Chapter 10
Kerosene - Miranda Lambert
Wyatt
T he bar was packed to the rafters with folks boot-scooting to the twangy beats. The scuffed hardwood floors were littered with peanut shells, and the tables had damp circles left from sweating beer bottles. Neon signs flickered through the hazy darkness, barely illuminating the crowd swaying and spinning in the dim light.
I squeezed between wobbly tables and abandoned chairs, the smell of stale beer and sawdust thick in the air. Finally, pushing through to the corner, I found Finn hunched over the high-top, looking just as miserable as me while he nursed a longneck.
“We can haul him to the next few rodeos,” Finn said, barely audible over the bar’s pounding music. “Then maybe get him to my place.”
I rested my elbows on the table, pressing my forehead into my palms.
The idea of leaving Drifter behind gnawed at me. For the millionth time, I cursed my father for selling our farm.
“Even if I could afford that, what am I going to do on the circuit without a horse?” I took a long sip of my beer.
The option of leaving him with Finn’s parents was a small comfort. They would give me a deal on boarding him, like before, but I preferred to work off his keep. I didn’t want handouts. The weight of my future pressed down on me like an anvil. With Drifter officially retired, I was a cowboy without a horse.
I took another long pull from my beer, but it was doing little to wash away the reality staring me in the face. How was I going to keep gas in the truck and food in my belly if I couldn’t compete? Rodeoing was more than a way of life; it paid the bills too.
“Without team roping, maybe I should try tie-down again to finish the season.” Finn shook his head, mouth twisting into a grimace. “But I’m too damn old for that shit.”
“C’mon, man,” I teased, trying to lighten the mood. “You’re not that old.”
Finn shot me a withering look, but the corners of his mouth twitched ever so slightly. “I’m not as young as I used to be, jackass. Hell, my knees creak tying my boots these days.”
We were both almost thirty—not old at all—but in tie-down roping, you had to chase down the calf on horseback, jump out of the saddle, wrestle the calf to the ground, and tie up his legs as fast as possible. It was a lot harder on the body. At least in team roping, we stayed in the saddle.
“Why so glum, son?!” Grady placed four colourful drinks with little umbrellas on the table in front of us.
“What the fuck are those?” Finn eyed the drinks.
Grady laughed. “No clue. Compliments of those girls over there.” He pointed to a group of cowgirl wannabes, who were watching us and giggling.
“I’m not drinking that,” I declared. “It looks like unicorn piss.”
“You are drinking it because it would be rude not to,” Grady replied. “Bottoms up, my friend!” He lifted one glass to his mouth, took a big swig, and grimaced. “Shit, that’s sweet. Like Kool-Aid mixed with cotton candy. Fuck, that’s disgusting.”
Finn and I chuckled.
Grady forced a smile and a thumbs-up at the girls. “Where’s Rhett?”
“He said he had something to do. He’ll be here later,” I said.
The bar was filling up fast with a sea of fake cowboy hats and boots; the rodeo brought out the inner country in everybody. The DJ played a decent mix of the good 90s country and the newer radio hits. People’s feet stomped on the dance floor, sending vibrations through the entire building.
“Why are we here?” I asked.
“Because here, we’re the real deal,” Grady answered. “Here, we are gods!” He threw his arms out and his head back, ready to be worshipped by the masses of rodeo fans.
“I need another beer.” I got up.
“Get me one too,” Finn said. “I’m going to need something to wash down this Barbie juice.” He lifted a glass, peering into the contents.
I nodded and headed towards the bar. The bartender was busy at the other end, so I waited.
“Hey, cowboy,” said a voice beside me.
It was the redhead I’d met at the bull riding. Had she told me her name? Shit, I couldn’t remember.
“Hey, umm…”
“Natalie. We met earlier.”
“Right. Of course.” Nope, the name didn’t ring a bell.
Her eyes travelled over me. I gave a polite smile and looked over to where the bartender was flirting instead of pouring drinks.
I eyed Natalie, taking in her made-up appearance. She was pretty enough, with her carefully styled hair and heavy makeup, but there was something artificial about her look, like she’d spent too much time in front of a mirror getting dolled up for a night out.
Kinsley was a natural beauty. She didn’t need layers of makeup or hairspray to turn heads. With her sun-kissed skin, golden waves, and those striking blue eyes, she was stunning without even trying.
“Oh, I love this song!”
