Chapter 21 Dirty Promises
Dirty Promises
Wes
What the fuck was she doing talking to her asshole of an ex-husband?
My hand strangles the neck of the bottle of beer I’m holding, wishing it was his neck. I see him step closer to her, and I’m out of my seat before Allie and Tripp know what’s happening.
Luckily for Landon, Tripp grips my shoulder and pulls me back before I can get my hands on him. “What the hell are you doing, Wes?”
My gaze swings to Tripp, and I want to throttle him for keeping me from making sure Sawyer's alright. Every inch of me is itching for a fight. I want to put Sawyer's ex on the ground for even thinking he has the right to talk to her now. “I’m just making sure he’s not bothering Sawyer.” I mean for my tone to be offhanded so he’ll let me go, but it comes out as a growl and Tripp’s fingers dig into my shoulder, making me hiss out a breath.
“You remember he owns half the town, right?”
The Prescotts have been here just as long as the Dawsons, but unlike ranching, their hold on the only bank in town has spared them all the ups and downs. With their steady wealth and control over local finances, they’ve been afforded quite a bit of influence in Cottonwood Creek.
“Like I give a fuck,” I seethe. But I’m held in place when Sawyer’s eyes find me over Landon’s shoulder. She takes me in with wide eyes for just a moment before she smirks and gives me a subtle shake of her head.
My heart is pounding, and I’m dying to see him bleed, but I know what that look means. It means she can take care of herself. And damnit, I love that about her. Still, the adrenaline thrums through my veins refuses to settle, even though I can see she's handling herself just fine.
I shift from one foot to another and my pulse thunders in my ears, a restless energy burning through me like a wildfire. I'm seconds from tearing out of Tripp's solid grip when Sawyer marches over, grabs my T-shirt and drags me toward the crowded dance floor.
“What the hell are you doing?” I ask, shouting in her ear to be heard over the music.
She looks gorgeous tonight with her hair down and curled and a navy dress that makes her eyes look as bottomless as the deepest parts of the ocean.
It has lace along the hem at the bottom and flares out when she spins.
I want nothing more in this moment than to put my Stetson on her head and claim her right here and now for everyone to see.
“Making sure you don’t get kicked out of the only decent bar in a thirty-mile radius.” I give a derisive snort and she laughs at me. “Come on, cowboy. Show me all your best moves,” she says, gesturing to the dance floor.
I don’t miss the fact she didn’t use her usual nickname for me, and something about the sultry way she said the word cowboy has my pulse spiking.
I lean down and press my lips close to her ear. “This cowboy reserves all his best moves for behind closed doors, but I can show you those later if you want, Red.”
Her cheeks go the prettiest shade of red, like she’s been out in the sun a little too long and it’s kissed her cheeks just enough to tinge her skin. She stares at my mouth like she can’t believe what she heard and her tongue darts out to wet her lips, but she doesn’t say a word.
I’ve struck her speechless which is a feat in and of itself, but if I stand here another second with those wide eyes on me and her mouth parted in a shocked expression, I’m going to do something I might regret later—even more than the suggestive remark I just made—so I grab her wrist and pull her onto the dance floor instead of pressing my lips to hers the way I'm dying to.
My hand slides over her lower back, and I hum along to the music, giving her a minute to recover as we dance together.
She’s gone quiet on me, but she doesn’t avoid my gaze as we dance.
Her eyes settle on mine, a fire burning behind them, waiting to incinerate me.
The tension between us is palpable, but I can’t stand the silence.
It only makes me want to slam my mouth to hers to find out exactly what she tastes like, what sounds she'd make when she's wrapped up in me.
“You thinking about all the moves I promised to show you later?” I ask, dying to know what’s going through her head.
“And inflate that overly large ego of yours?” she scoffs. “I don’t think so.”
“I think you’re lying,” I murmur, my voice turning to gravel as her skin brushes against mine. The contact is brief, but it sends a jolt of heat scorching through me like a trail of flame burning through the treeline, a wildfire spreading unchecked.
She tilts her head, and her lips curve into a knowing smile. “I’ll never tell.”
Her eyes light up brighter than the city lights I’ve always been so fond of. She puts the beauty of the city to shame, and just like that, I'm helpless to resist. As the song shifts to something slow, a familiar southern twang playing through the speakers, I pull her closer, unable to help myself.
She tenses for a moment at the intimate press of our bodies, her spine stiff against my hold, but as the chorus rolls in, she relaxes and melts into me. I tighten my grip, my hand splaying against the small of her back, savoring the way she fit against me as we sway in time with the music.
“You called me cowboy,” I note, wanting her to keep talking.
She wrinkles her nose, her fingers toying absently with the fabric of my shirt.
“Don’t get too excited. You were just looking very cowboy-esque in your Stetson with your arms crossed, all broody and homicidal while staring down my ex.
" Her gaze flickers over my face before she reaches up and scrapes her thumb across my short beard.
"Plus the new whiskers." She gives me a devious grin. "The title can always be rescinded.”
“Is that so?” I ask, giving her waist a teasing pinch.
She hums in confirmation, eyes dancing with mischief. “Mm-hmm. Don’t trim the beard.”
Was she flirting with me?
Something in my chest clenches at the thought, and I don’t bother fighting the grin that tugs at my lips. "Alright," I reply easily, already deciding I won’t be shaving it anytime soon. I let a breath of a laugh escape me at how she’s wrapped me around her finger without even trying.
