Rodeo #2
“No, you came here for him.” She bumped my hip with hers and gestured with her chin across the way.
My gaze followed hers, fixing on Cash Mooney and the rest of his group at one of the high-top tables.
He was the sun shining amidst a sea of neutral colors, bedecked in his pink western shirt and light-washed denim.
He was loud and bright and hot as hell…and catching the eye of every woman in the bar.
“I’m not here for him,” I stated, though I didn’t—couldn’t take my eyes off him either.
“Right, you just dealt with his mother hurlin’ insults at you all night for shits and giggles.” Walker’s voice was warm with laughter.
Violet Mooney was a fucking thorn in my side that I had no idea how to get rid of.
One thing was for certain, family was a big deal for the Mooneys, which was a completely foreign concept to me.
The thought of being so codependent on other people made my skin crawl.
Having people in my business, guiding my actions, knowing all about my love interests and life…
I shuddered. Yeah, no. I liked my independence.
I liked the fact that I didn’t have to worry about anyone or anything other than myself.
Honestly, even the thought of owning an animal seemed too much of a commitment.
And yet, some part of me wondered what it would be like to have all that.
Parents like Cash’s who supported my endeavors with a ferocity I didn’t even know was real.
Friends to be there watching from the sidelines, ready to jump into the thick of it should things turn south at the drop of a hat.
People who cared enough to give a fuck if I was making a bad decision or not.
Not that I’d ever listen, but the thought of having someone there to even offer was as baffling as it was mesmerizing.
Bad’s words floated through my mind. “You don’t get Cash without his mama. All of us really.”
Did I really want to deal with that? Did I want to deal with best friends and overprotective parents and all of the strings attached to Cash?
It’s not like we were dating. It’s not like I even wanted that.
But things were already so much more complicated, deeper, and layered than I ever expected.
I’d only known him for a couple weeks, and that was being generous, and yet, I felt like he’d been in my life for a while now.
From the fire at his place to riding lessons, to the car ride up here and this weekend so far.
Come to think of it, since arriving in Thousand Trails everything kept happening at, like, whirlwind speeds.
So much so, that it was almost like my life before was a distant memory.
I didn’t know how exactly to feel about that.
Nor did I really want to dwell on it much at the moment.
“She’s just scared I’m gonna steal her sweet boy,” I said, giving Walker my best Violet impression, Texas twang and all.
She laughed, and even though she still sported a grin, there was a seriousness laced in with her question. “Are you?”
Thank God I didn’t have a drink because I may have spit it out at a comment like that. A waste of good alcohol if you asked me. “Absolutely not,” I scoffed. “Cash and I aren’t dating. Ever. This is a…situationship at best.”
“I wouldn’t be so sure about that, Ol.”
My head cocked to the side, my words coming out slow and measured as I asked, “What are you talking about?”
She didn’t even get a chance to respond as one of the bartenders interrupted us, asking us for our drink orders. “Double shot of Casamigos, please. And…” I glanced at Walker “a Shirley Temple for the child.”
She stuck her tongue out at me—proving my point—before shrugging. “It’s okay, I happen to like those.”
I snorted. “You would.”
It wasn’t until we’d gotten our drinks that I turned to her and said, “We weren’t done talking about Cash and I. What did you mean, you wouldn't be so sure?”
She shielded her guilty grin by pressing the red straw of her drink to her lips and nodded at the hat still perched atop my head. “I mean…he kinda claimed you.”
“He what?”
Claimed me? What the fuck was she talking about? I tossed back the first of my shots but it did little to kill the anger brimming in my chest. There hadn’t been, nor would there ever be, any sort of claiming.
“You know…” Her grin tugged wider. “The hat rule.”
“What hat rule?” And why the hell was she being so cryptic? The only hat rules I knew of were that you didn’t put a cowboy hat brim side down on any surface, and you didn’t put it on the bed unless you wanted bad luck.
She bit her lip, her words little more than a squeak. “Um…you know, you wear the hat, you ride the cowboy one. He put his hat on you in front of the entire arena. He basically told everyone there…and everyone watchin’ on the Cowboy Channel that you're his.”
I threw back my other shot, barely even registering the burn. More. I needed fucking more. “That motherfucker,” I hissed, spearing my gaze toward the table he still stood around. Laughing and smiling and completely oblivious.