I listened for a second and groaned. Of course, it was a Miranda Lambert song.
“Dance with me?” Her smile was coy, and her eyes were bright. She gave a little tug on my shirt.
“Thanks, but I don’t dance, and I hate this song.”
Her face fell, and the guilt hit me. Places like this brought out my inner asshole.
“How about I buy you a drink instead?” The words were out of my mouth before I’d thought it through, but she was beaming at me and there was no going back now.
The bartender made his way over and looked at us. I gestured for her to order first.
“Umm, let’s see…” She tapped her too-long, manicured fingernails on the bar. Could she even hold a drink with those things? “I’ll have a strawberry daiquiri please.”
“A beer for me. Whatever’s on tap.” I put some money down. “Make that two,” I said, almost forgetting about Finn. I fished another bill out of my almost empty wallet. Hopefully, she was a cheap date. “This is for my buddy over there.”
Natalie nodded, took a sip, and followed me back to the table.
Finn raised an eyebrow at me as we approached. “Finn,” I introduced, “this is—” I hesitated. Shit.
“Natalie,” she interjected.
I snapped my fingers. “Right. Natalie. Sorry.” I sat down.
She took the stool next to me, not seeming to care too much that I couldn’t remember her name. “So, are you guys bull riders too?”
“No, we are the much less exciting kind of cowboys,” Finn piped up. “We compete in roping.”
“Oh. Well, that’s interesting too.”
I didn’t believe her. The disappointment on her face gave her away.
Finn smirked at me, and I rolled my eyes. They always want the bull riders.
“So, Natalie, what do you do?” Finn asked.
I meant to pay attention to her answer, but a familiar blonde head on the dance floor caught my attention, and below that, a very familiar denim-hugged ass moving to the beat of the music. There was no escaping her. She was laughing at something Maisey had said, head thrown back in that carefree way that made my heart stutter. Her golden hair was a halo of soft waves, glowing under the strobing lights.
Without thinking, I drank in every detail: the elegant curve of her neck, those full lips stretched in a radiant smile, and the tantalizing strip of toned midriff visible when she lifted her arms over her head. She looked so goddamn beautiful in that moment, unburdened and alive with a joy I ached to be a part of again.
Then her eyes met mine from across the crowd. The world seemed to grind to a halt. The pounding bass faded, and the flashing lights dimmed until there was nothing else but the blazing connection between us.
I felt the breath leave my lungs in a harsh exhale, like she’d just slammed into me at full speed.
Kinsley’s smile faltered, shoulders tensing, but she didn’t look away. Those striking blue eyes held my stare, searing into me with an intensity that was both exhilarating and terrifying. I watched a flash of emotions flicker over her delicate features—surprise, uncertainty, and an undeniable heat that punched straight through to my core.
In that heated moment, it was like the world had fallen away until there was nothing and no one else but her and me. I imagined crossing that space between us, backing her up against the nearest wall and caging her in with my body. I could almost feel the warmth of her soft skin under my calloused palms, taste the sweetness of her lips, and inhale the intoxicating apple scent of her shampoo.
My throat went bone dry at the thought of hauling her up into my arms, pinning her there with my hips as her legs wrapped around my waist, and finally sinking my hands into that glorious tangle of golden hair as I claimed her mouth.
A hard kick to my shin brought me back to reality. Finn was glowering at me from across the table.
“What the hell was that for?” I growled, rubbing the already-forming bruise.
“Your date just left, jackass.”
“Huh? Oh, shit.” Right, Natalie. Shit. “Where did she go?”
“Probably to find someone who would pay attention to her.”
My eyes flickered back over to Kinsley and the guy who was getting too close for my comfort. He moved in nearer, his hands finding her hips as he pulled her against his body and whispered something in her ear.
My jaw clenched hard enough to crack molars, my knuckles straining white against the bottle as he pawed all over her. My every defensive instinct roared to life, screaming at me to go over and rip that asshole off her.
Finn’s eyes followed my line of sight, and he shook his head. “Get used to that.”
“I’ll never get used to another guy’s hands on her,” I muttered, my grip tightening even more around the beer bottle.
“So, what are you going to do about it?”
My jaw ticked, and I scratched at the day-old stubble on my chin. I shouldn’t do anything about it. I shouldn’t. Kinsley was more than capable of taking care of herself; I knew that.
I needed to learn to walk away from her. I should leave right now…