Chapter 12
Christine
Two hours prior . . .
“Let’s go out,” I say as soon as Lauralee answers my call of anguish to take my mind off Tagger Grange. The most frustrating man I’ve ever met and the best kisser. Damn him.
I just don’t know what to think about our relationship, though calling it a “relationship” might be getting about ten yards ahead of us still. “Okay, where? To Whiskey’s?”
“I don’t love that place, but it’s familiar, and we get half-price beers, so that’s a win.”
She laughs. “That’s because they’re desperate to get women through the door. You’ll have the pick of the litter in that place.”
“We’ll have the pick of the litter, Miss Peach Festival. Are you in for nine?”
“See you then.”
I arrive five minutes early and wait beside her burnt-orange Mustang convertible. In Austin, you can find other cars this color in honor of the University of Texas, her alma mater. But out here, she’s one in a million, so everyone knows it’s her when they see this car coming.
She comes out with a small bag hanging from her elbow, her phone in hand, and keys in the other. “You’re rarely on time. Anxious much?”
“Actually, I am.”
The car beeps when she unlocks it. “Get in, hot stuff, and let’s get to partying.”
She peels out in a flurry of gravel crunching under her tires, and then turns up the music.
The top is up tonight, but we’ve had many good times cruising with it down and singing at the top of our lungs over the years in this car.
Just being with her lifts my spirits. “I’m not hooking up with anyone. ”
Glancing over at me, she asks, “You’ve already decided? Doesn’t matter if Chris Hemsworth walks into Whiskey’s, you’ll say no, sorry, I made my best friend a promise she hopes I don’t keep?”
How can I not laugh? “You’re ridiculous, you know that? Anyway, he’s married with a gaggle of kids. So no, I won’t be hooking up with Chris Hemsworth if he walks into Whiskey’s.”
“Ooh, what about Brad Pitt? He’s on the market.”
“How many kids does he have again?” I’m already talking myself out of him before counting. “Nah, he’s got that amazing face, but I’m looking to forget my troubles, not get into more with a celebrity.”
“I’d get into trouble with him.”
“You get first dibs then,” I say, wondering why we’re having to talk over the music. Turning the volume down, I add, “You’re free to do as you please. I’ll happily be your wingwoman.”
“You say that now, but I know you get lonely.” She smirks. “And horny. Not that I can blame you.” When her eyes return to the road, she asks, “What’s the latest with Tagger? He’s still in town, right?”
“He’s still here. He was back out at the ranch today filling in for Davey, but I only saw him from a distance.”
“On purpose or?”
Lauralee has known me too long and doesn’t let me get away with anything.
“Do you have to see right through me every time?” Grinning, I laugh enough to be heard, but I can’t say it goes deep.
It’s just all I can muster when thinking about Tag.
His rejection still stings. “I wanted to go out to forget about him, quite honestly.”
“We can do that right after you fill me in.”
Here’s the thing with my friend—she doesn’t push to get the gossip.
She keeps at it to make sure I’m okay. But getting into the weeds about what happened at the river doesn’t sound like a fun way to kick off a night on the town.
I angle toward her and rest my head back.
“I promise to share the details soon, but I don’t want to think about him at all tonight. Is that okay?”
She reaches over and rubs my arm. “Of course.” Pulling into the lot, she parks in the field next to the bar since there are no closer spots.
We do last-minute lip gloss touch-ups in the mirror before stepping out.
Hooking her arm in mine, I walk with her toward the front door.
She pulls it open but turns back to say, “And don’t worry, we are Tagger Grange–free tonight. ”
“I appreciate it.”
She’s holding the door for me, so I walk in but stop just inside to wait for her. “Beer?” I ask. “It’s on me.”
“Shiner, please.”
I turn around, but I can’t force my feet to move forward the moment my eyes lock on those greens set on me from the other side of the bar. Damn him . . .
Why is the universe so cruel to me?
I turn in a rush to push Lauralee back out the door, but she’s been working out and holds her own against my tackle. “What the hell, Chris?”
Stepping back, I realize I just made a minor scene he most definitely caught. “Can we go?”
“We just got he—oh!” Her gaze hangs over my shoulder as her jaw drops open. “Wow. Um . . .”
My heart thumps, my breathing comes in rapid-fire from my chest, and my thoughts scramble as I try to figure out how to handle this situation. I freeze, pretending nothing is out of the norm.
She whispers, “He’s behind you.”
“Walking or standing?”
