Page 20 of Bull Rush

“It can be both.” Bristol grins and takes another slow sip of the Long Island iced tea she’s been hitting hard since we got here.

“I’d get him in bed, get naked, ride that cowboy right to the edge, and then walk out and leave his ass with the worst blue balls of his life. Remind him of exactly what he fucked up.” Dakota’s the kind of person you never want to cross.

“Is there a version where I don’t get naked with him? I think that’s probably not in my best interest.” Namely, because Ramsey is a lot of things I’d rather forget, but some parts of him are more memorable than others.

“You miss him?” Marlowe looks at me thoughtfully.

“She misses his dick.” Bristol laughs.

“It was the one thing he was really good for.” It’s not a fair thing for me to say. Ramsey had plenty of other virtues; I’ve just worked hard to forget all of them and focus on the things I hate.

“Be fair. He plays decent ball too.” Dakota grins.

I shrug before I take a sip of my drink. I’m nursing it even though I’d rather be having more than my fair share. Drunk me is less ethical than sober me, and with temptation sleeping in my guest room, I need to keep my wits about me.

“Okay, enough talk about him. I need an escape from Ramsey, not a rehash of his greatest hits. He’s barely been here a couple of days and already taken over everything. He’s driving me crazy.” I try to steer the conversation away from Ramsey Stockton, but it’s like trying to tame a tornado. He’s the whirlwind of destruction that has everyone in town’s interest.

“You know we’ll help with the body if necessary,” Bristol chimes in.

“I might need it. He’s literally everywhere. The kitchen. The living room. The stables. Chatting with Kit in the inn. I can’t escape him, and now he’s started doing little things to help. Feeding the horses and hauling hay with Kell and Elliot. Running around seeing what he can fix at the inn.”

“Disgusting.” Dakota shakes her head, but a smile cracks despite her attempts to look disapproving.

“Not that!” Marlowe gives me a mock horrified look as she presses her palm to her chest.

“I still think you should torture him. Give him something to do that isn’t bothering you. Or better yet, put him to work doing all the shit jobs around the ranch and inn. Make him muck stalls. Send him out to the far pastures to check the fences. Make him do the laundry. Wash the dishes.” Bristol’s daydreaming about getting that kind of help herself around the house. Bristol’s single, but between helping her family out and keeping her business open, she’s juggling hard to keep everyone floating.

“That’s not torture for him. Torture is reminding him he’s about to lose his gorgeous wife in a few short months to another man. Start doing your wedding planning in front of him,” Marlowe offers, and I raise my brow at her sudden switch to the dark side. “What? I’m just trying to help,” she replies defensively.

“Not the wedding planning. The honeymoon planning.” Dakota’s eyes glitter with the idea.

“That seems cruel.” I press my lips together, letting another sip of the whiskey-laden drink burn my throat. “Then again, I do like to watch the man suffer.”

“That Rampage game we went to where the Chaos lost to them? Brutal.” Bristol smirks. I’d picked up tickets for my birthday, claiming I won them, and was reluctantly going to go if my friends could go with me. It was a bittersweet sort of regret the minute I watched him step onto the field and heard the home state chant his name right alongside the handful of Chaos fans in the stadium.

“Do you have lingerie you can parade around in? Ask him what he thinks would work best for the honeymoon.” Dakota’s still planning Ramsey’s torture.

“No. I’ve been meaning to get some. But all the good places are up in Denver.” I love living out in the middle of nowhere, but the one downside is needing to travel into the city for any semblance of choice. At least, unless I got wild at midnight clicking the buy button online. A thing I might treat myself to this weekend given the circumstances.

“What do you have going on tomorrow?” Dakota looks like she’s plotting something.

“Not much… a few guests are leaving, but Grace could get them checked out.” I give her a skeptical look in return, nervous about what her creative mind could come up with.

“So let’s go.” Dakota’s eyes glimmer with mischief.

“Do it!” Bristol adds.

“And then you can ask him for honeymoon spot suggestions. Those athletes are always traveling to the most gorgeous places. I bet he has some recommendations.” Marlowe grins when I look to her for a sane opinion.

“You guys are evil.”

“Supportive. Evil. It’s all the same.” Dakota takes another sip of her drink and grins at me. “Pick me up tomorrow at nine.”

“Are you going to be ready that early?” I ask, noting that she’s already a couple of drinks deep and not an early riser on a good morning.

“I will be for this. Don’t worry about me. Just make sure you are, ’cause you’re driving. But I’ll buy lunch.”

“All right. Are any of you coming?” I look around the rest of the table. I might need support fending off Dakota’s more devious plans.

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