9. Bishop
bishop
. . .
“What crawled up your ass last night?” Lincoln asked, tossing the grocery bag in the back seat of his truck.
“What do you mean?” I asked, following suit.
The two of us had gotten up at the ass crack of dawn to head into town.
Doug and Ruby had given us a mile-long list of things to pick up before the party began.
We were almost done, thank God. I didn’t have the patience to grocery shop, even on the best day, so I usually ordered them and picked them up.
Saved me a shit ton of money, too, since I’m not going in on an empty stomach and buying everything in sight.
“With Lennox last night. I don’t know, man. It seemed kind of tense.”
“Things are always tense with her,” I growled. “What the fuck’s the difference?”
He rested his forearms on top of the truck bed. “That,” he said, pointing at me. “You’re all snippy and angry?—”
“I’m always snippy and angry,” I interrupted.
“No arguing there,” he muttered. “But y’all were at each other’s throats all night.”
“You’re imagining shit. ”
“Am I?” He raised a brow. “Because at one point, she literally kicked you off the couch. You spent the rest of the night sitting on the floor while she glared daggers at the back of your head and then laughed as you limped outta the house.”
Alright, well, he had a point there, but it wasn’t my fault.
Lennox kept digging her feet into my thigh, fidgeting and fussing about not being able to stretch out.
Every time she did it, I’d knock them away.
It wasn’t until the last half of the movie, after both her parents had fallen asleep, that she was able to throw me off the couch.
If we’d been anywhere else, I would’ve ripped her from her seat and bent that infuriatingly hot little ass over my knee, and turned her ass red. It was the wrong thought because I shouldn’t— I couldn’t —think of Lennox that way. Not anymore.
Not ever again.
Still, it remained there all the same, keeping me up nearly all fucking night. I wanted to act on it so badly, to pull myself free and see if she’d wrap her pretty little lips around my length agai?—
“Dude, what the fuck?” Lincoln asked, bringing me back to the present. He was waving his hand in front of my face, smiling like a jackass. “Wanna talk about it?”
“Can you get your nose out of my business and help me get this shit done?” I knocked his hand away and finished piling the groceries into his truck in silence. There was nothing to talk about. Not as far as I was concerned.
And it needed to stay that way because I struggled enough with keeping my mind off Lennox as it was. Last thing I needed was Lincoln making shit worse.
By the time we pulled up to the ranch, Lincoln’s truck was loaded down with so much random shit. He stopped by the barn, where a large group of hands stood talking.
I pointed their way. “Y’all doing anything?”
“No, sir. We just finished feeding,” Keith said, stepping up beside me. He was one of the best workers we had—he kept his head down, didn’t start any shit, and was loyal to boot. There were times he’d gotten offers to work at other ranches in the area, but he stayed with Black Springs instead.
“Great,” I said, filling my hands with bags and handing them to him. “Take this to Mrs. Hayes and Cook to see where they want it to go.”
Keith laughed. “Already on it. Cook’s been bitching about the lack of pickles for the past thirty minutes. This’ll make him happy.”
“Thank God,” I muttered. Cook was a great guy, and he did a damn good job at what he did, but he was a bit dramatic when it came to his food. I’d watched him throw things at the hands when they tried combining shit he didn’t think belonged together.
Once, he’d run over and ripped a ketchup bottle out of someone’s hand because they tried putting it on their steak. Though, I didn’t try to stop him on that one. What kind of person does that?
The other workers brought wheelbarrows to carry the bags to the big open field where Cook was set up. He began hollering when it came his way, smiling like someone had just told him he’d won the lottery.
“You’ve saved the day, boys,” he boomed, clapping Lincoln and me on our shoulders and squeezing. “I can’t thank you enough.”
“You can thank us by not breaking our bones,” Lincoln said, disentangling himself. “You can’t expect us to rope shit if we have dislocated shoulders. ”
“Yeah, he needs all the help he can get,” I said, pointing toward Lincoln. “He thinks he can beat me at the tie-down competition.”
Cook glanced at Lincoln, raising a prominent, bushy brow. “Really?”
“Hey! I’m a damn good roper,” Lincoln protested.
“I’m sure you are, but…” Cook trailed off, turning back to his prep station. “You haven’t seen Junior here, have ya?”
“Of course, I have. We work together every day.”
