Page 19 of Roped in Rawhide

I wag my finger. “No more groveling.”

He laughs. “According to you, I’ve barely begun.”

“I don’t want your groveling. It’s a wasted effort. Pluck one of those lucky ladies off the bench and make her dreams come true.”

When he swivels on his stool to address them, my foolish heart sinks. I want to smack myself. He’s not mine in the slightest and this is what he does.

“It’s not happening,” Chance tells them. “Tonight or any night. Spread the word. This man is taken. Gemma Keaton owns me.”

“Ohhhh, my gosh,” I mutter, burying my face in my hands. “I literally just told you not to make a public display. You’re such a pain in my ass.”

The cocky cowboy with entirely too much charisma winks at me. “At least you’re admitting I’m something to you. From where I’m sitting, that’s progress.”

Me: I remember when I was your first call when you needed a favor.

Me: You don’t even have to ask nicely.

Me: Feel free to use SHOUTY CAPS.

Me: Any response will do.

Me: How about an emoji? Is that too much?

Me: I’ll even accept the middle finger.

Me: Honestly, just give me any sign and I’ll do whatever you need.

But my phone remains silent.

The bell chimes to announce my return to Keaton’s General Store. Betty Lou quacks at me from her nest and blankets. I pause to give her a handful of feed, which I forgot on my way out before. The duck doesn’t hesitate to gobble up the snack.

“Such a forgiving girl,” I croon.

There’s already a smirk pulling at my lips when I glance at Gemma. She’s scowling at me from behind the counter. I saunter toward her and lean in until my leg bumps the racks holding entirely too many brands of gum.

“Are you jealous of the attention I’m giving another female?”

Gemma’s scoff ridicules me. “I didn’t realize we were telling jokes. You better run before pest control arrives. This bug problem just won’t quit.”

I chuckle at the fire sparking in her tone. She probably doesn’t know how much our banter means to me. It’s one of the things I missed the most.

“Why are you taking antibiotics?”

She stills as my question registers. “How do you know that I am?”

“Overheard you talking to Paisley.”

Her eyes widen. “You weren’t here for that conversation.”

“Sure was,” I correct. “You didn’t notice me behind the chip aisle, but I saw you ignoring my texts. Again. It’s one of the many blind spots in this place.”

That’s how I’ve managed to be near her more often than she’s probably comfortable with. Betty Lou was seconds away from ratting me out. The duck was giving me the stink eye, demanding I come clean to one of her favorite humans. We’ll address that eventually.

Gemma is still gawking at me. “You left and came back?”

I shake my head. “Answer me first.”

“Did you already forget about the chlamydia you infected me with? I shouldn’t be surprised. You probably had to contact dozens of women to warn them.”