"I need a drink," she says, fanning herself with her hand as we make our way back to the table.
"Two drinks," I agree. "Maybe three."
Jake and Ashley are making conversation when we return, her earlier nervousness seeming to have melted away—at least with him. And I feel sort of sorry for the girl—she ain’t got a chance with Jake after the way he’s been watching Madison all night.
"I'll be right back," I tell Kinsley, squeezing her shoulder. I put an order in at the bar for some soda and head to the men's room. The hallway leading to the restrooms is quieter than the main bar. I'm almost to the door when I hear a familiar voice coming from the far end of the hall.
"Yes, I'm here with Wyatt," she's saying, and my blood runs cold. "He's such a good dancer."
I whip that direction and stare. Brittney’s got her phone pressed to her ear, talking loud enough to be heard over the music and facing the back wall. I should keep walking, pushthrough the door and mind my own business, but I heard my name, and I can't leave it alone.
"He's so handsome in his blue pearl snap shirt—I just love him so much."
I glance down at my shirt and curse under my breath. Sheistalking about me. I check behind me to make sure no one's watching, then step closer to the wall.
"I'm not drinking," Brittney continues, and I can hear the tears in her voice now. "He's being a perfect gentleman. We're having a great time. I just don't think he will ever want to settle down—you know how roughies are."
She's wiping at her eyes with her free hand.
Is she mental? She's creating an entire relationship out of thin air. I should leave, pretend I never heard any of this. But I'm frozen in place, trying to process what I'm witnessing.
She looks up at the ceiling as she half spins, and I press myself against the wall, hoping the shadows hide me.
"I know you have it handled," she says into the phone, her voice breaking slightly. "I believe you. Okay, I'll have a good time tonight. I promise. Love you, Daddy."
She ends the call and stands there for a moment, composing herself.
I push into the men's room, my heart hammering against my ribs like a spooked horse trying to kick its way out of a stall.
The conversation keeps playing in my head.I know you have it handled.Handled what? And why is she lying to her father about being here with me when I made it clear I'm with Kinsley?
I shudder to think what her daddy must be like if she's that desperate to please him.
I suck in air. It's not my problem.
I've got enough complications in my life without adding whatever drama Brittney's carrying around. My attention needs to stay on the woman waiting for me back at that table. I dry my hands and straighten my shirt. Whatever game she's playing with her father, whatever pressure she's under, it's got nothing to do with me.
Time to get back to my woman.
Twenty-Three
MUST BE NICE TO HAVE PEOPLE YOU CAN COUNT ON.
KINSLEY
Monday morning arrives and I feel like the weekend in Jackson Hole with Wyatt was a dream.
A fantastic dream.
I’m so grateful that he’s home for a couple of days before he has to hit the road because I’m not quite ready to say goodbye.
I walk up the stairs to the main house and push through the door. Sarah’s expecting me and her text said to come right in. She’s at the table already deep in strategy mode, her coffee growing cold beside a stack of federal documents thick enough to choke a horse.
Kit’s in the kitchen filling up a water bottle. “I’ll be riding at Hank’s after school today, so I won’t be home until dark.”
I wave at her and she smiles. She crosses to her mom and kisses her on the head. “Bye.”
“I’ll put your dinner in the fridge.” Sarah watches her grab her backpack and leave.