Her fingers play with the hair at the nape of my neck that needs a trim, sending a slow burn down my spine.
Her eyes hold mine, her sultry stare suffocating me with an intensity that makes me hot under the collar.
She leans in and her lips ghost over my ear as she whispers, “And don’t stop making me dirty promises. ”
I’m struck breathless by the untamed look in her eyes. It’s just a hint at the wildness I know is in there, and I’m dying to find out exactly how wild this woman can be.
“There’s plenty more where that came from, Red.” My hand spreads wide over her lower back and for a little while longer we stay like this, dancing in our own little bubble, while the rest of the bar fades into the background.
A new song starts playing and Sawyer's expression shifts—her frown aimed at something over my shoulder. Curious, I follow her gaze.
Allie is deep in conversation with some guy who looks vaguely familiar. Connor? Carter? Something with a C, I think. He’s younger than me and Tripp, so we never ran in the same circles during my summers here, but I’ve seen him around. I’m pretty sure he and Allie dated in high school.
“What’s wrong?” I ask.
Sawyer’s gaze snaps back to mine. “Oh, it’s nothing," she says, but there's an edge to her voice. "Just Allie getting caught up in her shitty ex again.”
“Hey, Wes.” Tripp grips my shoulder. “I need a favor.” He gives a subtle nod toward Allie and… Chip? “Will you go ask Allie to dance? She doesn’t listen to sense, and I’m tired of watching Chase eye her up and down all night when I know he’s got another girl on standby in his phone.”
Chase! That’s it!
I grunt as I watch them from across the dance floor. Allie looks at him like he’s hung the moon, and he whispers something in her ear that has her smiling and her cheeks turning pink. The song ends, and a jauntier tune plays.
I eye Sawyer and she waves me off. “I’ll be fine. I’m going to go grab a water.”
I nod, scratching at the scruff of my beard before I stalk over toward Allie. I clear my throat, and Allie looks up at me with bright eyes and a sweet smile. “Hey, Wes.”
“Come dance with me,” I say. It’s a command, not a question, so she takes my extended hand with a confused tilt to her brow.
Chase scowls at me, but I don’t pay him any mind as I pull a laughing Allie out on the dance floor.
We two-step our way around the floor. My hand dwarfing hers. She barely clears 5’1, so I tower over her.
“You and Sawyer are cute together,” she shouts over the music.
I fix her with a flat stare. “We aren't together.”
“Yet,” she adds with a little smirk.
I’m about to agree when a loud shout cuts through the music, followed by the harsh scrape of chairs dragging across the floor.
A woman shrieks, and the unmistakable sounds of a good old-fashioned Herds brawl erupt.
I immediately scan the crowd for Sawyer and find her leaning against the bar, watching the chaos unfold with a look of pure resignation, like she’s seen this a hundred times before.
“Oh my God, what the hell is he doing?” Allie gasps, grabbing my arm and tugging me toward the commotion.
As the crowd shifts, people scrambling to get out of the way, the scene becomes clear.
At the center of it all, Tripp and Chase are going at it.
Tripp is scrappy, and he gets a few good shots in, but Chase has a good one hundred pounds on him and brute strength is a hell of an advantage in a fight like this.
There’s no way this will end well for Tripp if someone doesn’t put a stop to it soon.
“That idiot. Wes, do something before Tripp gets himself hurt,” Allie begs.
I mutter a curse under my breath and march into the mayhem to save Tripp from being worse off than the bloody nose that’s already dripping onto his shirt. I place myself between the two of them, a stupid place to be.
“Tripp. Knock it the fuck off.” He ducks around me and nails Chase again.
“Hey buddy, back off,” I shout at Chase. “Fight’s over.” I’m welcomed with a fist to the gut and the air whooshes out of my lungs.
Luckily, one of his friends jumps in when he sees me bent over and grabs hold of him so I can get my hands around Tripp. “Let’s go, man,” I wheeze. “He’s not worth getting a lifetime ban from Herds.”
I haul Tripp towards the exit with little difficulty. He knows the fight’s over. I’m half-convinced he only started it because he knew I’d be there to bail him out tonight. I shake my head and shrug at Sawyer’s wide-eyed stare as we head for the door.
“You’re a dead man,” I threaten Tripp, thinking about how I could have spent my night with Sawyer, but instead I’m stuck cleaning up his mess.
“I heard him talkin’ shit about Allie. If you heard what he was saying, you would have thrown the punch, too.”
I sigh. I probably would have, but still...
I shove him out the door, gravel crunching under my boots. “Get in the damn truck. Ruined a perfectly good night.”
He swipes the blood from his nose and smiles at me. “Just like old times, eh?”
I roll my eyes. “Except we aren’t kids getting in fights out in a damn field somewhere. Get it together. You’re an adult. He could press charges.”
“He’d be a pussy if he did. Maybe he’ll learn not to talk shit about Allie.”
My gaze slides to Tripp in the passenger seat. “You landed a few good hits before he got one in.”
“Damn right. He might be bigger than me, but I actually know how to throw a punch.”
“You’re gonna need all those moves if it happens again, ‘cause I’ll be the one handing you your ass next time.”
He snorts out a laugh and then groans in pain before pulling off his already-ruined shirt and staunching the flow of blood from his nose. “I’m glad you’re here, Wes.”
I smile despite myself. “Me too, bud. Me too.”