My grip on the steering wheel tightens. “Get to the point please.”
“Point is, kid, I opened the envelope to find not only pictures of you with some bombshell, but also a marriage license. One you signed.” He sounds stupidly fucking proud of himself. If we'd done this in person, I might have strangled the asshole for finding amusement in all of this.
A marriage license? Me? I wasn't in Vegas in December. It can't be possible. I’d been there earlier than that. I'd been there for the game and then I got the news I was traded. The only other thing I did after was... fuck.
“Name. What's the other name on the certificate, Todd?” All my cool is gone. The worry and panic come out in a high-pitched cry for him to move faster, to read quicker.
Shuffling, and then, “Rose. Rose Wright. You know her?”
My throat constricts as I think of all the ways I could answer that. I know the sounds she makes when she's on the edge of falling apart. I know the way her body shivers when my hands touch her favorite places. I know the look she gives when she wants me to fuck her harder, to give her more.
But none of that is for Todd to know. That stays between me and Rose.
Rose, my wife.
“Find her,” I bite out. “Find her now, Todd.”
CHAPTER 7
PLEASE TELL ME YOU'RE JOKING.
Rose
Jordan Davis's “Dreamed You Did” blares from the speakers as I mix a Jack and Coke for Boris, one of my regulars. I hum along to the song as I let the words wash over me. They're a little too close to home, but that's what happens when I make the playlist for the bar.
Sips is my baby in all ways. From ordering the alcohol and running the books, to the playlist and redesign of the interior, it's all me. I worked relentlessly on this project the second I woke up that first full day here in Firefly Cove.
My Daddy says I'm single minded like that. Swore the moment I decided to follow in Nate's footsteps to be a bull rider that there was nothing anyone could say to make me change my mind. And trust me, more than a few people did back then. I proved them all wrong and then some.
“Thank you, Rosie,” Boris tells me with his thick Russian accent as he takes the glass from me. I wink at him then turn to face the next customer. He'll be here for several more hours and another drink or two before he leaves for the night. I'll talk to him later if I have time.
Instead of finding another customer, I find Bridgett waiting with wide eyes. “I need to talk to you,” she says hurriedly.
I lean over the bar and wipe up some invisible dirt from the rich, brown walnut bar top. Nate and Beckett helped me install this new one when I realized just how bad the other one was. Being behind it every day brings a smile to my face knowing I did it. I accomplished the one thing I didn't think possible.
Sips. My retirement project and now full-time job is everything I dreamed of and more.
“What's up, sis? Little early for you to be coming in for a drink.” It's six p.m. on a Thursday, not her normal time, though I don't mind serving her if she needs something strong.
She shakes her head then wrings her hands together. “I'm not here about me or drinking. A few minutes ago, I was in Old Rusty's workshop, and I overheard Verle and her minions talking about you.”
My head drops to the bar top as I groan. “Nooooooo. Please tell me you're joking.”
“I wish I was. She was saying something about knowing the perfect guy for you. It looked like she was on a call when I peeked around the corner. I didn't stick around for the details since I wanted to come out here to warn you.”
She reaches across to squeeze my hand. The touch is comforting enough to take away the initial frustration. Still, there's nothing like knowing the little old ladies of your town are trying to marry you off to someone they barely know. Of course, they started with men they knew. When I made it abundantly clear that these men would be barred from my bar permanently and that there was not a chance of us getting together, they all stopped following Verle's lead.
But now it seems she's venturing further out. I bet Houston is the first place she'll look to find someone to set me up with.
“Why me?” I mumble to Bridgett. “You're single. Why can't she focus on you?”
A shrug is my answer when I glance up. “Your guess is as good as mine. I'm the older one. Technically, I should be married off first if we're basing this off antiquated notions. I don't know why Verle cares all that much. She seems pretty smitten with the idea of finding love for the town's princess. Her friends play along with it because it's probably the most entertainment they get outside of reality television.”
“I'm no one's princess.”
“Ok, fine. The apple of their eye. Their favorite. The crown jewel of Firefly Cove,” she crows.
I whip my towel at her, sending her back from the bar with raised hands. “Enough of that crap. I'm a normal person. A Wright just like you.”