Page 13 of Her Filthy Cowboy

I clutch my chest, willing my racing heart to calm down. “Liam! You scared me half to death. What are you doing here?”

He ignores my question, his gaze zeroing in on the cowboy hat and jacket I’m wearing. “I’d imagine Pitcher’s Brew was more than satisfactory, considering you’re wearing Brody Clayton’s clothes.”

My cheeks flush with embarrassment. “How did you know they were his?”

Liam chuckles darkly and holds up his phone. “It’s all over social media. Apparently you two put on quite the show tonight.”

My stomach drops, and I fumble for my phone with shaking hands. Sure enough, when I open up Instagram, I’m greeted with photos of Brody and me. Dancing, him putting his hat on my head, walking out of the bar together.

I groan, rubbing my temples. This is a disaster. If my parents see these...

“I also heard you’re writing a story about him now.” Liam crosses his arms over his chest. “Getting real close to the enemy, aren’t you?”

I grit my teeth, silently cursing small-town gossip. “He’s not the enemy. And what I do with my personal life is none of your business.”

“The hell it isn’t. You’re my sister. And Brody Clayton is a cocky bastard who’s hated our family for years.” Liam stands up and tosses his phone on the couch. “What are you thinking, Savannah?”

“I’m thinking that I’m a grown woman who can make her own decisions.” I curl my hands into fists at my sides.

“Not when those decisions could affect our whole family.”

Anger surges through me at Liam’s words. I step toward him, glaring up into his face. “How dare you. My writing has nothing to do with our family. This is about my career. I’m doing an important story.”

“Right.” He scoffs. “Important. Is that what you call rubbing up on Brody Clayton in a bar for everyone to see? You’re making a fool of yourself over that arrogant prick.”

“I’m not a fool. And I’m not ‘rubbing up’ on anyone. We danced together, so what? It’s not a crime.”

Liam’s jaw clenches. “It is when he’s a Clayton. Have you forgotten what that family has done to us? To Dad? Where’s your loyalty, Savannah?”

“Ugh! When are you going to let go of this stupid feud? It’s ancient history.”

“That feud is our legacy. Grandpa Sullivan?—”

“Is dead.” My words are harsh, I know. “Along with whatever imagined slight started this whole thing. It’s time to move on.”

Liam sets his jaw stubbornly. “Brody is only interested in one thing when it comes to you. And it sure as hell isn’t an interview for some fluff piece.”

“You don’t know that. You don’t know him.”

“I know his type. Hell, I’ve been his type.” Liam runs a hand through his hair in frustration. “He’s going to chew you up and spit you out.”

“I’m a big girl, Liam. I can take care of myself. I’m writing this article, and I’m going to keep seeing Brody. So you might as well get over it.” I square my shoulders and meet his gaze head-on. “Because there’s nothing you can do about it.”

With that, I turn on my heel and march upstairs.

I slam my bedroom door behind me and toss my purse onto my bed. Then I shrug out of Brody’s jacket and gently set his hat down on the shelf above it.

My phone buzzes with an incoming text. I dig my phone out of my pocket and see Brody’s name on the screen. My heart skips a beat as I open the message.

It’s a photo from tonight at the bar, clearly taken by someone else there. In it, Brody and I are facing each other on the dance floor. His cowboy hat sits atop my head, and we’re standing so close that our chests are nearly touching. My head is tilted back as I gaze up at him.

But it’s the look on Brody’s face that makes my heart stutter in my chest.

He’s gazing down at me with a hunger that scorches me to my core. There’s something else in his expression too, something tender and almost reverent. Like I’m precious to him.

Like I’m his entire world.

And that’s when I keep scrolling and notice the accompanying message from Brody below the photo.

---