Chapter 5
Shots & Propositions
I step into Blue Moon Tavern, the heavy door swinging shut behind me.
The place is dimly lit, filled with dark wood and worn leather.
A long bar stretches the length of the room and mismatched tables are scattered around, their surfaces nicked and worn from decades of brawls and spilled whiskey.
A fiddle-heavy country song blares from the jukebox, competing with the clink of glasses, loud laughter, and arguments that sound like one drink away from turning into a fist fight.
Just an average Saturday night at the only bar in town.
“Well, I’ll be damned. Our favorite deputy finally decided to grace us with his presence,” Ryker calls from behind the bar. “Want your usual?”
“Just one.” I take a seat, pulling off my hat and resting it on the counter beside me. “I have to drive back to the ranch later.”
“There was a time you’d stay until close and leave with a pretty woman on your arm and still manage to show up here the next evening ready for round two.” I wince, recalling a part of my past I’d rather forget.
Growing up, Heath was the reliable one, ready to take on whatever Pops sent his way, and Briar eagerly helped around the ranch, determined to do her part.
As for me, I focused on finding ways to avoid my responsibilities, which inevitably got me into trouble, earning me far more lectures than praise as a teenager.
I was reckless, forever chasing the next thrill and basking in every flirty glance from the beautiful women who crossed my path, never thinking about the consequences.
As I got older, I wanted more from life, and when Sheriff Matterson was searching for another volunteer deputy, I jumped at the opportunity. It was the chance I’d been waiting for to carve out a path for myself beyond the family business and prove that I could take on real responsibility.
What I hadn’t expected was to catch feelings for Birdie in the process.
Before I joined the sheriff’s office, she’d just been Briar’s friend.
But she brought her dad lunch every day and started running her unsanctioned animal rescues shortly after I started at the sheriff’s office, which regularly landed her in trouble.
We started having long conversations while she waited for her dad to slap her on the wrist, and over time, falling for her became inevitable.
Ryker slides a chilled Coors Banquet in front of me, and I lean back as I take a long swig.
“Thanks, man.”
He nods, watching me with an unreadable expression.
“What? You worried I’ll bail without paying or something?” I tease.
He shakes his head as he pours a local IPA into pint glasses. “Just curious, are you here on official business or as a favor to Briar?”
I run a hand through my hair, confused by his question. “Neither. I’d never drink on the job, and why would I be here for my sister?”
Briar occasionally drops by with her friends, but since she got together with Jensen, most of her weekends are spent at the cottage with him and Caleb. What started as a nanny gig last summer turned into her and Jensen falling in love, and the three of them becoming a family.
Ryker hands the pints to a nearby couple before coming back over to me.
“So Briar didn’t call you?” he asks hesitantly.
“No. I was in town and decided to come by for a beer. Now stop being so cryptic and tell me what’s going on.” I scan the room, looking for something that doesn’t belong.
At first glance, nothing seems out of place. There’s the typical crowd of regulars enjoying a night of drinking, a lively pool game taking place, and a pair of cowboys bickering over a poker game at a nearby table. It’s not until I glance at the other patrons at the bar that I spot the problem.
Birdie is here, sitting alone. There is no sign of Charlie or her other friends.
She’s perched on a stool at the short end of the bar, diagonally across from me, giving me a direct view.
She’s too absorbed in her drink to notice me, holding a cocktail with a pink umbrella, her lips puckering around the straw as she takes a sip.
I imagine what it would feel like to have that mouth on mine as I run my hands along the curves of her hips.
Goddammit. Stay focused, Walker.
“When did she get here?” I tilt my head in Birdie’s direction.
“Two hours ago.” Ryker responds. “She asked for a shot of tequila and told me to keep them coming.”
I count eight shot glasses in front of her, and slam down my beer, liquid sloshing over the rim. “What the hell? How many have you served her?”
“Take it easy,” Ryker says as he wipes up the mess I made.
“She hasn’t realized it, but she’s been doing shots of ginger ale since her fourth, and that cocktail she’s drinking?
” He motions to the red liquid in Birdie’s glass.
“Is cranberry juice with sparkling water. She doesn’t hold her liquor well, so I’d say a hangover is inevitable, but she’s still coherent enough to carry on a conversation without slurring. ”
I grunt my appreciation. As much as I dislike that she came here alone, I’m relieved Ryker’s watching out for her.
