33 - Sophie
33
Sophie
I hummed a song to myself while working the bar at Billy Bob’s. I didn’t even care that one of the customers—who was old enough to be my grandpa—had called me sugar-tits. Nothing could ruin my mood tonight.
“Are you happy one of your boyfriends won tonight’s event,” Liz asked me when our paths crossed behind the bar, “or are you happy Chris Appleton lost?”
“All of the above!” I replied. “But they’re not my boyfriends.”
“Excuse me,” Liz said with an overly-dramatic apology. “One of your rodeo fuckboys.”
I grinned at her. “That’s more like it.”
Liz’s eyes locked onto something across the room. “Speaking of…”
Johnny, Eli, and Sawyer were all smiles as they walked toward the bar. I turned away so they wouldn’t see my sudden grin, and asked Liz, “How do I look?”
“You look great.” She flipped open another button on my top, revealing a little more cleavage. “But now you look irresistible.”
“Excellent.” I turned back toward the bar just as the three cowboys arrived. “Why hello there.”
“Three whiskeys,” Eli said, holding up three fingers. “The most expensive you’ve got. Johnny’s buying.”
“How’d the rodeo go tonight?”
“Don’t act like you don’t know,” Eli said with a knowing smile. “I saw you in the crowd serving beer.”
“Are you sure it was me?” I asked, leaning forward on the bar. “There were a lot of beer girls working tonight.”
Eli’s eyes flicked down to my cleavage, then he dragged his gaze back up to my face. “I’d never confuse you with any of them. That’d be like mixing up a thoroughbred racehorse with a three-legged donkey.”
Next to me, Liz cleared her throat.
“Present company excluded,” Eli added, tipping his hat to her.
“Comparing Sophie to a horse?” Johnny raised his eyebrow. “That’s not the compliment you think it is.”
Eli’s eyes sparkled with humor as he stared at me. “I think she knows what I mean.”
“I do.” I turned to Johnny. “Let me get a better look at that bling.”
Johnny reached inside his flannel shirt and pulled out his medal. It was circular, made of gold, with an engraving of a cowboy wrestling a steer in the center.
“I was indeed there,” I admitted, “and I saw your performance. Consider me impressed.”
“It’s amazing what someone can do when they’re not nursing the world’s biggest hangover,” he replied.
I glanced at Sawyer on the left. “You looked sharp out there, too. Where’s your medal?”
“Unlike these two,” Sawyer said with a sneer, “I don’t need to broadcast my success.”
“That’s great for you,” Johnny said, patting him on the back. Then he turned to the two men on the other side of Sawyer and said, “Were y’all at the rodeo tonight? I got first place. No big deal.” He held out his medal for the men to admire.
“Preening like a goddamn peacock,” Sawyer muttered. “I expect it from Elijah, but not you.”
I laughed, and Sawyer’s bloodshot eyes cut over to me for a moment. Did he look satisfied at making me laugh? Surely not.
“Christina Applecock was mighty unhappy with the disqualification,” Eli told me. “I haven’t seen someone cry that much since my buddy Eric smashed his teeth on the playground in third grade.”
“He wasn’t the only one unhappy about it,” I muttered. “I was working the section next to Ted Salmon’s booth. As soon as the judges made their ruling, he made a phone call and left the arena.”
“Shit’s rigged,” one of the other patrons at the bar announced. “I’m telling you. They won’t let Appleton lose. He’s too popular.”
“Wouldn’t surprise me,” Eli agreed. Johnny nodded along, but said nothing.
I turned to Sawyer. “What do you think?”
Sawyer narrowed his eyes at me. “I don’t have an opinion on the subject.”
“That’s a boring answer,” Eli said.
“If it were rigged, then why’d they disqualify him?” Sawyer asked.
“Because it was too obvious not to,” Eli replied.
Sawyer shrugged.
I placed three glasses in front of them, then held up a bottle. “Yamazaki 18. Best whiskey we have in the building. But it’s eighty bucks a glass.”
Johnny’s eyes widened, but before he could say anything, Eli clapped him on the back. “After the prize purse he won tonight? He can afford it.”
“Japanese whiskey?” Sawyer asked with a twist of his mouth. “That’s better than anything local?”
“I promise you it is,” I replied.
I waited until Johnny nodded, then filled the three glasses.
Eli started to say, “Can I get—”
Johnny turned and interrupted him. “If you ask for ice in this very expensive whiskey, I’m gonna fight you.”
Eli closed his mouth, and pouted a little.
