Page 9 of Ride or Die

Bailey gasps, holding a hand to her chest. “Is the calf okay?”

I nod. “Safe and suckling on its mama’s teat when I left.”

“Oh, thank goodness,” she says with a relieved sigh, snaking her arm around my waist. We walk across the street, headingfor Pip’s diner, its pink neon lights lit up like a Christmas tree against the muted dusk sky.

Pip’s with Bailey Lester is my Wednesday night ritual and has been for years.

Bailey grew up in the double-wide trailer next to me. We used to sneak through one another’s windows on the bad nights, depending on whose daddy had had the most to drink.

Our Wednesday nights stopped when Bailey and Jax, one of my oldest friends, started going together. Bailey and me have never been anything more than friends—hell, she’s like a damn sister to me—but I didn’t want Jax to think I was steppin’ on his toes, so I backed off. After a while, Wednesday nights started back up at Pip’s, only then it was three of us; Bailey, Jax, and me as the third wheel. But then the war broke out on the other side of the world, and Jax, the dumb son of bitch, enlisted his sorry ass.

A few months ago, Bailey got a knock on her door late one night that changed everything. Now, Wednesdays at Pip’s is just the two of us again. Bailey and me, and that persistent ache of loss I don’t think either of us will ever fully come to terms with.

“So, you gonna tell me how it went today, or was you hopin’ I forgot?”

Shoving my hands into the pockets of my jeans, I grit my teeth, trying so hard to play it cool when I feel her brown eyes slide to me. It was Bailey who not only scheduled the appointment for me at the hospital today, but made me go when she turned on the waterworks and cried on my shoulder, telling me she couldn’t dare lose me too. She was there to watch my fall last week in Lubbock. She was also unfortunately there when I collapsed afterwards right outside my trailer. When she made the appointment at the hospital, she knew I’d say no way in hell, so she outright blackmailed me. Either I get my ass to the appointment, or she tells Austin which would in effectjeopardize not only my riding contract, but my job on the ranch. Austin is the Shaw’s eldest son and, after Phil’s sudden and unexpected passing last year, ranch manager; and he is not one to mess with. So, of course, I couldn’t say no.

“All clear like I knew I would be,” I lie, ignoring the nagging pinch at the back of my neck while doing my best to force a smile.

Bailey’s forehead puckers with a wrinkle of doubt. “Don’t you dare lie to me, Cole Dawson.”

I hold a hand up. “I swear to God.”

She guffaws, smacking a hand against my chest. “Boy, you ain’t stepped foot in church on Sunday since we was kids.”

“I wouldn’t lie to you, Bailey Bay,” I say honestly, crossing my fingers deep in my pocket and saying a silent prayer to Jax to forgive my lyin’ ass. “Just a nasty knock to the head.” I shrug a shoulder. “Ain’t nothin’ to worry about.”

Bailey’s eyes narrow as they search mine. I hold her shrewd gaze.

“Well, good.” She links her arm through mine. “Because lord knows I can’t lose you too.”

My heart sinks into the pit of my ass with the heavy weight of guilt, but I keep my chin held high, opening the door to Pip’s and allowing Bailey to walk in first.

The place is busy with its usual mid-week crowd, but our booth in the far corner is free, as it always is at this time on a Wednesday.

“Pip.” I wave a hand at Pippa, the owner of this place, and an institution around Summer. Pip used to feed me after my mama died. I’d stop by this place every night after close, and she’d have all the leftovers wrapped up in tinfoil, ready for me to take home to my empty trailer.

“Take a seat, kids,” she calls back in her trademark smoky tone, topping off a coffee cup. “I’ll be right over.”

“Take your time, Pip.” Bailey flashes the woman her megawatt smile before sliding into the booth.

I remove my wallet and my phone from my back pocket, releasing a heavy sigh as I take a seat, but the second I look across and meet Bailey’s dubious gaze, my hackles are officially up. Does she not believe me? She gonna ask for me some sort of clearance from the doc? Can she? Fuck, I don’t even know.

“So,” she starts, eyebrows dancing, “I heard a rumor about you.”

I breathe a sigh of relief, because a small-town rumor I can handle. “Oh yeah, what now?”

“I heard you played the hero today at the Stop and Shop for a pretty outta towner who couldn’t pay for her groceries.” She flicks her long auburn hair over her shoulder, offering me a smug smirk.

My head falls back on a groan.

“Who is she?” Bailey presses, suddenly all excited, practically bouncing in her seat.

“Hell, I don’t know.” I throw my hands in the air. “She looked like she was in trouble so I helped out. No big deal.” Another lie. I haven’t been able to stop thinking about that woman all damn day.

Christ, I’ve never lied to Bailey Bay in my life. What the hell am I doing?

Avoiding her eyes, I grab one of the menus that sits between the ketchup and mustard bottles despite ordering the same exact thing every Wednesday for the last almost ten years of my life.