“Day-to-day shit is different than competin’. I mean, hell… Anyone can cook a meal, but when push comes to shove, they can’t do what I can,” he said with a smug smile. “I’ve watched Junior here since he came to the ranch, and I can tell you right now that you’re gonna lose every dollar you put up.”
“I will not,” Lincoln said, puffing out his chest.
“Nothing to be ashamed of, son. He’s just better.” Cook turned around, sifting through the bags until he found his giant ass jars of pickles. “Good luck, though!”
Lincoln watched with an open mouth as Cook stormed away, barking to someone chopping onions to drop everything to take care of the jar instead.
“Who knew he loved pickles so much?” I asked, covering my mouth to hide my laughter.
“Fuck off,” Lincoln said, straightening his shoulders. “I’m gonna win.”
“Whatcha gonna win, baby?” Josie asked, coming up behind Lincoln. She wrapped her hands around his waist as he wrapped his arm around her.
“Bishop and I are going head-to-head for the tie-down roping later, and no one thinks I can beat him.” He looked down at her. “But you do, right?”
Josie smiled, not skipping a beat. “Of course you can,” she said, raising up on her toes to kiss his cheek. “You can do anything you set your mind to.” When he looked my way, clearly thinking he was hot shit with Josie backing him, she widened her eyes and shook her head.
She knew damn well he couldn’t beat me.
“Yeah, that’s right, I can. Wait…” Lincoln paused, gripping her chin when she tried to pull away, laughing. “Are you doing that thing where you just tell me what I want to hear?”
Josie placed her hand on his chest. “Yes, but it sounded more convincing this time, didn’t it?”
She squealed as he bent forward, throwing her over his shoulder and smacking her ass. “I’ll see you out there soon,” he said, looking my way. “I just gotta take care of something real quick.”
“If it’s quick, you’re not doing it right!” I called back, earning his middle finger before they disappeared into the barn. “Lovesick fools.”
I looked around, noting how different the ranch looked today. It was all done up for the party, long white tents with clusters of tables beneath them for people to hang out and eat and shoot the shit. Cook had made almost everything you could ever want, but his barbeque had everyone lining up.
Bar tents were marked with a red top, making them easy to find in a massive crowd. That was great, seeing as I couldn’t fucking stomach being around so many people without a bit of liquid courage.
Doug even built a big stage in the middle of it all, ready for a band to play. In the meantime, several speakers were placed throughout the tents and up by the barn, where most of the events were being held.
When Doug’s training clinics took off, he’d built a massive, covered arena, so there weren’t any excuses not to get out and ride. It’d come in handy over the years, especially when he decided to throw a party on a whim. And when Lennox started barrel racing, she’d spent almost every day out there.
I returned to the barn, noting the red tent outside the arena entrance and heading straight for it. Sure, it might not even be noon, but I was off the clock and intended to make the most of it.
“Lemme get a beer,” I said, pointing to the one I wanted. I waited, tapping my fingers along the bar top, stopping only when I heard a familiar voice to my left.
Fucking Lennox.
“Let me get another,” I said, grabbing and drinking the first beer.
She was in her element, standing in the middle of a group of workers, laughing at something one of them said.
They all looked like doe-eyed idiots staring at her like she was the center of their world.
I was willing to bet she could tell any of those boys to climb on the back of the rankest bull they could find, and they’d do it without question.
I could blame it on their age, but it likely had more to do with the skin-tight jeans she had on. Lord knows that was my fucking excuse.
When I turned around, she stared at me over their shoulders, watching my every move. Her blue eyes raked down my body, stopping on the buckle at the top of my jeans. The same buckle I’d worn four months ago, the one she’d fought desperately to get off on.
I couldn’t wear the damn thing now without thinking of the heat in her eyes. I could’ve sworn it was almost the same look she was giving me now, but I wasn’t close enough to be sure.
I slowly walked toward the barn entrance, not stopping myself from listening to their conversations.
“You gonna put on a show today?” one of the guys asked. He was a new hire who had only been at the ranch for a few weeks. I think his name was Justin.
“Not today, boys,” Lennox said, batting her eyelashes. “I’m here to drink, listen to some good music, and watch cowboys fall on their asses. ”
Each of them laughed, going around in a circle and making sure she knew what event they were participating in. Christ, did these guys really fall for that? Did they think that was enough to make her crawl into the back of their truck for a quick fuck?
I’d fire them right now for being so stupid if it were my choice.