Page 33 of Heartless
I’d like to tug on that hair too,is what I’m thinking when I feel a hand clamp down on my shoulder. “Cade, buddy, how are ya?”
The smile comes easily now. My high school friend, Lance Henderson, is towering over me, grinning like the fucking loon he is.
I stand, reaching out to shake his hand in a firm clap while slapping at his shoulder. It’s our kind of equivalent of a hug. “I’m doin’ alright. How about you? What brings you out this way?”
“Rodeo nearby. Thought I’d take a detour through the old stomping grounds.”
“Yeah?”
“Heck yeah.” He nods at the table. “Look at you all. The entire Eaton clan. What is this? Some sort of family reunion?”
“Nah, that’s next month.”
His eyes drop, and I catch him eyeing up Willa, who is pretending to pay attention to everyone else in the loud bar, but I can tell by the angle of her head that she’s eavesdropping. Snoopy little thing.
When I glance back at Lance, it’s almost impossible to miss the appreciative way he’s looking at her.
And it fucking bugs me.
I take a step over, blocking Willa with my body. “This isn’t the grocery store, Henderson. Whatchya looking for?”
His head tips back and he barks out a laugh. “That your girl, Eaton?”
I scowl back at him. “No. She’s my nanny.”
He arches a brow at me from beneath his tan cowboy hat. “Yournanny?”
I sigh like I’m exasperated with him, but no chance am I backing down on this. “You heard me, dickhead. How long you in town for?”
His eyes are twinkling, but he doesn’t push the Willa thing any farther, and I drop my shoulders, tension easing out.
Pathetic.
“Just one night. Was actually hoping to get in touch with you. Couldn’t find ya on social media.”
“Why would I need social media?” I deadpan.
“I don’t know. To stay in touch with friends like me?”
“Once every five or so years in person is perfect for me. Too much of a good thing and all that.” I like Lance but me sharing photos with him and hearting his status updates—never.
“I need a partner. My guy is out with a broken collarbone. We’re close to qualifying for the national finals.”
“No.”
“Why not? You’re one of the best penners I’ve ever seen. It’s a shame you never continued.”
People don’t get it. Traveling around rodeoing was never an option for me. No one ever asked me if that’s what I’dliketo do. Because I would have loved to do it. I am a good fucking cowboy. But duty called, and that duty was here at home. The ranch. Luke. Family.
I was never granted the privilege of doing whatever I wanted, and being reminded of it smarts.
“I rope and pen all the time. For work. Not show.”
“Good, then you’re not out of practice.”
“Lance, it ain’t gonna happen.” I cross my arms over my chest, hearing the buzz of conversation behind me, but I can feel Willa shift closer toward the midline of the couch.
“Why not?”
