30. Lettie
Lettie
A fter dinner, Beckham invited us all to the bar for old times’ sake. I agreed to go as long as Brandy could tag along. I didn’t want to be stuck around a whole bunch of guys by myself, brothers or not.
I rode with Callan and Bailey. Reed, Lennon, and Beckham took a separate vehicle. Since we’d stopped on the way there to pick up Brandy, the three of them got to Outlaw’s Watering Hole before us. Callan pulled into a parking spot and killed the engine, all four of us getting out.
I stared up at the orange neon sign out front of the wood building.
Not a thing had changed about the outside in the last five years.
Nostalgia hit me in the chest, and I realized just how much I missed this small town.
Bell Buckle ran in my blood. That ranch and the rescue were my entire life. I was a fool to leave.
“Coming?” Bailey asked.
I snapped out of my thoughts to catch him watching me. “Yeah.”
Callan held the door open and I followed in after Brandy, Bailey’s body so close behind me I could feel the warmth radiating off him. We found Reed, Lennon, and Beck at a high top table near the pool tables with seven beers sitting atop it.
“Went ahead and ordered you guys some Coors Banquets,” Reed said.
Brandy grabbed one off the table, taking a long pull. She set the glass on the table with a clang and grabbed a pool cue, arranging the balls into the rack.
“A simple thank you would be nice,” Reed muttered.
I grabbed a beer, the glass cold in my hand as I walked over to Brandy.
“You want to do teams?” I asked.
“Sure. I’ll take Callan, you take Bailey?”
“Why do I get Bailey?”
She shrugged, busying herself with lining up the rack to hide the smile on her face.
“Just thought you might want to be with him, is all.”
I didn’t miss the innuendo in her comment. I took the five steps back to the table and set my beer down. “Callan, Bailey, you guys care to play?”
Bailey smiled down at me. “With you? Always.”
I was half convinced he didn’t just mean the game. I rolled my eyes and turned back around, the two of them following. I didn’t miss the hard look in Reed’s eyes from where he sat at the table across from Beckham.
They grabbed their cues off the wall. “Ladies first,” Brandy said as she bent over to hit the cue ball.
It hit the balls with a crack, sending them scattering. None went in, so I chose my shot. After the cue ball bounced off the side wall, missing every single one on the table, Bailey frowned at me.
“Am I on the wrong team? What happened to your game, Huckleberry?”
“I’ve still got it.”
“You sure about that?” he asked as Callan took his shot. He got stripes, and took aim for another ball. After missing, Bailey was up. “I’ll show you how a pro does it.”
“Oh, don’t flatter yourself,” Brandy said from across the table.
He bent at the waist to take the shot, shooting two solids in the corner hole. He turned to me, holding his hands palms up, elbows bent, with a smirk on his face.
Show off.
Maybe I should play worse so he’d have to show me. Bend me over the table, my ass rubbing right where I knew we both wanted it.
No, I should definitely stop .
“Well, looks like you and Cal have it under control.” I grabbed Brandy’s hand, tugging her with me towards the dance floor where “Me and My Kind” by Cody Johnson played over the speakers.
“I need something stronger than beer,” I said to her. I needed something other than Bailey to make my head spin. He was making me fucking crazy.
“I know exactly what you need.” She winked before dragging me over to the bar.
Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Bailey leaning on his cue, watching me as Callan bent over the table. Could I have been any more obvious running away from him like that?
Good ol’ Lettie. Always resorting to running.
Fuck me.
“Four shots of tequila, please,” Brandy shouted over the music to the bartender. He was middle-aged, cute, a little shorter than Bailey. I shook my head, as if that could clear my thoughts. Now I was comparing men to Bailey?
“Four?” I asked her.
“You’ve got two hands, don’t you?”
The bartender lined four shot glasses up in front of us, pouring them to the rim with Patrón. Once he was done, he set the bottle back on the shelf. “There you are, ladies.”
Brandy offered him a sweet smile, assumingly forgetting how much of a lightweight she was. I grabbed for the tequila, downing both shots one after the other. The alcohol warmed my chest as I grabbed the lime he’d set on the napkin in front of me.
“Better?” Brandy asked before she tipped her head back to finish her second shot.
I nodded. “Much.”
She leaned on the bar, knowing it pressed her breasts together, giving the bartender a clear view of her cleavage peeking out of her burnt orange romper.
The outfit was cute on her, with bell sleeves and a flowy bottom. It landed mid-thigh, showing off her long legs, but the v-cut top left little to the imagination. Brandy was all confidence and sass, and I loved that about her.
I’d opted for a denim blue sundress, pairing it with my “going out” cowgirl boots. I knew Bailey loved my outfit because when I’d changed into it after dinner, he couldn’t keep his eyes off of me. Much like the way he couldn’t keep his eyes off me right now.
With the buzz of the tequila working its way through my blood, I pulled on Brandy’s arm, leading us to the dance floor just as “This One’s for the Girls” by Martina McBride started playing. We screamed the lyrics to each other as we danced.
God, I missed this. The familiarity of being in this bar with my best friend, Bailey, and my brothers. As much as I hated them looking out for me, I knew they’d never let anything happen to me. I could let loose and not worry. Not with the six of them standing by.
It felt weird being able to legally drink here now. The bar hadn’t changed one bit in five years, but other things did. Things that couldn’t be seen with the naked eye, like my feelings for Bailey and my love for Bell Buckle.
I’d thought starting over was the answer, but I’d quickly come to find that everything I could ever need was right in front of me the entire time.