Babysitting Duty
Apparently Sadie requires not one, but two escorts to take her to the lodge. Pissing me off seems to be my dad’s favorite hobby—and babysitting the princess is his new method of choice. Lucky me.
The lodge hums with noise—boots scuffing against the pine floors, silverware clinking, scattered laughter. This is only the beginning. Next week, there won’t be a single empty seat.
We have a separate room in the back for staff, but Dad likes for us to show face. Says it “helps guests feel welcome.” Which is a nice way of saying it sells the experience.
That’s always been more Emmett’s thing—small talk, easy charm, and smiling through the bullshit.
Emmett slaps my shoulder, nodding toward a row of empty barstools. I move with him, guiding Sadie, and without thinking, my hand lightly brushes the small of her back.
She stiffens.
It’s subtle, a micro-reaction, but it’s enough. I drop my hand immediately, shoving it into my pocket like I should’ve done in the first place.
I wasn’t thinking.
It doesn’t mean anything.
The middle stool scrapes against the floor as she gently pulls it out. She glances up, those vivid green eyes flicking to mine before she looks away and slips onto the stool.
Emmett’s already taken the spot to her right, flagging down the bartender. I settle into the one on her left. The long dining tables are packed, but we can order from here.
“Well, if it isn’t the two most handsome cowboys in all of Elk River,” Lydia says, smirking as she drops coasters in front of each of us. She pauses when she gets to Sadie, one brow lifting. “And you must be the new girl,” she teases, grin tugging wider. “How’s your stay so far?”
I bite back a smile. Lydia is my best friend, Landon’s little sister. This is her second summer living on the ranch and working in the lodge.
We all grew up together, until their parents split. They had to sell the house and move back in with their mom’s family on the reservation.
Landon doesn’t talk much about what it was like moving there those few years. He came back and started working on the ranch when he was fifteen and has lived in the bunkhouse ever since.
Sadie shifts beside me, her fingers tugging the hem of her shirt.
She’s infuriatingly impossible to ignore. A distraction—and distractions only lead to trouble.
“Oh, no. I’m not really a guest.” She clears her throat. “Just here to help out for the summer.”
Lydia returns with three waters, setting them on our coasters. Her gaze lingers on Sadie, studying her.
“Sadie here is our most special guest,” Emmett says, grinning as he slings an arm around her shoulders. “A real VIP.”
Lydia glances at his arm, then back at Sadie. Her smile sharpens. “Aww. Are you allergic to the word girlfriend, Emmy?”
Emmett chokes on his water, spraying the bar top. We all groan in unison.
“Jesus, relax. You guys are worse than my brother,” Lydia mutters, dragging a towel from her back pocket to wipe the counter. “No labels for you commitment-phobes.”
Emmett rolls his eyes.
“No. No. I’m not with them—I mean, him,” Sadie blurts, color flooding her cheeks. “I’m not with anyone.”
Heat crawls up my chest when I see the flush lingering on Sadie’s skin.
She said them before she corrected herself. Whether she meant to or not, her mind went to both of us.
To me.
“Uh-huh, gotcha,” Lydia says, easily, her smile warm. “Either way, it’s nice to meet you, Sadie.”
I keep my eyes on my glass, watching the ice slowly melt.
Lyd’s not completely wrong about the label. We’ve dated and had a few girlfriends in high school, but a small town means small dating pool—we were bound to overlap at some point. Especially after Dad implemented the rule.
Emmett dated girls I’d hooked up with and vice versa. When it became some kind of twisted game for the girls—who could date both Morrow brothers and compare—I pulled back, and Emmett started chasing after tourists.
Don’t get me wrong, I love my brother, but there’s not a single part of me that desires to share a girl with him.
The second he finishes eating, Emmett stalks out of the dining lodge, muttering something about a stupid fucking donkey under his breath.
Sadie sets her napkin over her half-eaten sandwich and nudges the plate aside. My brow furrows, but I don’t say anything.
Staff meals are comped, but I still toss a twenty down on the counter for Lydia. She grins, slipping it into the pocket of her apron.
“Aww, are you getting soft on me, Wes? I always knew there was a teddy bear hiding in there.” She winks, scooping up our plates. “You riding this weekend?”
“Yeah. Me and Emmett are for sure. Landon in?”