“He can hear everything you’re saying, Pris,” he says. Crap. His voice doesn’t hold the humor that he usually carries around me, but more the same tone by the river.
I lock eyes on Lauralee as panic overtakes me. She wraps her hands around mine. “I think you should talk to him,” she whispers, “and put whatever has you so twisted behind you.”
“Sure, why don’t I do that, Benedict Arnold.” Through clenched lips, I mouth, “What happened to us . . .” I signal behind me with a nod. “Being Tagger Grange–free tonight? That sure flew out the window fast.”
“I can still hear you,” he says, his dulcet tone slinking under the chip on my shoulder and begging me to turn around.
I cross my arms in defiance. “Maybe you should stop eavesdropping then?” I say loud enough for him to hear.
“I’m sorry, Pris.”
Turning just slightly to the side, I steal a peek at him from my periphery. “For?”
“For hurting your feelings. It wasn’t my intention.”
Call me a sucker, but an apology gets me every time.
I don’t know why I find people who own their mistakes so heartening, but it’s something I value in a person.
So it would be hypocritical to hold Tagger to a different standard.
I turn all the way around with my arms still crossed and question him under a perfectly styled arched eyebrow.
I made the effort tonight before I knew I’d be running into him.
I see Benedict has left me unsupervised, which could be bad for Tagger. “What was your intention, then?”
“Not to hurt you.” He lifts his hat and holds it against his chest. “Not to rock the family dynamic. Your family means a lot to me. They feel like my own.” They, as in my brothers and my parents. Not me. He says, “I don’t want to piss off Baylor or your dad.”
“Maybe they don’t get a say in who I kiss in rivers or have sex in barns with or date at all. It’s not their decision to make for me. I’m not a kid anymore. It’s my decision. Mine alone.”
His brow furrows, and he narrows his eyes at mine as he puts the hat back on his head. Staring at me, he seems to have lost the words on his tongue.
I ask, “What?”
“Who are you having sex in barns with?”
I thought it was when he called me babe the first time, but it wasn’t. It was right now. Right here in Whiskey’s. The jealousy seeped into his tone against his permission, and although he shed that expression for indifference, I caught it clear as a bell.
Tagger Grange has a jealousy streak when it comes to me.
And this time, I’m no fool. That random comment about sex in a barn bothered him.
I grin like an idiot because this victory tastes better than being called babe ever could.
I straighten my shoulders and try not to strut, but yeah, it’s impossible.
I’m a freaking peacock with my feathers on full display as I walk past him.
With a poke to the chest, I say, “Wouldn’t you like to know? ”
He catches up next to me, and replies, “I would actually.”
“Why?” I work my way around the corner with barstools full of the regulars who are always here and toward Lauralee, who has beat me to the bar and is ordering.
“So I can kick their ass.”
Stopping abruptly, I face him with my jaw hanging and my mouth ready to catch some flies. “Really?”
A smirk lifts steadily on the right side of his stupidly handsome face, and he shakes his head. “No. My fighting days are over, but I’m not opposed to having a word or two with them.”
My gaze deviates from him to the long line of people sitting at the bar. “You’re in luck. There’s one now.”
“Where?”
“Right there. Joey Melvin.”
“What the fuck?” he mutters as he slowly turns to see him seated only a few stools away from us. A deep line cuts between his brows when he returns his eyes to mine. “Are you serious? You had sex with Joey?”
I playfully push him away and laugh. “God, no. That you believe I would is really disturbing. No way would I have sex with him.” The relief that washes over him changes the tension engulfing us since I walked in.
“He’s old,” I tease just to push a few more of Tag’s buttons, hoping one day he’ll be pushing mine .
. . God, so naughty. And now I can’t stop thinking about it.
“Old?” His voice clogs at the end. He clears his throat. “He’s my age.”
It was way too easy to rile him up. I laugh, grabbing his bicep. “I’m just kidding. I mean, not in the sense of he is your age because he is, but he’s not old.” I give him a wink. I feel someone like Tagger would appreciate that kind of detail to cap off this conversation.
“I need a beer. If I weren’t driving, I’d drink something heavier. You’re a handful.” His gaze dips to my mouth when I lick my lips. He looks up to the heavens like he’s asking for help before shaking his head. “Listen, Pris.”
Why is it so hot when he seems like he’s out of options and handling me like he probably shouldn’t—not as careful as if I’ll break like a dish?
“Yes?” I ask boldly, looking into his eyes as he searches for the words he wants to say.
