Chapter 4 #3
I hold my hand up, trying to stop her rambling interruption, seeing as I’m with a customer.
But there’s no stopping Emily. She can’t see Cowboy from where she’s standing and would honestly probably forget her broody asshole if she did catch sight of him.
She thinks she met a bad boy to turn into her golden prince, but Cowboy’s another creature entirely.
He doesn’t wear broody like a personality trait.
For him, it’s just fuck off o’clock twenty-four seven.
Except when he’s about to kiss me, then it’s just fuck-me time.
Emily’s heart is fickle and flighty, but she gives it all, wide open every time.
And there’s nothing she likes better than turning a bad boy good.
She’s got a line of guys in her wake, each of whom would swear they’re better off for having loved her, even though they lost her.
She counts her exes as friends and has even gone to some of their weddings when they’ve moved on from their post-Emily heartache.
There’s a tiny stitch somewhere in my chest as I think about Cowboy seeing Emily, though, how he’d look from her to me and choose her.
It’s happened more times than I can count.
Not her fault. She’s just the easier edition of our particular model.
I’m like the beta test version, with glitches and bugs and no manual.
“He was so hot, and we had a connection, you know? He might’ve acted like he was immune to my charms, but I like a challenge.”
I can’t help but smile at her determination. And as long as she’s focused on her mystery guy, she won’t be up in my business, which is a good thing.
“What about the woman he left with?” I ask carefully.
“The more I think about it, I think they really were siblings or friends or something. He didn’t light up when he looked over and saw her, you know that goofy-cute smile guys do when they see their girl?
And they weren’t holding hands and didn’t kiss hello.
Maybe I jumped to conclusions a little bit?
” She holds her finger and thumb up an inch apart, looking sheepish.
“Maybe.” I agree because that does sound reasonable, though I’m still not sure. Emily is a bit too trusting sometimes, so it’s possible that’s wishful thinking on her part?
“Mark my words, Rix. We’re going to the resort bar again. I’m going to find my broody asshole and make those dark eyes really see me next time. I think I’ll wear my red dress, the strapless man-killer one. What do you think?”
A horrible thought occurs to me. An ugly, awful one that I want to deny, but it’s sitting right in front of me.
“Dark eyes?” I glance to my side, where Cowboy is watching my side of the exchange with an amused smirk on his face. I realize he can’t see Emily over the truck and is happily eavesdropping.
“Yep, so dark they’re almost black. Like hot little charcoal briquets.”
“At the resort bar a few nights ago?” Brody’s brows climb up his forehead. He’s sensing something . . . and I wonder if I’m the first in on a big joke. “Beard or clean-shaven?”
“Neither, it was like somewhere in the middle. One of those five o’clock shadow scruffs you want to feel on your thighs.”
Brody’s lips quirk, and Reed and Manuel stop working at that, Emily’s words painting a picture no one can ignore. But she’s long since stopped editing herself for Reed and Manuel. They’re basically family, and she spends too much time with my foul mouth as a verbal role model.
“He didn’t happen to have on a hat, did he?” I ask slowly, not wanting to hear the answer as we dance closer to the danger line.
“Yes! Oh, God, Rix . . . you’re so smart! Maybe I can track down the logo, like it’s where he works or something. What was on it?” She closes her eyes and rubs at her temples.
I swear to God if she says he was wearing a black hat with a camouflage silhouette of a cow, I’m going to die. Maybe of laughter, maybe of something more sinister.
“A cow! A camo cow . . . that’s it.”
Brody’s eyes go so wide I can see the whites all the way around. He even pulls the hat off his head, double-checking it himself. He curls the brim, something it looks like he does often, and shoves it back on his head. I can’t help but smile at the confused look on his face.
Emily stomps her heeled foot. “Don’t laugh at me. I’m gonna find him, claim him, spread my legs, and invite him into my life, if you know what I mean.” She teases out the last bit seductively.
Reed raises his hand like we’re in elementary school again. “I know what you mean, Emily.”
I sigh heavily, knowing what I have to do. I’ll step aside for her anytime. It’s what you do . . . for family.
A painful knot in my belly whispers that he probably thinks I’m her, anyway. If they met at the resort and flirted, when he saw me here today and almost kissed me . . . he would’ve naturally assumed I was Emily. Flirty and fun and sexy . . . Emily.
That burns hot and sour through my blood, and I’m glad we didn’t kiss. Or at least I tell myself I am.
“Hey, Cowboy. Sounds like my sister’s a sure thing if you’re interested.” I try to sound chill and light. I fail to my ears, but no one else seems to notice.
Emily’s nose crinkles in confusion. “What?”
Brody stands up, pulling that hat down low over his eyes.
“Oh, my God! It’s you!” Happy excitement sweeps her face, but then horror dawns and Emily whirls on me. “Rix! You let me say all that embarrassing stuff!”
“I tried to stop you. A little.” I hold my greasy finger and thumb up an inch apart, the same way she did earlier.
Cowboy is looking left and right, right and left, as the realization sinks in.
“Sisters . . . twins . . . identical twins. Fuck, that explains so much! At least now I know I’m not crazy.
” The words are muttered under his breath, and when he looks at me, I swear there’s something deep in the darkness of those eyes.
Hurt, maybe? Betrayal? It’s gone too fast for me to get a read on it, but I’ve seen it before.
When some guy is chasing Emily and thinks I’m her.
The drop in their smiles when they realize I’m the wrong sister still hurts every time.
This time, it’s a bit sharper, though. It shouldn’t be.
I just met Cowboy. Hell, I don’t even know his name, but that flash in his eyes as he looked between us hurt all the same.
This is why hearts are stupid. This is why I focus on work. I blink slowly, letting the reality of the situation sink in and forcing my heart to steady. I promise my pussy another round with George tonight, but she whines that it’s not the same and that she wants the real thing. Me too, honey.
But family first. Always.
“Emily, this is Cowboy. Cowboy, this is Emily. I’ll leave you to it, I guess.
” Even telling her my too-obvious nickname for him seems like revealing too much, and I need to get out of here.
I can’t watch him fawn all over her. Usually, I get a kick out of seeing her charm melt the coldest hearts. But this time, I can’t watch.
I force myself to walk to the breakroom, though my feet want to run, even giving Emily a small encouraging smile as I pass her.
Poor guy probably won’t know what hit him once Emily starts actually flirting.
When she gets her mind stuck on something, she’s fierce as a firecracker, and I just stand back and ooh and ahh.
Fuck, they’re going to have pretty babies, I think out of nowhere.
I look at my sister, the mirror image of myself, and Cowboy, the sexy, brooding literal definition of tall, dark, and handsome.
But he’s not that pretty boy kind of handsome.
He’s got an edge to him. One I hope Emily can handle.
Cowboy’s not her usual bad boy, that’s for sure, and I hope she hasn’t bitten off more than she can chew.
My teeth grit together, wishing they could be the ones biting him. But nope, that’s not how this plays out. Never has been, never will be. No matter how much I want it to be.
Fuck it. I’ve got work to do. I grab a candy bar out of the vending machine, gobbling it in too few bites that I don’t even taste but hoping it’ll get me through the little bit of time left until I can close for the day.
My couch and a beer sound like a damn good plan right now.
I could use some company, but only one face comes to mind.
One that’s out there smiling at my sister’s sweet jokes, falling under the spell of her flirty compliments, and probably dropping to his knees to worship her body, so like mine but also not.
I scrub at my cheek, cursing the smudge of grease I know he didn’t fully wipe off.
Fuck.