“Please. No one can keep that idiot away from a bucking bull.”
I stand, pushing my hat back to rake a hand through my hair, then drop it on backward again.
We might work cattle and ride bulls, but cowboy hats have always felt performative to me. This isn’t an act. I’m not pretending to be anything I’m not.
Sadie looks up and I tilt my head toward the door. She slips off her stool, waving goodbye to Lyd.
“I better see you there too, not-Emmett’s-girlfriend!” Lydia giggles before disappearing behind the swinging door.
I chuckle, shaking my head as I follow Sadie out, holding the door for her.
She spins to face me the moment we are outside.
“That’s not going to be a thing, right?” Her voice is low. “I don’t want people getting the wrong idea or anything.”
“Don’t worry about it. Lydia gives everyone a hard time. Means she likes you.”
“Like when a boy’s mean to you in third grade and everyone swears it means he likes you?” she scoffs.
“Yeah, something like that.”
She rolls her lips between her teeth, a flicker of tension crossing her face before she hikes her thumb over her shoulder.
“Well, I should head back. I have a ton of work to do and I’m still getting the hang of everything. Thanks for lunch, though.”
“Hold up. I’ll walk you.”
“I can literally see the barn from here. I think I’ll manage.” She scoffs as she turns away, but I catch up to her in two long strides.
“You don’t need to thank me for lunch, by the way. Staff meals are comped. If you haven’t noticed, my dad is big on his people being taken care of.”
She nods but doesn’t say anything.
It’s a perfect kind of day. Clear blue skies, sunshine soaking deep into your skin, effortlessly peaceful. The crunch of our footsteps in the dirt is the only sound filling the silence.
Days like this remind me how lucky I am—and how I wouldn’t trade this life for anything.
We’re about halfway to the barn when she finally acknowledges me walking alongside her.
“What was she talking about?”
“Who? Lydia?”
“Yes, about this weekend. Where are you going?”
“Hm. I thought Emmett would’ve asked you already.”
“Clearly not. Are you going to tell me or keep dancing around my questions?”
The corner of my mouth quirks. “I don’t dance, Princess.”
She sighs deeply and rolls her eyes again. “Don’t call me that. Actually, whatever. I don’t care enough to participate in this roundabout conversation anymore.”
“Alright, don’t get all worked up.” She opens her mouth—definitely about to argue—but I hold my hand up to stop her. “The rodeo.”
She closes her mouth briefly, pinching her eyebrows together. “What?”
“It’s casual. Nothin’ too crazy, but we do alright.”
“Bull riding?” she asks, disbelieving.
“That surprise you?” I sweep a hand around us. “Have you forgotten where you are?”
“It’s impossible to forget.” She pauses, biting her lip—and I can’t not look. It’s the smallest thing, but I’m ensnared, my gaze falling to the still-healing cut. “Isn’t it, like, really dangerous though?”
“There’s risk in everything. Less if you know what you’re doing—which we do.” I smirk.
“I guess.” She trails off as we reach the front of the barn. “Well…thanks for walking me back. How very gentlemanly of you.”
“I was heading this way, anyway. Don’t read into it.” Turning to face her, I hold my hand out, palm-up. “Give me your phone.”
“Why?”
“Because I told you to.”
She raises her eyebrows.
“It’s important.”
I wiggle my fingers until she finally gives in, without bothering to unlock it.
I hold the phone up between us, waiting until I feel the faint vibration confirming it’s recognized her face, unamused expression and all.
Then I punch in my number, send myself a text so I’ve got hers too, and hand it back without a word.
“I’ll text you the details about this weekend. My dad let’s us take off early. We usually head out around noon. The drive there is a real bitch if we hit traffic,” I call out, walking backward.
“What makes you think I want to go anywhere with you?”
“Figured you’d want to be there to cheer on your not-boyfriends.” I smirk as I pull open the driver’s-side door of my truck.
“I thought we agreed not to make that a thing!”
“See ya later, Princess!” I shout back before slipping into my seat and starting up the engine.
I can’t help but look back at her, still standing there with her brow furrowed and her hands resting on her hips as I pull away.
Dust kicks up behind me, clouding her reflection in my rearview, but not before I see her glance down at her phone and smile.
A real one.
My chest tightens, but I look away and shake my head, refusing to lose my mind over a fucking smile.