Sorrel #2
We take our beers and leave the shot glasses on the bar. Denton gently places his hand on my elbow, steering me toward the stairs that exit the back of the stage.
“Where are we going?” I ask.
“I thought we could go somewhere a little quieter to enjoy our drinks, if that’s all right with you.”
When we get to the bottom of the stairs, A trash can is off to the left. He crumples the napkin up and shoots it in like it’s a basketball hoop.
I blink, honestly surprised. “You don’t have to throw that away just because you’re having drinks with me,” I say to him.
His only response is raising an eyebrow while taking a swig of his beer.
“Just sayin’ you might have better luck with her tonight than me.”
I clearly have no filter tonight but it’s the truth. I’m not the type to sleep around. No judgment to her or people that do, but I feel my emotions too deeply. I never liked the way it made me feel and I haven't been with anyone since my ex.
He swallows deep and licks his lips. I feel my body heat rising—flushed and a little embarrassed.
“She ain't the one I just bought a drink for,” he finally responds.
I let out a short laugh. “The drinks were free, remember?”
We smile back at each other and I feel myself relaxing a bit.
Letting the tension roll off my shoulders, I don’t want to come across stuck-up.
He doesn’t deserve that. It’s not like he knows my past or anything about me.
We’re just two people having drinks and then we’ll probably never see each other again after tonight.
I owe it to him to at least be kind. I owe myself to let loose and have a little fun.
He continues to lead the way to wherever he’s taking us. I probably should actually find out before just walking off into the dark with this man I don’t know. We’re headed in the direction to the east parking lot. I parked my rig and horses in the west parking lot.
“Okay, you have to tell me where we're going now, mystery man,” I quip and instantly cringe internally.
God, why is everything that comes out of my mouth so cheesy? It’s like I forgot how to talk to a man.
“We’re going—” He’s cut off by a deep ragged voice that comes out from behind a rig.
“Where the fuck are you going with him, Sorrel?”
It’s Huck. He must have been following us the entire time.
Coming out from where he’s hiding he stalks over to us.
His face is dark and threatening, looking like he’s about to snap someone’s head off.
Huck’s eyes lock onto Denton’s and his jaw clenches, knuckles white around a bottle of whiskey.
I could smell the liquor on him earlier, and the bottle is nearly empty now.
He’s such a fucking asshole when he’s drunk.
Damned cowboys and not being able to hold their liquor.
Denton doesn’t flinch. He casually throws his arm around my shoulder, keeping me close by his side.
“Didn’t think you’d still be here, Kenzington,” he says smoothly.
I can’t lie and say I’m not impressed by the cool confidence that washes over him. Then it hits me that he said Huck's name. How in the hell does he know him? I look up at him, my brow furrowed.
He continues. “Thought you'd be off brooding somewhere with your riggin’ and a bottle, but I see you have the bottle part down.”
Taunting Huck Kenzington is like playing with fire. My stomach turns into knots.
Huck turns abruptly, slamming the bottle down onto the back of someone’s tailgate so hard it shatters into pieces.
His hand begins dripping with blood. The spots are a deep red on the rust-colored dirt.
He doesn’t even look down at his injury, probably too drunk to feel it.
He stumbles closer to us. I flinch but Denton holds steady.
Huck points at Denton, his voice low and rough. “Didn’t think you’d be dumb enough to come near her.”
I swallow my fear and walk toward him with my hands up like I’m trying to settle a spooked colt. “You’re bleeding, Huck. Why don’t you go get that cleaned up and call it a night?” I say, my voice pleading and soft.
Denton steps in front of me. “The only one not getting near her is you. As far as I can tell, Sorrel doesn’t belong to anyone. Unless you branded her and I missed it.”
Fuck, here we go. I can literally feel the heat rising between them.
Huck sneers. “You talk real big for someone who sings love songs and has never worked a hard day in his life.”
Denton shoots right back. “And you act real tough for someone who got left in the dust, dead last today.”
Huck must have had a shitty ride today that’s probably what initially set him off. When we were together, I had to walk on eggshells anytime he had a bad ride. I fucking hated it, not knowing if any little thing I said was going to cause an argument. Most of the time it did.
That last blow does it. Huck shoves Denton hard in the chest. I step back instinctively, heart pounding. Denton stumbles a step but comes back swinging. Not with a fist, but with his words. Maybe he isn’t the fighting type.
“She made her choice, Huck. And it isn’t you.”
How does he know that?
Before either of us know it, Huck’s fist is connecting with Denton’s jaw.
Huck is too fast for Denton to dodge, but he doesn’t sway.
He takes it on the chin, brushing it off as if it doesn’t even faze him.
Before Huck can swing again, a pair of thick arms come out of nowhere and lock around Huck from behind.
“All right, that’s enough!” booms a voice as big as the man it belongs to.
Thank God, it's Len. I’d bet the ranch he’s been tracking Huck, knowing he wouldn’t leave me alone after finding me earlier.
He wrestles Huck back with ease, like he’d done it a dozen times before. Because he has.
“You know the rules, Kenzington,” Len growls, as he hauls him through the parking lot. “Start a fight on my grounds, and you’re done. You’re trespassed from the property and I already called your buddy to come get you so don’t think you’re gonna run off now.”
Huck thrashes once, eyes blazing, but Len doesn’t so much as flinch.
Luke pulls up in his old Chevy truck and opens the door from the inside. “I’m so sorry, Sorrel, I should have kept a better eye on him.”
“It’s no one’s fault but his,” I respond, my voice hard.
I’m so tired of everyone taking the fall for his piss-poor decisions.
He needs to learn what accountability is, and I hope someone will teach him one day.
Huck’s friends have always been good to me.
I’m not mad at them. But they sure do have questionable taste in friendships.
Len grabs Huck by the shoulders and throws him into the truck like a sack of grain. It's sort of funny to see him get thrown around by someone his own size.
Huck turns back just before the door slams. His glare meets mine, and I can see a storm of anger in his eyes. I have a feeling he won’t be letting this go.
The door slams shut and they drive off. I let out a big exhale. Not realizing I had been holding my breath the entire time. I gulp down air, trying to catch my breath.
Denton rubs his jaw and lets out a low whistle. “That boy’s got a hell of a punch,” he mutters, flexing his jaw with a grin. “Not a lick of patience, though.”
I look up at him, heart racing. “You okay?”
At least he’s still cracking jokes, so maybe Huck hasn’t totally ruined the night. But I was sure that would scare Denton off though. I’d imagine the last thing he wants is to hang out with a girl whose ex-boyfriend just punched him in the face.
He gives me a once-over and smiles softly. “I’ve had worse. You?”
“I’ve seen worse,” I say, lips twitching. “But thanks for not punching him back.”
He shrugs.
I’m still not over the way he took that punch. There’s a slight red mark on his jaw and something in me wants to reach out and run my fingers along it. I tuck my hand into my pocket, resisting the urge.
“He wasn’t worth spilling my beer. It ain’t right not having anything to drink while getting to know a pretty cowgirl.”
I can’t believe he still wants to get to know me. What the hell is this guy thinking?
Shell shocked for a moment, I finally respond. “You still want that?”
Denton tips his hat, eyes gleaming. “Darlin’, after all that? I think I’ve earned it.”
And damn if he isn’t right. He definitely earned it.