“No bar fights,” I loudly said. “Take that shit over to Mule Alley if you want to act like children.” Then I lowered my voice. “I know you’re not really going to get into a brawl. But we’re required to discourage fighting.”
Eli raised his glass first. “To the medals y’all earned tonight.”
“To Chris Appleton losing,” Johnny said.
“Fuck yeah, I’ll drink to that.” Sawyer knocked back the entire whiskey in one gulp.
“The most expensive liquor here, and he’s tossing it down like water,” Eli muttered.
“Not bad.” Sawyer put the glass down and tapped a calloused finger next to it. “I’ll take another. For sipping.”
“I’m not paying for the second one,” Johnny said.
“The fuck you aren’t,” Sawyer growled as I refilled the glass. He patted the sleeve of throwing knives hanging from his belt. “I’ll be over by the ax-throwing targets if you want to buy me a third.”
Eli watched him walk away, then shook his head. “The way he’s moping around, you’d think he came in last place.”
“I think he’s got his eyes on the Bull Riding event,” I said.
“It is his best event,” Johnny agreed while swirling the whiskey around in the glass. “And after getting third place tonight, he’s got a shot of winning the whole rodeo.”
“Especially since Applecrack didn’t get any points tonight,” Eli agreed. Then he shocked me by changing subjects. “You thought anymore about our offer?”
“What offer?” I said, then realized what he meant.
The threesome.
Johnny looked just as surprised by the topic, but Eli was grinning like he’d told a joke.
“I still can’t decide if you’re serious, or just fooling around,” I said while pouring a beer from the tap for another customer.
“Why wouldn’t we be serious?” Eli asked. He furrowed his brow. “We are extremely serious people.”
I snorted. “Now that’s a funny joke.”
“You’ve done a good job of avoiding the question,” Eli said smoothly. “Have you thought about it? I think you have.”
He was right. In fact, I had thought about very little except the idea of having a threesome with the two rugged cowboys. Wedged between their hot, hard bodies. Two sets of searching hands, two mouths planting wet kisses all over my body…
I gave myself a shake and said, “I think y’all are too competitive to share a woman.”
“Hell,” Eli replied, “we’re sharing you right now.”
“I mean at the same time,” I clarified. “I don’t think your egos could handle it.”
“Maybe,” Eli admitted. “Only one way to find out for sure.”
Johnny had remained quiet the whole time, watching me. Searching my face for something. I got the impression he was curious, like he had implied last night, but wanted to make sure I was interested before he committed.
It was, more or less, the exact same way I felt.
Somebody over by the entrance let out a cheer, and then two other women took it up. Eli and Johnny twisted on their stools.
“What’s the commotion?” I asked, standing up a little taller to try to see over all the heads.
Johnny turned back and hung his head. “God fucking damnit.”
“It’s him,” Eli muttered, taking a long sip of his expensive whiskey.
Before I could ask who, the crowd parted and I got a perfect view. He was a few inches taller than me, wearing a designer cowboy hat that was far too expensive to have ever seen real use on a ranch. A perfectly-curated smile was glued to his face as he walked through the crowd, shaking hands and taking selfies. I felt my heart race, but not in a good way.
Chris Appleton .
Liz leaned toward me. “Is that your…”
“Yes,” I groaned. “Unfortunately.”
“Go take a break,” Liz said. “I’ll cover until he’s gone.”
“I’m not afraid of him,” I insisted.
“Are you sure about that?”
“Why would you be afraid of that poor excuse for a cowboy?” Eli asked.
Johnny was looking at me intently. He could tell something was wrong.
“Well well well!” Appleton boomed when he reached us at the bar. “If it isn’t my least favorite competitors, all in one spot.”
“Surprised to see you here,” Johnny said. “Seems like you only show up for the cameras before slinking back to Ted Salmon’s penthouse.”
“Ted’s a friend. Why would I turn down his hospitality?” Appleton turned those eyes on me. “Besides, you offered to buy me a drink. I’m here to cash in that offer.”
“You said you wouldn’t share a drink with me if you were dying of thirst,” Johnny said, voice devoid of emotion.
“I say a lot of things.” Appleton was still smiling at me as he spoke. “Besides, I heard you two talking about Sophie. You spoke of her with a kind of familiarity . Almost like y’all are friends.” His eyes brightened with an intensity that was anything but friendly. “Or an item.”
“My love life is none of your business, asshole,” I bit off.
Appleton’s smile deepened, but there was an evil glimmer in his eyes. “Come on now, sweetheart. Is that any way to speak to your ex?”