Jenny spins her, the shorter redhead somehow managing to swoop Candice under her arm. Candice dissolves into laughter, and continues to spin, her hair flying around her in a circle. I pull my hat down lower, trying to block her out. But it’s no use—she’s impossible to ignore.
“What’s got you looking so pissed off?” Beau asks from across the table.
“Women,” I mutter.
Beau scoffs. “What? Did Kerry call you or something?”
“No,” I say. “After the breakup I blocked her anyways.”
Kerry knows damn well I never want to hear from her again, though I still don’t think she understands why. She thinks thatwe’re the same. I don’t know. These days, it’s hard not to think that she’s right.
“Good,” Beau says. “There are plenty of ladies in Star Mountain who’d be happy to go out with you, and who are better than her.”
I have to smile at the way my old-fashioned friend says “ladies” and the fact that he left his cowboy hat in the car. Even though it’s dance night at the Horseshoe and everyone else has theirs on, Beau is too honorable to ever wear a hat inside.
“Sure, maybe,” I say. I swallow a mouthful of beer and try not to think about the only woman in here who has caught my eye. Candice might drive me fucking insane, but I’m not able to deny how stunning she is any longer. Being an idiot player is who I am, after all.
I spy Candice and Jenny moving from the dance floor to the bar. Candice’s hips are wrapped in tight blue denim, and her shirt shows off her collarbone as well as her stomach. I grip my beer tightly and try not to think about what it might be like to undo the buttons at the top of her shirt. Just a few more and…I stop my train of thought right there. The two women clink shot glasses together and tip their heads back at the same time. Candice chokes a bit on hers and Jenny slams her on the back with her hand.
“Looks like the girls are having a good time,” I say, nodding in their direction.
Beau glances over at them and then says, “Good. Candice never gets out of the house and these last two years haven’t been easy on her. Because of my vet work, I can’t be the one managing the barn. She was already doing so much before Gramps and Grammy died and now…” Beau trails off, looking somber.
“It’s a lot of work,” I say, suddenly feeling like a dickhead for all the times I’ve fought with Candice. She doesn’t need the stress of having me around.
“She takes too much on,” Beau says. “But even if she didn’t, the barn just needs a lot of work to keep it going. The fact that we managed to convince Tomás and Jenny to stay on permanently has helped a lot, though.”
Tomás came to the bar with us as well, but he’s been spinning various women out on the dance floor since we arrived.
“Excuse me,” a woman says from over at the next table. “But are you Nate Booth?”
A trickle of anxiety runs through me at being recognized. Normally I wouldn’t care, but my reputation is in tatters these days.
“Sure am,” I say, forcing myself to turn and give her a smile. I even take my hat off.
“What are you even doing here?” the woman asks.
“I’m working at my buddy’s barn,” I say, jerking my head towards Beau, who merely grunts in response.
“At the rescue?” the woman says. “But why?”
Damn it. I should have remembered that everyone here knows everyone else, and whoever this woman is, she seems to know the Wilson siblings and the horse rescue they run.
“I’m, um, doing some volunteer work in between competing,” I say, shooting her another of my trademark smiles, and making sure it includes every single one of my pearly whites.
But unlike normal, it doesn’t land. She just gives me a sad look and says, “Sure.” Then, she turns back to her friends, and they start talking in hushed voices. Presumably about me.
I glance at Beau and see that he’s trying not to wince, and failing miserably.
“They know,” I say, shaking my head. “It’s fine. Honestly, it’s not hard to figure out that I’m here for community service.”
“There’s nothing shameful about having to do community service,” Beau says. “And we’ve all gotten into bar fights. Hell,the month after Gramps died, I probably threatened everyone in this damn place at least once.”
“Thanks, man. I appreciate it.”
“Do you want to talk about it?”
“Not really,” I say. “Have you seen the fight online?”
