27 - Sophie
27
Sophie
We remained tangled together on the couch, skin against skin, for a while. Eventually, Johnny broke the silence by chuckling.
“What’s so funny?” I asked.
“I was just thinking that I don’t care about losing the bull riding competition last night,” he purred, kissing my cheek. “Eli can have a date, as long as I keep getting to do this .”
He gave my ass a possessive squeeze to emphasize the point.
“Mmm, how magnanimous of you,” I said, twisting so I could rest my head against his chest. “Are you sure you won’t be jealous if I go out with Eli, though?”
Johnny shrugged. “Who am I to tell you what to do?”
“You get an A for that answer,” I replied. “But it’d be all right to be jealous, too.”
“Jealousy is for insecure men. If you match me up against that unserious cowboy, I’ll trust my sexual proficiency nine times out of ten.”
“What about that tenth time?” I teased.
Johnny grinned down at me and stroked my arm. “Hell, everyone has a bad day sometimes.”
“Today wasn’t one of them,” I said with a giggle.
His chest vibrated with silent laughter. “No, ma’am. It was not. What came over you, texting me like that? Not that I’m complainin’, mind you.”
“Well, it’s a complicated story,” I explained. “I was extremely horny.”
“Ah, complicated indeed.”
“Glad you answered the text.” I planted a gentle kiss onto his bare chest. “But all joking aside, I’m a woman of my word. I’m going to go on a date with Eli.”
“All right.”
“Is it all right?” I pressed. “I know you said you aren’t jealous, but I don’t want me going out with him to affect anything that we’re doing, or might do in the future.”
He raised an eyebrow. “So this is something you want to keep doing?”
I twisted to look up at him. “Sure. As long as it’s still fun.”
“Oh, it’s still fun,” he said with a smirk. “I just wasn’t sure where we stood. I kind of wondered if that night in my trailer was a one-time thing.”
“Well, it’s a two-time thing, now,” I said.
“Indeed it is.” He cupped my chin and tilted my lips up to his, kissing me with enough passion to awaken the warmth between my legs once more.
But then he said, “As much as I’d love to lay here on the couch for the foreseeable future, I ought to get back.”
“Still practicing for the Steer Wrestling competition?” I asked.
Johnny slid out from under me and began collecting his clothes. “Yes ma’am.”
I grabbed a couch pillow and squeezed it to my chest, both to replace the warmth from his body and to cover myself. “I heard Eli say it’s your best event.”
“I’m inclined to agree with him. Never hurts to kick the rust off before the competition, though.” He buttoned his jeans up and leaned down to kiss me. “I appreciate the intermission, though.”
“Trust me: I appreciated it even more,” I said.
He smirked. “I highly doubt that.”
I spent the afternoon driving for Uber, then went to the rodeo that evening. I didn’t know any of the cowboys participating in the rodeo tonight, which made it surprisingly boring. It was far more fun when I had individuals to root for—or, in Chris Appleton’s case, root against .
I arrived at Billy Bob’s ten minutes early because I wanted to talk to Jessica, my manager, about the shift assignments that night. Fortunately, she allowed me to switch to one of the rooms with a music stage. Once I was there, I clocked-in behind the bar and then had a quick chat with the guy who coordinated the lights and sound for the stage.
“No problem,” he said after hearing my request. “I’ll make it happen. Just give me the signal when you’re ready.”
I served drinks for an hour while impatiently waiting for my cowboys to arrive. Doubt started creeping in—maybe they weren’t coming tonight. Not only would that ruin my plan, but it would mean I wasted a favor on Jessica for nothing.
Fortunately, Eli and Johnny did eventually come strolling into the room. I noticed them immediately from across the bar, but I kept my eyes low like I hadn’t been glancing in that direction every ten seconds.
“There’s our favorite bartender,” Eli said as they crowded up to the bar. “What are we drinkin’ tonight, darlin’?”
“You’re supposed to tell me ,” I pointed out.
“I’ll enjoy it better if you choose,” he replied.
Johnny grinned. “I agree. You’re good when you take charge.”
I smiled back at him knowingly. “You make a good point. Let me see what I can whip up.”
Eli glanced at Johnny, then back at me, clearly noticing that there was some subtext to our conversation.
I made them whiskey sours, mostly because another customer had ordered the drink and it was easier to make three than just one. They accepted the drinks, gave a toast, then looked around the bar.
“Who’s playin’ tonight?” Johnny asked, nodding to the stage where a Billy Bob’s employee was plugging in equipment.
“Some no-name guy,” I said, keeping my eyes on him instead of Eli. “Probably not any good. We’ll see.”
“If you want to kick him out and let me stretch my pipes, you just let me know,” Eli said with a smirk.
“I’ll remember you said that,” I replied casually.
“Don’t encourage him,” Johnny interrupted. “He’s already got an ego wider than a longhorn. If you give him a crowd of cheering rodeo fans, he might explode.”
Eli glared at him. “And here I thought you were becomin’ more friend than enemy on the frenemy spectrum.”
“That’s what you get for thinkin’,” Johnny answered.
“I don’t know,” I teased. “You two arrived at the same time. That’s friendship behavior. Especially if you drove together.” I stared at them pointedly.
Johnny looked away and said, “Our trailers are parked next to each other. It just made sense for us to share a ride.”
“Of course it did,” I said in a patronizing tone, turning away to help another customer. That happened to be in the same direction as the stage, where the employee I had talked to earlier was still setting things up. I waited until he was looking in my direction, then flashed him a quick thumbs-up.
He nodded once. Game on.
For a little while, it was a normal night. Customers flirted with me. Eli made jokes about where he was going to take me on our date, grinning at Johnny every few seconds to twist the knife. Johnny was true to his word though—he only shrugged, and showed no real sign of jealousy.
Finally, at ten o’clock on the nose, the background music dimmed and a voice came over the loudspeakers. “Now playing on the stage…”
“This ought to be good,” Eli muttered, twisting in that direction.
You have no idea , I thought.
“When he’s not strumming his acoustic guitar,” the loudspeaker boomed, “he’s gripping the pommel of a horse. That’s right: your musical guest tonight is one of the performers in the Fort Worth Rodeo. Please give a big Billy Bob’s welcome to Eli Hawkshaw!”