Page 32 of Bull Rush

“You’re not going home yet,” Jasper, a manager from the construction company and Marlowe’s brother, argues. “We don’t get you out often enough.”

“Ready to head to Seven?” Bo looks around at the table as he signs the ticket.

“I’m your captive, apparently,” Anson grumps, but I can tell he’s having fun despite himself.

Anson out with us like this is a rare occurrence, and we’re all trying to make the most of it. His circumstances don’t allow for a lot of free time, but he’s never been the same since he lost his wife. They’d settled down shortly after high school, bought a small house, had a kid, and started his business all pretty quickly. He never had a wild bachelor streak like the rest of us. He’d still been the grumpy, quiet type back then too, but he smiled a fuckton more then than he does now. I suppose losing your wife so young sucks a lot of the joy out of your life. I know losing mine had been hard enough, and I had the benefit of knowing she was alive and happy somewhere else.

We’re notat Seven Sins long before we’re set up at a corner booth, watching the crowd on the dance floor and nursing beers. Bo’s been out a few times, along with Cade and Kingston,and Jasper’s already taken off for the night so he can get up early for work, but Anson’s remained my stalwart companion for the evening despite his misgivings about staying out.

“That terrible?” I ask when Anson starts to peel the label off his bottle. He looks up like he’s forgotten I’m sitting here and gives me an apologetic smile.

“Just not much for dancing or any of this. I’d rather be back at home.”

“You don’t meet many people that way, I imagine.”

“You assume I want to meet someone.”

I press my lips together and raise my brows, figuring he has a fair point. I let things fall silent again, watching as one of the two women Bo’s been dancing with runs her hands over the front of his pants and kisses him hard.

“You don’t have someone back in Cincinnati pissed that you’re still married?” Anson’s been watching the same dance floor drama as me and seems to be bored of it if he’s asking these kinds of questions.

“Nah. Same as you. I’d rather be out in nature or working out. The rest is just too much work for anything less than someone like Haze.”

“She’s still got you by the balls all these years later, then?” Anson studies me.

I shrug. “If you want to be a dick about it, yeah, I guess you could put it that way.”

He lets out a muted laugh and wipes the condensation off the bottom of his bottle.

“You got a plan if she won’t bite?”

That’s the million-dollar question, and the answer is, I don’t. At least not yet. I probably made my stupidest bet yet, and I have no backup if it goes south. I’m about to ask Anson about his own circumstances when Bo comes back to the table,the two women who we were with him trailing behind, and a third friend of theirs has appeared out of nowhere.

Bo helps one of them into the booth between him and Anson, and the other slides in after him. The third woman, much quieter than the other two, eyes the seat next to me but doesn’t take it.

“Do you mind?” She nods to it.

“No, go ahead.” I scoot over and make sure there’s plenty of daylight between us. I don’t need rumors swirling that I’m barely back and already cheating on my wife—the small-town gossip mill always needs something to keep it fueled. But she seems about as interested in me as I am in her, so I’m not too bothered.

“Ramsey Stockton. It has been a long time.” The woman sitting on the edge of the booth across from me flashes me a grin and her cleavage as she leans over to pat my hand. “I watched all that coverage of you on TV. I’m so glad you’re finally out. You didn’t deserve to serve any of that time.” A breath mint rattles around in her mouth as she speaks, and something about her appearance is familiar, but I can’t place it.

“You remember Faith and Holly from school?” Bo points to the women on either side of him. Faith is the one with the breath mint, and Holly’s the one wedged between Anson and Bo, her hand currently pressed to Anson’s shoulder as she talks to him, and he backs further and further into the corner like a caged animal.

“It’s definitely been a while,” I answer vaguely on purpose because I have no recollection of either woman.

“You’re so funny.” Faith smacks the back of my hand, and I pull back.

“I think you need a water.” The quieter one at my side is eying her friend like she’s a bit embarrassed of her.

“Could you get me one? You know Dakota hates me.” Faithrolls her lip at her friend, and when she notices that I’m listening, she turns to me to air her complaints. “She always wants to charge me two dollars for some cold tap water. It’s ridiculous.” She rolls her eyes.

Dakota and I were in the same grade growing up, so knowing that those two don’t like each other fills in at least some of the pieces of the social politics for me. Dakota was particular about who she was friends with, but if she didn’t like you, there was usually a pretty damn good reason for it. Like breaking her best friend’s heart.

“I’ll get it.” The woman next to me hops down and heads back across the bar.

“Sorry about her. That’s Avery. She’s new in town. Just started working at the casino, and we’ve adopted her into our little group, but being from the city… well, you know how they are since you’ve just escaped.” Faith is loquacious as hell when she’s drunk, apparently.

“Ah. Well, they’ve got their reasons, I’ve found.”

---