Unfortunately, my relief is short-lived when she scoots closer to the man sitting beside her. His name is Dalton Miller, and he’s one of the ranch hands Heath recently hired. I don’t know him well, but he’s about to earn a top spot on my shit list if he lets Birdie get any closer.
My nostrils flare when she giggles at something he says, leaning in to run a hand along his tattooed bicep.
“Come on, Birdie, do something awkward. Anything,” I mutter.
She’s normally a whirlwind of flustered energy around men she’s interested in, yet when there’s another instance I need her to fumble, she’s calm and collected. It seems a little liquid courage is all it takes to tame her nerves.
“You good?” Ryker questions as he mixes drinks for a group of women across the bar. “You look two seconds from decking someone, and I’d rather not deal with another brawl tonight.”
“I’m fine,” I grunt, taking a swig of beer.
My racing pulse says otherwise. With my shitty luck, I’m about to witness Birdie and Dalton share their first kiss, setting off a chain reaction that ends with wedding bells and a baby announcement.
“If you squeeze that bottle any tighter, it’s going to shatter, and it’ll be a pain in the ass to clean up.
” I blink at Ryker, his warning registering as I take a deep breath and loosen my grip.
“Sure you’re okay? I’m beginning to think you’re the one who needs a ride home, and you’ve barely touched your beer. ”
“Yeah. It’s just been a long day.”
And it’s only getting worse.
“I know exactly what you need.”
“What’s that?”
“To find a pretty lady to enjoy the evening with.” He smirks.
It’s been a while since I slept with someone—longer than I care to admit.
There was a time I would’ve agreed with Ryker without hesitation and shamelessly flirted with the first woman who caught my interest until she was begging me to take her home.
I never took them to my place, which made it easy to stick to my no-strings rule.
In hindsight, I’m not proud of how I used my charm to keep things casual and treated intimacy as a game, making a meaningful relationship impossible.
Now, years later, there’s nothing I wouldn’t give to be with a certain blonde, blue-eyed beauty who has me completely under her spell without even realizing it. If I were lucky enough to get a chance, it would end with her in my bed, where she belongs.
“I’m not interested in a casual hookup,” I confess to Ryker.
He lets out a low whistle. “Don’t tell me the infamous playboy is ready to settle down.”
I bristle, but thankfully I’m spared from replying when I glance over at Birdie just in time to see her knock over several empty shot glasses.
They topple behind the bar with a ringing crash, creating a scene similar to the one from just hours ago at the feed store.
As she spins around to see the mess she made, her elbow connects with Dalton square in the nose.
He recoils, fumbling for napkins to stop the trickle of blood running down his face.
“Oh, cheese and biscuits,” Birdie blurts loudly, her tone panicked. “I swear I’m not usually this clumsy.”
Dalton just narrows his eyes at her and applies more pressure on his nose.
Birdie’s next words are too soft to hear, but I watch her reach for another napkin to offer him.
In her rush, though, she bumps his glass of whiskey hard enough that it tips over, sending amber liquid into his shirtsleeve.
He’s lucky there wasn’t much left in the glass, or it would have spilled onto his pants and the floor.
“Why don’t you stop moving before you make an even bigger mess?” Dalton snaps. He’s pulled a few people’s attention with his tone, and even Ryker pauses at the register and glances over.
The whole scene rubs me the wrong way. It was clearly an accident, and he damn well knows it.
Birdie’s shoulders slump as she sinks into her seat, worrying her bottom lip to keep the tears at bay.
“I’d better go to the bathroom to handle this.” Dalton sighs and gestures to his nose, then pulls out a couple of bills from his wallet with his free hand, dropping them to the counter. “I’m going to head out once the bleeding stops, so I’ll see you around.”
“Okay… I really am sorry,” Birdie calls after him.
Turns out I was wrong. Tipsy Birdie is far more accident-prone than I expected.
Now I feel like a jackass for hoping she’d stumble, though I can’t deny I’m glad it happened—just wish she didn’t have to pay the price in the process.
I can only imagine how difficult it must be for her to be rejected yet again.
Ryker takes in the mess and rushes over with a towel, wiping down the counter where Birdie spilled the whiskey.
“I apologize for the mess,” she says, lowering her head in shame. She’s no longer speaking so softly, and I can’t help the grin threatening to make an appearance.