FORTY-SEVEN
BLAIR
“The goddamn thing’s rigged, you asshole!” Colt shouts at his ex, pointing back at the mechanical bull in the corner of Quitter’s.
Austin’s eyes flick over at him, bored as can be as she mixes a cocktail in her shaker.
“It’s not rigged. You’re just out of practice and don’t know how to ride anymore.”
I snort at the double-entendre, and it brings Colt’s attention over to me as if he could’ve possibly heard it over the music and the shouting. After weeks of renovations, Quitter’s Saloon is open for business again and the locals are taking full advantage of it.
“Baby, tell her the thing’s rigged and I know how to ride a fucking bull,” he whines petulantly, coming to sit beside me in the booth.
I pat his cheek. “You know how to ride a bull,” I promise, though I’m not sure. In the weeks leading up to telling Colt I was pregnant, I’d stalked his Instagram. And YouTube. And TikTok. He knew how to ride a bull then , but I didn’t know about now.
“I think we’re the only sober ones here besides Austin,” I tell him to distract him. I’d been people-watching while he’d been repeatedly falling off the back of a mechanical bull.
“Nah, Tate and Tyler are underage.”
I nod. This is true. I don’t think it means they’re sober though.
The jukebox plays some upbeat country song that has the two of them showing off the dancing lessons they took when they were kids.
I’ve only gotten to see them dancing once before, but I know beyond a shadow of a doubt that they can dance better than they are right now.
Beside them, Kenny hangs off of Theo, her arms around his neck and her body entirely too close to a man that’s technically still her boss when she took up shifts at the feed store.
Theo’s hands sit low on the small of her back, but they’ve definitely migrated south from where they’d originally started out.
Bailey plops down on the other side of the booth and follows my eyes over to her sister with a snort before pulling out her phone to film them.
“Colt, you may want to update your date in the betting pool.”
“What?” He’d been glaring at the bull, watching another man ride it with absolutely no trouble. He sees Bailey’s phone out and also looks over at Kenny and Theo with a grumbled, “Goddammit.”
“What was your guess?” I ask him, leaning against his side when he turns to face forward again.
“Three years from now.”
I snort, agreeing with Bailey that they won’t possibly last three years. “She’ll start teaching Callie next fall, right? I’d guess it’ll happen then.”
“Oh yeah? What are you betting with? You didn’t bring your purse.”
“Put it on my cowboy’s tab,” I tell Bailey, patting Colt’s bicep. Bailey grins and winks at me.
“With Mama watching Callie overnight, it wouldn’t surprise me if they end up getting together tonight,” Jameson says, coming up behind us and then knocking the hat off Colt’s head. “The hell was that riding, bro?”
Colt grumbles, picking up his hat, which reads Boner Donor, much to my displeasure.
Movement by the bar catches my eye and I look over just in time to see Austin passing Tate a shot on the sly and Tyler snatching it out of her hand just before she can down it, shooting it back himself. Maddox comes out of nowhere and slaps Austin on the ass for her antics, but she only grins.
I’ve never seen Maddox drunk, but it’s funny as hell.
He’s clingy, his arms wrapping around Austin’s waist and his lips pressing to her neck.
She just grins and continues making drinks.
I’m sure this sort of stuff won’t fly after opening night, but right now, the entire town’s just happy to have their bar back.
Despite the way Austin snarks at a man as she slides him a bottle of beer, I think the town’s happy to have their bartender back, too.
“Fucking Cartwright,” Colt seethes under his breath, making Bailey’s brows furrow as she follows her twin’s line of sight to the man jumping down from the mechanical bull with a wide grin on his face.
He looks over at our table and winks at Bailey and then points to Colt to make it clear whom he’s talking to before he flicks a bird.
“I don’t know what you ever saw in that man, Bailey.”
“He has a big cock,” Bailey says with a shrug, downing the last of her cocktail before heading to the bar. Colt grimaces and hides his face in my hair again.
Chase watches her until she gives him an up yours gesture, his grin growing as he turns to head toward the restrooms.
I enjoy people-watching. I always have. You can learn a lot about someone just by watching them when no one’s looking.
I used to sit in stairwells in my foster homes and watch them all interact with one another, time how long it took for them to notice I wasn’t engaging.
Perhaps that’s why everyone always thought I was shy .
I wasn’t, not really. I’m just perceptive and slow to trust. I like gathering data about someone to make an informed decision before I call them a friend.
Hence stalking Colt’s socials all those months ago until I finally decided to reach out to him.
I have to admit, that may have been the only time my research failed me.
I should’ve reached out much, much sooner than I had, but given the fact I only had his social media to base my decision on, and his social media was run by his manager, it didn’t really give me a good idea of who Colt truly was.
Bailey turns to look at our table, where Colt is talking to Jameson now, and I’m the only one paying her any attention.
She downs the two shots Austin has placed in front of her, presses her finger to her lips, and slips off the barstool.
I catch where she’s going pretty quickly and watch Colt to make sure he doesn’t notice his sister sneaking into the men’s restroom.