Page 18 of Bourbon Breakaway

“Hey, Bobby. You know everyone at the table?” Molly is ever-polite.

When I first met Molly, I wondered if she was a pushover. But the longer I knew her, the more I understood she has a strength I don’t. It’s actually easy to stand up for yourself. To get mad. It’s harder to let people think what they think and still go about your business with confidence.

When I realized Molly was said woman, I developed endless respect for her.

Bobby—who I know from the stables—nods at Logan and Ashton. “Course I do. Climbing that Starlight Canyon social ladder one rung at a time?”

I can’t tell if it’s a question or a statement, but either way, this man is treading a fine line. Unlike Molly, I haven’t outgrown my temper.

He scoffs. “Shame I don’t have all the skills you do.” He trails his judgmental gaze along her body, allowing a brief stop at Molly’s chest. “Guess Dash just doesn’t think I have your assets.”

I’m ready to land a punch on his smug little jaw and stand up so fast my chair pushes back with a screech. “I think it’s time for you to leave, because I’m a few drinks deep and I’m starting to hear things.”

Ashton chimes in behind me, “Man, don’t make me stand up, too.”

Bobby glances behind me at Ashton and Logan, and his body language changes. He’s a dumbass but he knows better than to tempt a man who shreds ice and beats bodies into plexiglass for a living.

Bobby tips his hat. “Enjoy the rest of your night.”

He ushers his date away to the far end of the bar, but she glances over her shoulder with an apologetic look.

I sit.

“Thanks, guys. Bobby is going to be… a challenge. I can stick up for myself, but I’ll have to figure out how to pick my battles with that one,” Molly says, her integrity intact.

Georgie is already tipsy from the one shot. “Just fire his ass. You can find someone else. He’s such a prick.”

Molly shakes her head. “Yeah. But he’s a prick who knows what he’s doing. And he does care about the horses. And even though he doesn’t respect me, he does respect Dash. So what if he doesn’t like me? We don’t have to be friends to work together.”

Logan pipes up. “Good attitude, Molly. Assholes are part of the territory in ranch life. Contrary to popular opinion, not all cowboys are gentlemen.”

I dart my eyes to my brother and Ashton who I know would have stood and thrown Bobby out by the scruff of his neck to back me and Molly up. Something about them being there for me, behind me like they did those times when we were kids, it’s… it’s a gesture that utters three words. Ones I expected my soul to say back in May when I returned, but it never did. She’s saying it now, though.

Welcome home, Jolie.

Chapter Five

I always did thinkJolie was cute when she’d stick up to anyone she thought was trying to double-cross her. Or even to us. She’d always stand up straight and tall and tighten her lips like she meant business. And I knew she always did. Sure, Joey had me and Lo behind her most of the time, just like now, and we would never let anything happen to her, but her feisty, scrappy nature was adorable back then.

And it’s downright sexy now. I should not be thinking about it, but goddamn it, I am.

The cowboy she’s up against, though he’s beena total dick to Molly, doesn’t have the posture of a man who’d go toe to toe with a woman, but I still make sure he knows I’m here. “Man, don’t make me stand up, too.”

The guy doesn’t overstay his welcome, and Jolie sits her feisty little butt back down. I’ve learned better than to let some small fry like him get me ruffled, but Jolie steams for another minute or two until she realizes Molly isn’t too bothered. I’m sure the cowboy’s comments did get to Molly, but she’s tempered. Mature. I’m impressed by her outlook because rising to every occasion like Jolie isn’t always the best thing for your mental health. Or physical health. I would know.

We end up changing the subject to horses, something all of us have in common. I can’t remember the last time I had something in common with every person out for a round of drinks. It’s a feeling of ease I haven’t felt for so damn long. For years, the only time I felt comfortable was playing hockey. The rest of the time in LA, it was as if my bones were made of glass and I had to tread carefully. Being back in the Canyon is the feeling of slipping on an old pair of well-worn boots and ambling like I don’t give a damn.

When I get to the bottom of my beer, I recognize the telltale body language of Logan considering a second drink. I know much as I could talk ponies all night, I need to get my teammate home. We’re the only ones on the team who live in Starlight Canyon, so it’s unlikely this would ever get out, but pissing Coach off isn’t worth the risk. I pat his shoulder. “Time to get home, bro?”

Logan pretends to read his fancy watch. “It’s not even ten like we agreed.”

I let my head flop into my palm.

Jolie says what I don’t. “Is that what your broken watch says? It’s not time to leave?”

“It’s not broken,” he protests with a shit-eating grin.

I glance up. “Time to go.”

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