Page 5 of Bronco

I scoff. “Right. I’ll believe that when I see it. If you’re so good at match-makin’, then why haven’t you found your own Prince Charming?”

She starts putting the bottles into the cooler, her back to me. “Well, maybe I just have to kiss a lot of frogs before I find my happily ever after.”

Something in her words sounds sad; like she truly believes it and it isn’t just a joke anymore.

“Let’s make a deal,” I say, leaning over the bar toward her. “If your date doesn’t work out, and all of your friends are too prim and proper?—”

“Hey! They’re not prim and proper!”

“—then I think I should stand in and be your date, you know, like a worst-case scenario.”

She stops what she’s doing and turns. “Bronco, get outta here.”

“What? I’m serious. It’s like those pacts you make when you’re twelve with your best friend and one of you is moving away. If we’re not married by the time we’re forty, we’ll meet again and get hitched because we’re the only single people left,” I laugh. “Not that I’m suggestin’ we get hitched.”

“You know you’re only making me more determined to make Ben and me work, right?”

I fucking hope not.I grit my teeth and smile. “I still think he sounds like he’s a history teacher.”

“So he’ll be smart.”

“Smart enough to stay out of your panties, if he knows what’s good for him.”

She puts her hands on her hips. “Thanks for the pep talk,babe.”

I wink. “Anytime. My door is always open.”

She shakes her head. “We don’t have a pact.”

“Oh yes we do. You might not agree with it, but I’d be bettin’ you’d have more fun on a date with me thanBenjamin.”

“You really do keep me amused,” she jokes. “I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

I really fucking hope to keep it that way.

2

AMBER

Four months ago

The rescue

I checkthe time on my watch.Goddamn it.The guy I was supposed to meet is late and this isn’t exactly the kind of bar where you’re going to potentially meet the love of your life. I could be wrong, but Skinny Dick’s Saloon isn’t ringing my bells.

This is exactly what you get when you don’t plan ahead. I need to stay off dating apps, and I have successfully for a while now, but I got curious. I haven’t had a date in a long time and frankly, I’m in the mood. I just didn’t plan on having to wade through a bar with women barely dressed, handing out drinks on silver trays to creepy looking men who make the biker bars I’m used to look like Disneyland. I cringe. I don’t know what the hell possessed me to not look this place up before I accepted a drink invitation, but this is not looking good.

I need to get the fuck out of here because I’ll probably catch hepatitis just from drinking out of a glass.

I glance around, unable to see my way through the crowd gathering, the loud music practically rattling my bones.This is why you should stay home, it’s safer that way.

Stupid me for thinking that this could be a good idea. In a city like New Orleans with over 350,000 people, you’d think I’d be able to have one decent date. Over the years I’ve been single, it’s only gotten worse. Coming out of a bad relationship three years ago, I swore I’d never get into anything heavy again. Heavy, to me, is scary. It makes me want to run, and running is something I told myself I’d stop doing once I left the compound.

My husband wasn’t a good man, and it didn’t take long to realize that once he had me in his sights, I was destined to be doomed. My family wasn't overly religious until my older brother, Steven, became my guardian after Mom died, and then our dad split. Dad was a drunk, as well as a good-for-nothing. After our family dynamic changed, Steven became involved with a church and as I was only fourteen at the time, I had no choice but to go with him. At twenty-two, he was an adult and like I say, he was now my legal guardian. I was already mourning the loss of my mom, and dealing with our dad leaving, too. I trusted Steven, and to be fair, I really don’t think he knew what he was getting himself into until it was too late.

I steel myself. Now isn’t the time to think about any ofthat. It’s in the past. I’ve moved on.

It’s been three years and I deserve a night out. I’m clearly just not looking in all the right places. Being new in town, I’m not familiar with any of the bars or clubs or wherever it is you go to meet people these days. I make my way through the crowd when I feel a hand at my elbow.

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