Page 142 of Boots, Bucket Lists & Bad Ideas
A hard knock makes me jump. “What did you find?” Josie rattles the door I’ve locked.
I strike another pose in the mirror, cock a hip, try to smirk.
It’s—a look.
But something about it feels like I borrowed confidence from a woman I’ve never met.
“Jade.” Another knock and rattle of the door.
“Cool your boots.” My eyes drift past the mirror. And that’s when I see it.
Tucked behind a pile of Josie’s mess is a dress I hadn’t noticed before. It’s soft, earth-toned, and long, but not shy. The deep V-neck and slit up the front doesn’t scream, it just purrs, and it’s the kind of fabric that moves when you walk, not clingy, not loud.
Just easy.
Effortless.
Real.
I peel off the little black number and toss it onto the bed. In a few steps, I grab the dress. The fabric kisses my skin, settling around my waist. I pair it with my brown embroidered boots and Stetson.
This is me. The version of me that’s done holding back. Not honky tonk heartbreaker or a back-of-the-truck cliché. Just me.
Confident. Western. Dangerous.
A slow smile curls across my lips, and I open the door with newfound confidence.
Their whistles only boost that confidence.
“It’s perfect.” Natalie pinches my skirt as I walk past her.
“Sexy cowgirl.” Josie tips my hat down.
“Let’s go knock ‘em dead.” I throw open the RV door.
Cheers behind me, I laugh, glance back, and catch my boot on the edge of the worn welcome mat.
It skids.
I stumble. Arms flail. Gravity wins.
I scream, tumble down the metal steps, lose my Stetson, and brace for impact with the hard-packed dirt.
But strong arms catch me mid-fall. I land against a broad chest that smells like leather, sun, and just a hint of hay for days.
“Easy there, darlin’,” a deep, gravelly voice drawls beside my ear.
25: BIG OL’ GRIZZLY BEAR
HART
––––––––
I’M GONNA KILL him.
I’m gonna chop off every last one of Bronx’s limbs and scatter them across seven states.
“You alright there, trouble?” He smiles at Jade, steadying her in his arms like a damn hero.
