Page 2 of Peaches

My chest constricts further, and I’m not sure how to respond. Thankfully, a waitress in a tight black tank top sidles up to the table. “What can I get you boys to drink?” she asks around a piece of gum.

“Men,” Colt corrects, flashing her a smile.

I cringe inwardly and point my chin at the bottle of beer he’s holding. “I’ll take one of those, please.”

“And two shots of your best whiskey,” Colt cuts in.

The waitress grins. “You got it.”

“That whiskey’s going onyourtab,” I mutter to Colt as I prop my boots on the stool’s footrest.

He chuckles and takes a swig from his bottle.

Honestly, the anticipation of the burn from some whiskey nearly has my hands shaking. I told myself I wouldn’t have any of the hard stuff tonight—I still have to get my ass home later. But with everything going on, sometimes it’s the only thing that loosens the tension. My family’s a fucking mess right now, and I don’t know how to make it better.

Isn’t that always the damn case though?

I shove the thought away as the waitress returns, balancing a bottle of Bud and two shots of whiskey on her black tray’s glossy surface. She places the bottle and a shot in front of me before dropping the second shot for Colt. “Y’all need anything else? We got wings on special tonight.”

“No thanks, honey,” Colt says with a voice like velvet. “But feel free to join us when your shift’s over, yeah?”

She lets out a surprised giggle, twirling a strand of hair around her index finger. I suddenly realize how young she looks—can’t be much older than nineteen or twenty. “Tell me how Ialreadyknow you’re bad news,” she purrs.

Colt makes a show of looking wounded. “Let me prove to you I’m not,” he volleys. And then he turns to me. “Rhett, please tell this sweet young lady how nice I can be.”

I bring my bottle up to my lips. “Hecanbe nice,” I confirm, taking a sip and swallowing. “But he won’t be with you.”

Colt scoffs. The waitress laughs, her smile bright, and I wipe my mouth to hide my own. “You boys be good now, ya hear?” She sashays away, the empty tray tucked beneath her arm.

“Dude,” Colt whines beside me. “What the fuck?”

“That girl is way too young and . . .nice. . . for you to be fucking with. Leave her alone.”

He relents, throwing a hand up. “All right, all right.” He lifts his shot and waits for me to do the same before saying, “Cowboy up, Bennett.”

I relish the way the liquor heats my tongue and throat, welcoming the fire as it slides all the way down to my chest. Immediately, the pressure on my shoulders lifts.

I already want another one.

“We got a card game coming up. After we move the cattle. Ellis has been working on it for weeks—a lot of money on the table.”

Colt watches me intently, no doubt trying to see if it’s enough to bait me. I chuckle dryly. “You know I don’t fuck with that shit anymore.”

He grins. “Rhett, when I say there’s going to be a lot of money on the table, I mean alotof fucking money. Our biggest night yet.”

Can’t help it—my curiosity is piqued. “How much?”

“Maybe half a mil.”

“Jesus,” I choke out. “How the hell do you have that kind of bread lined up?”

He shrugs, turning his focus back to the girls dancing out on the floor. “Ellis made some new friends in Cheyenne.”

“Ellis is going to get you all killed,” I bite out, keeping my voice low. Colt’s brother, the eldest of the Rustler brood, has been organizing these illegal card games since his father handed over the books a decade ago. “For fuck’s sake, Colt—you guys are taking this shit too far.”

I watch as Colt bristles. “Yeah, why do you think I’m asking for you to be there?” His eyes move back to me, burning with focus. “We need more people we can trust at the table. Figure it’s only right to have a Bennett there. For old times’ sake.”

Brooks must not be attending lately then. I shake my head in disbelief . . . but I can’t deny the old tug of recklessness. Kasey would put me in the ground himself if he knew I was even considering this. Our family gets enough heat as it is.

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