Page 14 of Roping My Rival

Country music plays, and when I survey the room, people are arranging on the stage for live music. Small groups sit at tables or lean at higher tables while stools along the bar remain mostly empty. I’ll just have a drink, get all my self-deprecating thoughts out, and call my brother to apologize.

Then I’ll go home alone and be back to normal in the morning. All these weird feelings will get pushed aside again, and I’ll be myself. I’m a seasoned veteran with this routine.

“You want to start a tab?” The bartender asks when he sets my drink down.

“No, I’ll pay as I go, if you don’t mind.” He nods and takes the bill I hand him. I don’t want to be waiting for a tab to settle when I finally shake this mood.

My gaze turns to the dance floor and the clusters of people. A man who gave me his number once nods when our eyes meet, and I look away quickly. I should just drink this, grab a bag of cheesies at the corner gas and go home. Why I constantly come here hoping for something else is yet another issue I should examine when I’m brave enough.

Today isn’t the day, though.

A body sits next to me, and a deep voice I recognize from the past orders a glass of draft. My heart slams against my ribs. It can’t be him.

Turning slightly, the sharp jaw and dark, messy hair register, but when he turns his head and those ocean-blue eyes land on me, it’s confirmed.

“What rock did you crawl out from?” I spit, and he raises an eyebrow.

“Wow. Nice to see you too…Burke.”

When I don’t reply, he takes a moment to drink from his glass. His tongue licks the foam from his top lip, and a distinct heat kicks up in my gut.

“Wish I could say the same…Walker.”

He laughs and swivels on his stool to face me, but I stare straight ahead.

“The amazing Warren Burke, sitting alone in a bar. If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you’re here looking for a good time.” He leans in closer, and I smell the beer on his breath. “If you want, I can reel in two and give you one. You know, my second choice since you like being second.”

“Fuck you, Walker.”

I slam the rest of my drink and leave the glass on the bar.

“Leaving so soon? But I just got here.”

“I’m not feeling well. Must be something in the air.”

I stalk out of the bar, far too pissed off to process seeing him again. Dane Walker is an asshole, and I certainly hope he’s not here to get back on the circuit. I might retire if I have to deal with his bullshit again.

No, I won’t admit there was a part of me that looked forward to seeing his name on the program at rodeos. Or that there’s more than just rage at seeing him again.

Slamming my truck door closed, I start the engine to have an immediate warning message on my dash that I have a tire with low air. Fuming, I stalk around to the passenger side, and it’s not just low. It’s flatter than a squirrel on the highway who couldn’t make a decision.

“Motherfucker,” I mutter. I should have just stayed home.

After dragging out the wrench, jack, and spare tire, I lower myself to the ground. It’s just one more thing on this otherwise shitty day. It’s too much, and while I can change a tire, I simply don’t have it in me.

The lug wrench slips from my hands and I hang my head. Feet crunch on the gravel lot, and that voice again breaks the stillness of the night.

“Bad place to find you on your knees, Burke.”

“Leave me alone, Walker.”

Of course, he comes closer, and his boots are now in my vision. He says nothing. Instead, he simply lifts the lug wrench and loosens the nuts before shoving the jack under my truck and raising it.

“You don’t have to do this,” I finally manage. “I don’t need your help.”

He continues like he didn’t hear me and lets the bolts drop to the ground while he muscles off my flat tire. “You’re right,” he grunts as the tire comes off and he hefts it into the bed of my truck. “I don’t need to.” He slides the spare on and replaces the bolts. I watch his fingers as he threads the bolts on, fascinated that someone I hate can be so good at everything. Even replacing my tire bolts looks smooth and easy.

And I let him just muscle his way into helping me. I’m sitting on my ass in the parking lot watching him.