toward the back of the place. “Take them to table seven.”
“I know,” he replied with a wink, his handsome face crinkled in a grin. “I put the order in.” His grin widened as he backed away, eyebrows raised to the heavens. “See? Not dumb.”
Millie couldn’t help but smile. She was being a witch and Zach an absolute angel. Not only was he not a server, but he’d been at the bar by seven this morning to look after paperwork and take delivery of their food and liquor order. By the looks of it, Zach probably wouldn’t make it home until midnight at the earliest.
“Oh my God, and Mona told me that he took his niece to ballet.”
Millie winced at the pitch of Jacklyn’s voice and snuck a look at Tabitha’s table. Everyone was waiting for Jacklyn to continue. It didn’t take a rocket scientist to know they were talking about Cal.
“Andhe stayed for the whole thing.” Jacklyn was practically dancing in her boots, her blonde curls bouncing around her face like golden springs. “Mona says he looks real good and he was so nice to everyone, even signing autographs and posing for pictures. Have you met him yet, Tabby?”
Jesus. Millie turned back to the bar and spied Taz Pullman. “Took you long enough,” she said lightly.
“I didn’t want to seem too eager.” He was taller than most, with shoulders a woman could hold on to and the kind of build that came naturally from working outdoors and such. His hair was the color of burnt tobacco, worn long so that the waves went just past his collar, and his features were like a puzzle where all the pieces shouldn’t fit, but somehow came together like magic. He was big, dangerously handsome with a quick wit and easy smile. A bull rider who’d won more titles and money than anyone before, he’d left the circuit at the height of his fame when his sister and her husband, a local rancher, had been killed in a car accident, leaving him to raise six-month-old twins on his own. He’d decided to stay in Big Bend and was joined by his mother who’d come from Texas and never left. She lived in town, had bought the old Nelson place, while he took over his sister’s ranch. Though some would call it more of a farm. They’d called Big Bend home for the last two years.
“Who’s got the kids?” Millie asked with a smile, leaning over the bar.
