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“Do you think someone called the cops on us?” LeAnn asked, her hand still firmly in his.
“Let’s not take that chance,” Bobby said.
“Agreed.” After shaking Bobby’s hand one last time, Dylan asked LeAnn, “Is your truck here?”
“No. Reba dropped me off.”
“Then we’re hoofing it back to the rodeo grounds. Are you up for some dinner? I was hoping for Oklahoma’s best okra, but we got kicked out of the joint.”
*
LeAnn was in mid-chew of the best damned burger she had eaten in a while when Dolly started blowing up her phone.
“I’d better get this,” she said after swallowing and wiping away the greasy goodness on her fingers with her napkin. “Don’t eat all the onion rings.”
Dylan’s mouth was too full to reply.
“What’s up?” she said.
“How could you do this to me?” Dolly wailed. Her sister sounded in tears.
“What? What’s wrong?”
“Sierra Boots told us to fuck off because of that stunt you and Dylan pulled.”
“What stunt? Dolly, you’re not making sense.”
“Check out the rodeo’s forums and Mick’s social media.”
“Oh no, what did he do?”
Dylan frowned and peered over as she brought up Mick’s accounts.
“This is a lie,” LeAnn said.
Mick was posting pictures of his swollen face and bloody nose. “Dylan Porter sucker-punched me over LeAnn Keller.”
“Dolly, it’s bullshit. Dylan never laid a hand on him.”
“Is that right? Check the pictures on the forums.”
Switching over to the WPRC forum, she saw a picture of herself standing between Mick and Dylan. It looked like she was holding Dylan back. And of course, that miserable bitch Debbi Peterson was talking shit about her all over the boards, saying that LeAnn had been egging the men on to fight over her. She also was collaborating Mick’s story.
“I swear, this isn’t what it looks like. We’re being framed.”
“You’re in a bar, LeAnn. In the middle of a bar fight.”
“It was a restaurant. I didn’t have a drink. Mick was the aggressor.”
“Who roughed him up?”
“Bobby Montana, Johnny’s brother. Mick was talking shit. It wasn’t Dylan.”
Dolly sighed. “I believe you. Unfortunately, no one else does. So you can kiss this sponsor goodbye.”
“Dolly, I’m so sorry,” she said. It was happening again. Only this time, she hadn’t mooned anyone. She hadn’t done anything wrong, but no one would believe it. Not with her past. And Sierra Boots—and their fifty thousand dollars—was off the table.
“Me too.”
