Page 77 of Then You Happened
“I understand. I’ll be ready for it.”
“Good. But you’re going to have to do the one thing you aren’t too fond of.”
“What’s that?”
“Open your ranch up to the Steelys. They’re going to want to inspect it. They’re going to want to see if it’s suitable for them to come and bring their studs during the month to be on standby for when the mares are ready. You’re going to have to let them in when you normally shut everyone out.”
I chew my lip and stare at him because that doesn’t sound like the protocol I remember Fletcher following. Studs don’t travel to mares, the mares travel to them, which is a big reason I have been so concerned about the cost.
“How did you finagle this?”
“Because I’m that good.” He flashes me a grin that could melt my panties right off, but I have a feeling it’s to distract me. I sense that Jack Sutton might have a little more clout and power than he says he does.
That begs the question, just who is he?
“Jack. This isn’t normal. I don’t understand why a big customer like Steely would take these measures when they are the ones in control.”
He leans over and gets close enough that I can smell the shampoo in his hair and see the flecks of gold in his irises. “Because I can sell anything when I believe in it .
. . and I believe in you.”
My sigh fills the cab of the truck because, as much as that’s a believable response, it still doesn’t answer my question.
“Enough of this. C’mon.” He slides out of the truck without giving me a chance to respond, and I follow suit before he can come around to open the door for me.
“What are we doing?”
“Taking a time out.”
“A time out?” I ask.
“You have to celebrate even the small victories when they come, Knox.” He places his hand on the small of my back and directs me to the front of the shopping center. “And we just got a small victory.”
I let him lead me around the corner to where the old diner with crappy food and even worse service is, and I almost pull him to a stop and tell him that I refuse to eat there, but then I freeze. The diner is gone. In its place is what looks like a bar with a marquis that reads Axe’s with a three-dimensional axe as the apostrophe on the sign.
“It’s the new hot spot—if there is such a thing in this town.” He winks and ushers me to the door. “Work hard, play hard, right?”
“I have a million things to do at the ranch—”
“Stop thinking about work,” he says with another smile and another tug on my hand. “Just humor me.”
Next time.
It reminds me that I need to stop. That I need to make this the start of all of my next times.
It’s hard to think of this simple moment in time with Jack as a new beginning, as a the first step toward my next time—especially because nothing long-term is going to happen between Jack and me—but I have to start somewhere. I have to at least try.
“Fine.”
“Fine?” He raises his eyebrows and knocks me over with a shy grin that gives me pause.
“Yes. Okay.”
The whoop he rewards me with makes me laugh as he steps to open the front door for me.
The bar’s decor is industrial ranch house with iron pipes and dark wood. The bar is on one side and there are designated throwing alleys on the opposite side of it. It’s busier than I expected for a mid-afternoon, and a few Lone Star residents who are seated at tables glance our way when we enter. I exhale a breath when they turn back to their business instead of staring at us.
Within minutes, Jack has us on an open throwing lane.
