Page 59 of Spur of the Moment
Fuck me.
“Four shots of tequila, please,” Brandy shouted over the music to the bartender. He was middle-aged, cute, a little shorter than Bailey. I shook my head, as if that could clear my thoughts. Now I was comparing men to Bailey?
“Four?” I asked her.
“You’ve got two hands, don’t you?”
The bartender lined four shot glasses up in front of us, pouring them to the rim with Patrón. Once he was done, he set the bottle back on the shelf. “There you are, ladies.”
Brandy offered him a sweet smile, assumingly forgetting how much of a lightweight she was. I grabbed for the tequila, downing both shots one after the other. The alcohol warmed my chest as I grabbed the lime he’d set on the napkin in front of me.
“Better?” Brandy asked before she tipped her head back to finish her second shot.
I nodded. “Much.”
She leaned on the bar, knowing it pressed her breasts together, giving the bartender a clear view of her cleavage peeking out of her burnt orange romper.
The outfit was cute on her, with bell sleeves and a flowy bottom. It landed mid-thigh, showing off her long legs, but the v-cut top left little to the imagination. Brandy was all confidence and sass, and I loved that about her.
I’d opted for a denim blue sundress, pairing it with my “going out” cowgirl boots. I knew Bailey loved my outfit because when I’d changed into it after dinner, he couldn’t keep his eyes off of me. Much like the way he couldn’t keep his eyes off me right now.
With the buzz of the tequila working its way through my blood, I pulled on Brandy’s arm, leading us to the dance floor just as “This One’s for the Girls” by Martina McBride started playing. We screamed the lyrics to each other as we danced.
God, I missed this. The familiarity of being in this bar with my best friend, Bailey, and my brothers. As much as I hated them looking out for me, I knew they’d never let anything happen to me. I could let loose and not worry. Not with the six of them standing by.
It felt weird being able to legally drink here now. The bar hadn’t changed one bit in five years, but other things did.Things that couldn’t be seen with the naked eye, like my feelings for Bailey and my love for Bell Buckle.
I’d thought starting over was the answer, but I’d quickly come to find that everything I could ever need was right in front of me the entire time.
31
Bailey
Lettie in that dress would forever be ingrained in my mind. She never used to dress up or wear anything other than her usual jeans, boots, and tank top or tee. Don’t get me wrong, she was goddamn beautiful wearing worn-in boots and dirt-stained jeans. But in a dress? With her hair all curled and running down her back in waves? I was surprised I was still breathing right now.
She danced with Brandy in the middle of the makeshift dance floor, the lights dim and the music loud. Her dress bounced as she moved, and while I definitely wanted a peek of what was underneath, no other guy in this bar needed to see that shit.
“You sleeping with my sister, Cooper?” Beckham’s voice filled my ears.
I kept my arm casually slung on the table, my hand wrapped around my beer, and faced him. “If I am?”
He smiled, shaking his head. “I fucking knew it.” He lifted a finger off his beer, pointing it at me as he took a sip. “You better treat her right. If I’m on the road and find out you hurt her, I won’t hesitate to come back and kick your ass.”
I chuckled, thankful he wasn’t pulling the overprotective brother shit on me. Lettie’s brothers had known me my entire life. I was the least of their worries when it came to her.
“You act like your brothers can’t handle me.”
“Oh, I’m sure they can. I just want to be here to watch your ass get beat,” Beck said.
“Ah, you’re just butthurt you lost every fight growin’ up.”
“You know how much muscle it takes to stay on a bucking bronc?”
“Please, enlighten us, Beckham,” Callan said as he came over and reached across the table to grab his beer.
“Beck talkin’ about rodeo again?” Lennon interrupted, making his way over from where he was playing pool with Callan.
Reed sat along the half-wall with his arms crossed. I wasn’t sure if he’d overheard our conversation. If he did, he wasn’t giving any reaction as he watched the dance floor.
