Page 29 of Swift and Saddled

I faced Amos again. He looked amused, but all he said was “I’ll make you a plate.” I responded with a look that I hoped he interpreted as grateful.

At that moment, I heard the front door open, and two voices carried through to the kitchen.

“I told you”—it was a man’s voice, and it sounded weirdly familiar—“I would rather buy you a new truck than try to fix that ugly blue monster.”

“Me and the truck are a package deal.” A woman’s voice now. “If she goes, I go.” Two people appeared in the kitchen. The man I immediately recognized as the bartender—Brooks—which meant the brunette next to him was Weston’s sister, Emmy.

Emmy was tall—probably a couple of inches taller than me. Her long brown hair was wild and windswept, like she’d ridden a horse here and let her hair fly behind her. Everything about her just looked so…free.

I’d felt locked in a cage of my own making my entire life. One look at this woman and the first thing I felt was envy.

“Hey, Spud,” Amos called. “Luke, good morning.” Emmy blew her dad a kiss and Brooks gave him a nod before turning back to Emmy.

“Fine,” Brooks said. His eyes were on Emmy in a way that made me feel like I was intruding on something, even though they were the newcomers in the kitchen. “But you owe me, sugar.”

Emmy’s face lit up even more, and Brooks slung an arm around her shoulders, pulling her toward him so he could give her a quick kiss on the temple. As he did it, Emmy’s eyes scanned the kitchen and landed on me.

She shirked out of Brooks’s hold—he looked thoroughly disappointed at the loss—and stuck her hand out to me. “Hi,” she said. “You must be Ada. I’m Emmy.”

Brooks looked at me then, and his mouth stretched into a knowing smile. “Well, well, well,” he said. “If it isn’t the girl who ran out on her tab.”

Emmy looked back at Brooks, confused, and then back at me. She studied me for a second, and I saw a light flash behind her eyes. “Wait,you’rethe girl who was making out with my brother at the bar?”

I’d never wished I was a hermit crab before, but there’s a first time for everything. In that moment, I would have given anything to have a shell to retreat into.

Amos coughed behind me, and lighting myself on fire would probably have been more enjoyable than this moment.

“Sorry,” Emmy said quickly. “I didn’t know the mystery girl in the bar and the interior designer were the same person.” The words were falling out of her mouth now.

“Me either,” Brooks said, smirking.

“Shutup,Luke.” Emmy shushed him. “I’m really sorry,” she said, turning back to me. “Sometimes my brain doesn’t move as fast as my mouth.”

“It’s okay,” I said, even though all I wanted was to get out of there. Brooks was still smirking. “I’ll pay the tab,” I said to him, annoyed.

“No need.” Brooks shook his head. “Wes covered it after you broke the world speed record for running out of the Devil’s Boot.”

Of course he had. Wes was Wyoming’s Dudley Do-Right.

Emmy elbowed Brooks in the ribs, but he was unfazed. He just pulled her back to his chest and wrapped his arms around her. She resisted for half a second before melting back into him—as though in his arms was the only place she wanted to be.

Brooks kissed Emmy’s head again.

I thought about what Wes had said—that when I met them, I’d get it.

I got it.

I’ve never felt like a very likable person. My ex confirmed that suspicion, especially at the end. For the most part, it didn’t bother me. But looking at Brooks and Emmy, I felt a pang in my chest, and for the first time in a long time, I wondered what it might be like to be not just liked but loved.

I shook my head. That was too much for me to think about at seven-thirty on a Sunday morning.

The sound of a plate being pushed across the counter caught my attention—I turned back to Amos, who was giving me an apologetic but also vaguely knowing look. It was the same look he’d given me after Weston returned my tote bag on my first day at Rebel Blue.

The plate he’d built for me was more of a platter—stacked high with bacon, eggs, broiled tomatoes, two kinds of toast, hash browns, and what I assumed was a banana nut muffin. I’d eaten a few of these muffins since I’d been here—they were always in the pantry.

“Wait, are you not eating with us?” Emmy said. She sounded genuinely disappointed.

“It’s her day off, Spud,” Amos jumped in. “Let her have it.”

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