Chapter Twenty-One
The second I step inside The Soused Cow, it’s like I hit a wall.
Country music thumps through the floorboards. The place is packed—shoulder to shoulder, bodies pressed close, laughter rising above the hum of conversations. Neon glows against dark wood. The familiar mix of beer, sweat, perfume, and smoke clings to the air.
I almost turn around.
Not because I don’t want to be here, but because I do.
Part of me still craves this. The life I lived in Vegas.
The nonstop thrill of cheap drinks and meaningless interactions.
Like I don’t belong in Wildhaven anymore—the ranch, or my parents’ house.
Home has been … complicated since I came back.
Not bad. Just full. Full of memories, expectations, ghosts that still call my name.
But Allen, one of Ironhorse’s employees, claps a hand on my shoulder from behind. “Come on, Ludlow. You promised two drinks. Don’t go soft on us now.”
I huff out a laugh and keep walking.
Ruby’s with my mom tonight. Momma practically snatched her out of my arms when I dropped her off after work.
Said she missed her this week while she was in day care, that a grandmother needs her one-on-one time with her granddaughter.
Ruby went willingly, chattering about her new friends and painting nails and “sleepovers at Nana’s,” so I didn’t fight it.
And I let a few of the ranch hands talk me into a night out, which is how I ended up here.
Allen points toward the pool tables. “I’m gonna grab us a table before someone else snags the last one. Get me a beer?”
“Yeah,” I say. “What do you want?”
“Whatever’s cold.”
He disappears into the crowd, already sizing up his competition.
Seth, another one of Ironhorse’s cowboys, falls into step beside me as I head for the bar. “You good?” he asks.
“Yeah,” I say automatically.
The bar is three deep, but the guy behind it catches my eye almost immediately.
“Holy shit,” I say, leaning forward. “Theo?”
Theo looks up, blinks once, and then his face breaks into a grin. “Well, I’ll be damned. Heard through the grapevine that the prodigal Ludlow son came home.”
I snort. “Not much of a secret.”
He sets two beers in front of the patrons to my right, then steps to me. We bump knuckles over the bar.
“Didn’t know you were running this place,” I say, nodding around us.
“Two years now,” he says. “Dad finally retired. Took some convincing, but he’s happier on the lake, yelling at the fish, than he is here, yelling at drunks every night.”
“Good for him.”
“What’s your poison tonight?” he asks.
“Three beers. Whatever you have on draft, but none of that light shit.”
He laughs. “Got it. First round’s on the house.”
I shake my head. “You don’t have to—”
“Already done,” he says. “Welcome back.”
I thank him as he sets the glasses in front of me. I grab the beers, and Seth and I weave our way back through the crowd toward the pool tables.
Allen’s already chalking a cue.
We set the beers down and claim a couple of stools and a pub table nearby. The guys fall into easy conversation—work, Darby’s orneriness, winter coming faster than anyone wants to admit.
I sip my beer and let my gaze wander.
That’s when I see her.
Shelby.
She’s on the dance floor, and it takes me a second to really register what I’m looking at—not because I don’t recognize her, but because my brain hasn’t quite caught up to the fact that she looks like that tonight.
Curve-clinging cream top. Brown skirt with fringe that swings when she moves. Boots that were made for dancing, not riding. Her hair is loose and flowing down her back.
She’s dancing with the farrier—the guy she introduced me to the other day. Dixon Fisher. Nice-enough guy. Solid handshake. Hell of a white smile.
He’s trying to keep up with her, bless his heart, but Shelby dances like she rides, like the music is part of her, thumping under her skin. She moves without thinking—hips rolling, shoulders loose, laughter bright as she spins away and back again.
Charli swoops in from the side, all wild energy and liquor-fueled confidence, and what looks like their younger sister—Harleigh—joins them. The three Storm women surround Dixon like a tornado of limbs and swinging hair.
They’re clearly a few drinks in. They stumble, recover, laugh harder.
Shelby looks carefree. Like she’s having the time of her life.
Something tightens in my chest, sharp and unexpected. The way she smiles at Fisher. Easy and without the cautious edge she always uses with me.
I don’t even realize I’m staring until Seth nudges me with his elbow.
“You know her?”
I tear my eyes away. “Yeah. She’s one of the Storm girls from Wildhaven Storm Ranch.”
“That the trainer you were talking about? The one who works with Ruby?”
“Yeah,” I say again, then take a long pull from my beer.
“Damn. No wonder you rush off on lesson days.”
Cabe appears at the bar a few minutes later. I clock him immediately. He spots me, too, and veers over.
“Well, look who it is,” he says. “How’d you manage a night out without Ruby?”
I grin. “Good to see you too, Cabe,” I say. “And she and her nana are having a girls’ night.”
“So are we,” he says as we shake hands.
I introduce him to Allen and Seth. Cabe nods politely.
“You’re part of a girls’ night out?” I ask, amused.
“Yep. Caison too,” he says. “And Bryce.”
I blink. “Caison?”
“Yeah.”
“And Matty?”
Cabe lifts a brow. “Yeah. Why?”
“Nothing,” I say. “Just didn’t think this would be Matty’s scene.”
He chuckles. “Soused Cow Matty and ranch manager Matty are two different animals. You should come say hello.”
I tell the guys I’ll be back and follow Cabe across the bar. We cut through the crowd to a table near the dance floor, where Bryce and Caison are sitting, both of them watching the girls dance with identical expressions—loving, amused, a little wary.
I take a seat beside Caison. “Didn’t expect to see you here.”
He chuckles. “Didn’t expect to be, honestly.”
I glance toward the dance floor. “Matty feeling better?”
He hesitates. “I guess so.”
Right on cue, Matty appears, stepping off the dance floor. She plops into the chair beside Caison, draping an arm across his chest.
“I think I’m ready to go home,” she declares. “And go to bed.”
Cabe snickers. “You two are already acting like an old married couple.”
Matty sticks her tongue out at him, and then her eyes land on me.
“What the hell are you doing here?” she asks.
I grin. “Good to see you too, Matty. Got your color back.”
She squints at me. “You’re irritating.”
“You look absolutely radiant tonight,” I say, undeterred.
Her eyes narrow further.
I lift my hands. “Just saying, you might as well stop fighting it. You’re gonna love me eventually.”
“Fat chance,” she says flatly.
The music breaks, and the sweaty dancers spill back toward the tables in an unsteady wave.
Shelby spots me immediately.
Her eyes flash with annoyance.
Fair enough.
I canceled Ruby’s lesson today, giving her another day to adjust to day care. It’s only been a few days since Shelby and I last saw each other, but the look she gives me says it’s been plenty of time for her to stew and build her walls back up.
And damn if she doesn’t look good.
I’ve always thought she was attractive. Even back when we were growing up. But this? This is different. The woman makes coveralls and work boots look sexy on a daily basis. Put her in something that hugs her curves and shows off those legs?
Yeah …
Shelby Storm is definitely not the girl I knew.
She’s all woman now.
“What did the cat drag in?” Charli asks, collapsing into Bryce’s lap.
“Looks like an old field rat to me,” Harleigh adds dryly.
I glance at Harleigh and grin. “Et tu, Brute?”
She flips me off without missing a beat.
I shake my head, amused. “Wow. Looks like all the Storm women have a problem with me.”
Shelby crosses her arms, chin lifted, eyes still sharp on mine.
It should bother me.
Instead, I find myself getting turned on.