A heavy sigh eases his chest, and his shoulders fall just enough to relax. “I don’t know what’s going on here—”
“What’s going on here?” Lauralee asks, shoving a bottle of beer in my direction.
I take the beer and a quick sip before I answer, “I don’t know. He was just getting to that part.”
“Oh, perfect timing, then,” she says with a laugh as we share a wicked exchange. Yep, she knows I got him riled up. Whether I can reel him in, though, is a whole other scenario. And more importantly, do I want to?
Should I really forgive him that quickly?
Make him pay a little longer?
Forget it ever happened, and we go on living our lives separately?
As much fun as it can be teasing him, I can tell by the regret in his eyes that this might not be the time to continue doing it. I touch Lauralee’s arm. “Do you mind giving us a few minutes?”
She reads me like a book, always has. Her smile softens, and she nods. “Sure. I’ll be over there at the bar talking to Joey.” She takes my beer for me, then scowls at Tagger. “Play nice now.”
I can see he’s close to an eye roll, but the corners of his mouth lift. “I always do.”
Now I’m about to roll my eyes, but like him, I can control when I want to.
As soon as we’re alone, relatively speaking since we’re standing in the middle of a crowded bar, he moves closer to me. “You know as well as I do, that something happening between us will only ruin the good thing we have going. So what do you suggest we do about this attraction between us?”
“Well damn, I didn’t expect you to come right out and admit you’re attracted to me.”
“That’s based on a mutual assumption that this attraction travels both ways.”
Shifting my weight, I plant a hand on my hip. “Considering I’m the one who kissed you, I think you already know where I stand.”
“I didn’t think I was physically hiding any feelings between us, especially since you were grinding yourself against me.”
“That’s so vulgar,” I say, “and so freaking hot.” Should I have admitted that? Probably not, and I can’t blame it on the alcohol since I haven’t had any, but why hold back now? Let’s just get it all out of our systems.
Staring at me like an equation he can’t solve, he asks, “Are you always this honest?”
I sigh, then glance around the place, noticing a few eyeballs on us.
We’re giving quite the show to gossip about later.
But if I ask him to go to the parking lot to finish this in private, the rumors will really fly around the county and probably get back to my dad or, worse, my brothers.
I shrug. “I don’t lie well, so it’s better for me to tell the truth. ”
“What am I going to do with you, Pris?” The quandary continues in his expression, contorting it in ways he doesn’t need to stress. I reach up and am just about to smooth the lines at his temple but stop myself, remembering we have an audience.
I tilt my head and smirk. “I have some ideas.”
“Okay. That has to stop, or I might take you up on the offer.”
Throwing my arms wide, I say, “Finally.”
“Damn.” He rubs the temple I wanted to. “Are you always like this? Were you like this in high school?”
I flip my hair over my shoulders and decide I’m ready to start drinking.
“No, I couldn’t live down that nickname you guys gave me.
No guy within fifty miles of Peachtree Pass would come near me, thanks to Baylor and Griffin.
” I walk just past him and look back over my shoulder. “Now I’m just making up for lost time.”
“Fucking hell, woman.”
Beelining to Lauralee, I can see her already shaking her head. By the time I reach her, she hands me the bottle of beer again. “What did you do to that poor man?”
With the opening of the bottle pressed to my lips, I glance back at him once more. I may be easy to read, but he most definitely is not.
From under the brim of that sexy black hat, his gaze pins me to the spot. And then he’s storming toward me like hellfire’s cut loose.
My friend slips the beer from my hands, and I vaguely hear, “Let me take that for you.”
And then my hand is grabbed and he’s whisking me toward the dance floor in the back. “If you wanted to dance, all you had to do was ask.”
“I’m starting to think you prefer if I don’t ask and make the decision myself.”
With a shrug, I confess, “I’m not opposed.”
Pressed together, we two-step like we’ve been partners our whole lives. He looks down at me as we dance, not missing a step, and grins. “You’re the kind of trouble I’ve tried to avoid, Pris Greene, but here you are like Eve, tempting me to take just one bite.”
“Imagine how good it will taste.”
Pulling me even closer, his cheek against mine, I hear him mumble though I can’t catch what he said other than I distinctly heard a fuck in there.
He twirls me out from his body, then pulls me back against his chest with a thud. His arm is around my back, and by the grip he has on me, there’s no escaping. Not like I would. Nope. Not when I finally have Tagger Grange right where I’ve always wanted.