Jace catches me staring and raises an eyebrow, but the man’s gotenough sense to keep his mouth shut. Unlike his brothers, he actually knows when to mind his own business, and right now, my business involves trying not to walk over there and show every swinging dick here exactly who gets to take the pretty bartender home tonight.
“You’ve got younger brothers, Christian. How the hell did you keep from strangling them in their sleep?” Jace asks, breaking me away from watching Piper pour shots for a group of ranch hands who are definitely lingering longer than they need to.
“They were good kids. Never caused too much trouble.”
Teddy snorts, practically choking on his beer. “Good kids, my ass. Remember when Colt ran your daddy’s truck straight into Miller’s Creek that one summer? It took four of us to get that piece of shit out of the mud.”
I can’t help but laugh at the memory of Colton calling me in a panic, absolutely convinced our dad was gonna rain fire on his ass. I took the blame without thinking twice, hauled that banged-up truck straight to Teddy’s dad’s garage, and spun some bullshit story about swerving to miss a deer, hoping our old man would never notice the fresh dents and scratched-up paint.
“Me and Callan got into all kinds of shit that I’m pretty sure nobody knows about.”
“You wanna share?” I ask, but Dillon just takes a long pull from his beer, grinning even wider.
“Not a chance. Your brother would string me up by my balls if I started spilling secrets now.”
“I need to take a leak. Mind up, young’un,” Teddy grumbles, nudging Dillon as he slides out of the booth, leaving him to drop down next to me.
“How’s Piper doing? I heard Travis isn’t in the picture anymore,” Dillon asks, and I turn to face him, not exactly eager to gossip but not looking to come off like an asshole either.
“Yeah, she’s alright.”
“Nice of you to look after her, all things considered…” His eyes drift to where she’s dealing with three Walkers at the bar, their cowboy charm turned up to eleven. “I only met her a few times before Violet and I ended things. I got to know her better since she started working here, but both of them have been through a rough time.”
“Is Violet managing okay without her?”
“I think so, but then that stubborn-ass woman wouldn’t ask for help if she was on fire.” There’s affection in his voice, the kind that speaks to history and feelings that don’t just disappear because a relationship ends.
I find myself wonderingwhy the hell they aren’t together, and I must be looking at him too long because he offers the answer before I even have to ask.
“We wanted different things out of life. We still care about each other, but...” He shrugs, taking another drink. “It’s complicated as hell, but I’d drop everything if she needed me. That’s just how it is.”
“Good for you,” I offer, but the commotion at the bar catches my attention.
The Walker boys are getting rowdy, all three of them grinning like devils and holding their hats in their hands. Piper’s smirking, looking between them like she’s playing some twisted game of eeny, meeny, miny, moe.
Oh, hell no.
“Back in a minute,” I mutter, sliding from the booth.
Each step toward the bar feels almost predatory as I try to catch their conversation.
“Guys, I’m not picking. You say the chosen one buys the next round, but we all know what wearing a cowboy’s hat really means.” She meets my eyes as I lean against the bar, one boot propped on the rail beneath. “Although, I’m feeling a little reckless tonight.”
“Pick mine,” one of the triplets says, getting elbowed by his brother. I can’t tell them apart, but they’re all too pretty for their own good.
“Come on, Piper. You know I’ll show you a good time.” Another one grins, leaning over the bar like he’s already got her out of her panties.
She hums like she’s actually considering it, and all I see is red.
She meets my eyes again, and I shake my head, a silent warning.She better not fucking dare.
“Is everything alright, Christian? Can I get you a drink?” Her voice is sweet as sugar, but those green eyes are daring me to snap.
“When you’re done screwing around, we need to have a conversation about boundaries,” I say, loud enough for half the bar to hear, because maybe then the Walkers will take a fucking hint and back off.
“Oh shit, sorry, sweetheart. We didn’t think you were with Travis anymore.”
Fucking small towns—can’t sneeze without six people offering tissues.
