Roped Tight (Ryker Ranch #4) - Kim Loraine Page 0,2
at me. “It’s your twenty-one run, Sammy. First shot’s on the house.”
“Tequila, Frankie,” Clint said.
She grinned and placed two shot glasses on the bar in front of us, filled them, and handed both of us a lemon wedge. Clint shook his head. “Beer chaser.”
“Happy birthday, Sam.” Frankie winked and moved on to other customers as Clint and I took up our shots.
The tequila burned all the way down into my belly, but soon I was just warm and relaxed. I leaned against the bar, watching Clint as he caught the eye of a pretty woman near the stage. “Go on,” I murmured, grabbing my beer and taking a swig. “I’m good. Go get yourself some company. You can take my buckle if you want.”
He laughed. “I don’t need your buckle to get a woman. I do just fine on my own. Not every girl wants a rodeo king.” He left me standing alone as he sauntered over to her.
An easy buzz hummed in my blood as the alcohol spread through my system. Everything took on a hazy glow, softened and heated. The sounds of people laughing mixed with the strain of the fiddle player’s solo, and before long, Clint was dancing with a girl, and—right on schedule—Trav was arguing with his wife.
Amusement curled my lips as I scanned the space. Cowboys looking for somewhere to put their boots for the night, women looking for trouble, and couples revisiting their youth. A pair of dark eyes made me stop my assessment of the bar. I knew that face. Tucker Weston, the newest ranch hand to join our crew, sat in the corner. He had his hat pulled low, hands wrapped around a beer bottle while a woman smiled and flirted with him. He’d been at the rodeo. I’d seen him roping; he was good, too.
I couldn’t look away from him as he shook his head. He must’ve turned her down because her shoulders slumped before she vacated the stool across from him. Why did that make me happy? I didn’t really know the guy. I shouldn’t have cared who he spent his time with. But…I sure as fuck did.
“Saw you on that bull, Sam. You really know how to ride.” The voice was sexy, sultry, and familiar. I turned my head to find Lyla Cameron standing next to me. Her long chocolate hair fell to her tits in shiny waves, and the blue of her shirt matched her irises perfectly. That was who Lyla was. Perfect on the outside. A mess inside.
“What do you want, Lyla?”
“Is it so wrong to want to talk to an old flame?”
Shaking my head, I brought my beer to my lips, muttering, “Flame isn’t what I’d call you.”
“All we have to do is strike a match and see where it goes.” She leaned close, running her hand over my chest. Her engagement ring glittered in the light. “Homecoming king and queen. We owe it to ourselves to see if the chemistry we have is worth exploring, Sam. I always wanted you, you know. I could have been yours if you’d have let me give you what you needed.”
I had to fight a shudder at the thought of letting her get her hooks in me. Back in high school, sure, we’d been the it couple. We’d fooled around, but I just wasn’t into her, not the way she wanted. Now? She was the last person I wanted touching me. Now that I’d started winning at the rodeo, it was amazing who came out of the woodwork looking for the popularity that came along with me. “You don’t have a damn thing I need, and by the looks of that rock on your finger, I don’t either.”
“I’m not married.”
“You’re not single either.” Catching her hand in mine, I moved her away from me. The last thing I needed was someone like her. “Find yourself another cowboy.”
She huffed and flipped her hair over one shoulder. “Maybe I will.” Then she stalked across the dance floor in search of someone who’d make a mistake with her. Whatever happened, that man wouldn’t be me.
I turned back to the bar and motioned for Frankie to bring me another. A shot, a beer, I didn’t care. She winked and brought me both. Bless her.
I downed my shot and fought a shudder, then chased it with a long gulp of beer. Fuck, I really didn’t like tequila. Out of the corner of my eye, I caught sight of a black shirt and dark, neatly