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#RopinRanchers #CountryGirl
#CountryLife #ForTheGrovel
#IChooseBlushinBill #RusticRomeoRocks
#MarryMeInstead #ForgiveThemAlready
#WildLifeForLife #LeggoMyLasso
#MakeEmWork #WhyChoose
Icannot contain the eye roll, but that last one really made me chuckle. “I don’t even know what most of this means!” Tilting my phone to David, he reads over the comments and grins, shaking his head.
“They’re rooting for the guys to win you over, and picking who their favorite is.”
“But what does ‘leggo my lasso’ mean?” I ask, frowning as I keep scrolling through. “And why choose? The hell is that?” Every time I refresh my screen, there are more and more views of the videos David has posted over the past few days.
Shrugging, he tosses his empty beer in the trash and settles in the chair next to me. “No clue, but it’s funny. Well, the why choose means why pick one when you can have them all. The big thing is that you’ve got not only your own viewers, but everyone that’s been attached to them has started following you because they want more of the guys.”
I blink, stunned, then frown. I want to ask more questions, but I honestly have no clue what to ask next. Looking out the window, I notice it’s starting to get dark. “You ought to head out. It’s gettin’ late.”
“Yeah. Let’s take a few days off. I’ve got enough material to put a ton of stuff together. If that works with you?”
I look at him like he’s an idiot. “I will never have a problemnotdoin’ this.”
“What are you gonna do tonight?” he asks, chuckling over my obvious dislike of being filmed. The thing is, he’s already found a couple of sponsors for me, and I’ve got a bit more understanding now about why the guys were so attracted to doing this kind of work. It’s a temptation, but I still think I’m going to call it quits after six months.
“Gonna go for a swim. The one good thing about them hangin’ around is that all my chores are caught up. Don’t know what to do with my free time.”
“Theonegood thing? Nothin’ else is good?” I know he’s only teasing, so I stick out my tongue.
“Fuck right off. You know the way out.”
I hear his laughter as I run upstairs to grab a change of clothes and a towel, just in case. By the time I’m back down, he’s gone and I’m alone. The guys left a few hours earlier. I didn’t ask what they were up to, even though I kind of wanted to know. I need to keep reminding myself that things aren’t the way they used to be.
As my old truck ambles through the trail, my headlights fall on the back of Remy’s truck. “Are you fuckin’ for real right now?” They can’t hear me since I’m still inside, but it’s obvious by the looks on their face when I come to a stop that they weren’t expecting me either.
Turning off the engine, I get out and grab my things, then walk slowly over to them. “Fancy meetin’ you here.”
For tonight, if they’re sticking around, I don’t want to fight. I’m so sick of fighting. I’m exhausted, and it’s honestly not gaining any traction with them. They’re stubborn fools, so tonight I’ll succumb to their stubbornness and try not to be a raging bitch.
“Evenin’, Country,” Clyde rumbles out, holding up his bottle in greeting. The other two are just watching me, somewhat hesitantly, like they aren’t sure if I’m gonna kick them out.
“Evenin’, boys. Didn’t expect to see ya’ll out here,” I say, dropping my bag to the ground in front of the small bonfire they’ve set, and sit on the ground. Wrapping my arms around my knees, I bring them to my chest and look around at them one at a time.
My easy movements seem to signal to them I’m not going to fly off the handle, so they all relax back into their positions.
“We just wanted to come out and relax. Didn’t wanna go to the bar, too many people,” Wilder admits, which surprises me. He’s always been the most social out of all of us.
Remy pipes in. “And stayin’ home tonight wasn’t in the cards for a good time.”
Chuckling, I know he’s talking about Trina. “Still haven’t got rid of her?” I ask, unscrewing my bottle and swallowing a large mouthful of whiskey. Then offer it to Remy on my left.
He eyes me curiously as he accepts it, putting his mouth on the rim exactly where I did. I look away and rub my shoulder in nervous energy from the intensity of his stare. His chuckle issoft, knowing he’s put me on edge. When he tries to hand it back, I nod my head to Clyde, who’s opposite of me, across the fire, letting him know to pass it around.
“Damn, Bets. We just brought beer. What are you tryin’ to forget with the hard stuff?” Wilder’s question is playful, but I furrow my brows in thought.
“Nothin’ really. Maybe everythin’. I dunno. Just felt like a swim and a drink.”
