Page 81 of Then You Happened
To break whatever hold it is this pixie-sized woman with a heart ten times bigger seems to have on me.
“You should start taking pictures again. How you view the world through a lens is something you should share.”
“How would you know how I see the world?” she asks cautiously.
“I saw the article you wrote and the pictures that accompanied it. Your words were perfectly fine, but your photos . . . now those were phenomenal.”
I swear there are tears in her eyes, but she blinks them away before I can make sure. “Thank you, but . . .”
“And,” I say before bringing my beer to my lips, “you should do this more often.”
“What’s that? Bare my soul?” She laughs at her own joke but I know it’s just to deflect.
“Relax. Celebrate.” I shrug. “Smile.”
Her expression falls and eyes grow quiet. “I haven’t had a reason to.” The moment is suddenly heavier than either of us expected, and she scoots her chair back abruptly. “Bathroom. I need to go. I think I should. Yeah. I will.”
I nod because there’s that fluster again. There’s her wild that she doesn’t even understand she has.
And fuck if I know what to do with either of them.
The buzz of my phone has me pulling it from my pocket and sending the call to voice mail. I’ll call my sister later. When I look up, the two assholes from the other side of the bar are standing across the table from me.
They’re big boys—shoulders broad, arms crossed over their puffed up chests, and sneers on their faces. A couple of pissed off cowboys is not what I need right now.
“What can I do for you gentlemen?” I ask, my tone one of indifference.
“You having fun?” The dark haired one asks, his goatee barely moving when he speaks, and his eyes are shadowed by his cowboy hat.
I purse my lips and look around as if I’m assessing the bar. “Yeah. The place could use some better music and a few more choices in beer, but for the most part, it’ll do.” I offer a smile that says fuck you.
“And how about Tatum. Will she do, too?” The bald one says, confirming that their glares from across the room had something to do with the two of us.
“No complaints here.” I angle my head to the side, trying to figure out if these guys are here defending poor Jed or from Hickman Ranch. After the blow I landed on them yesterday with Steely suspending his contract, I’m not quite sure which one it would be. “And you are?”
“Concerned citizens.”
“Ah.” I draw the sound out. The Destin twins, then. “Thank you for your concern, but it isn’t needed.”
“How about you keep your nose out of her business.” Baldy’s smile is anything but sincere.
I lean back, cross my arms over my chest, and scrunch my nose. “If it’s her business, shouldn’t you do the same?”
“We look after our own here.”
My laugh is loud and draws attention of those around us, which is what I intended. “Your own? Seems to me you left Tatum on her own to fend for herself after her husband died. If you were looking out for her, why didn’t you lend a helping hand at the ranch? Why didn’t you step in and teach her what she needed to be doing to make sure she had enough foals to sell off come spring? I mean, those are all things someone would do if they were looking out for someone, right?” I prop my boots on the chair across from me as if their threat doesn’t bug me one bit. “But you weren’t looking out for her, were you? You’re just like every other asshole around here and would rather her lose everything . . . now, why exactly is that?”
“If she thinks things have been rough for her, she hasn’t seen anything yet. You should probably talk her into selling,” the dark-haired guy says, crossing his arms over his chest to mimic my posture, and probably to make sure I see the size of his biceps.
“And you should probably kiss my ass.”
I get the reaction I expect, which is clenching fists and testosterone flaring, and they bump into the chairs across from me to reinforce their bullshit threat. “Who the fuck do you think you are?” Goatee Man growls.
“More than you can handle.” I take my time unfolding my legs and standing to my full height, which puts us eye to eye and renders their attempt to threaten me by towering over me non-existent.
“It isn’t smart to test us,” Goatee Man says.
“I think you have this all backward,” I say, taking a step closer. “It’s you who shouldn’t be testing me.” I take a sip of my beer to draw out everyone’s attention, to make sure that the rest of the crowd who isn’t following the competition is
