Page 23 of The Cowboy Complication

Isla rolled her eyes on a sigh. “The Bridge Bitches.” She wrinkled her nose. “I’m a little nervous because I’ll be driving Gertrude’s Jeep and I know it’s going to be way different from your truck.”

Finding out who she’d be with didn’t make him feel any better. Actually, it made him feel a little worse. “Why are you driving?”

“Because they asked me to go out with them to The Creekery, but none of them feel comfortable driving after dark.” She chewed her lower lip. “So I guess I’ll be the one doing the driving.”

He wanted to shut it down, but technically the whole thing was legal. Unfortunately. As long as the person in the passenger’s seat was over twenty-one and had a license, they were well within the constraints of the law. So he couldn’t do shit to stop it.

Not that the driving was the part he wanted to stop.

“Have you been to The Creekery before?”

“No.” Isla scrunched her face up. “I’ve actually never gone out with friends like this before.” She pursed her lips, twisting them to the side the way she did when she couldn’t decide whether or not to admit any more. “It’s kind of sad, I know, but better late than never, I guess.”

He didn’t like the idea of Isla being in the meat market that was The Creekery, but he fucking hated her thinking she’d failed in any capacity. “Not everyone is the going out type. There’s nothing wrong with being the kind of person who’d rather stay in.”

He would love it if she’d be the kind of person who stayed in. Specifically tomorrow. And maybe for the next few weeks. Just until the bulk of the temporary ranch hands had cleared out for the season. They weren’t known for being good guys, and their fly-by-night nature meant they’d pack up and leave without a second thought. They came to Moss Creek to get what they wanted—the paycheck that came with seasonal help, and as much tail as they could manage—then they were gone without so much as a ‘thanks for the ride’.

And if one of them pulled that shit with Isla?—

Isla tilted her head to one side, her eyes moving away. “I don’t really know if I’m the going out type or not, but I think I’d like to find out.”

Well. Shit.

“Then that’s what you should do.” He meant it.

Deep down, he meant it. Superficially, though, it made him want to peel his skin off thinking about those asshats at The Creekery coming at her from every side.

It would be too much for her. Isla got overwhelmed without a plan of action—he’d figured that out their first day driving. She liked knowing what was happening and how to navigate it. Hell, the woman had a whole schedule for all the things she did at Grady and Evelyn’s that she stuck to like law. Going out with the Bridge Bitches was a complete unknown, so hearing Isla be so committed to it meant she really did want to go. And he wanted her to have what she wanted. He just also wanted her to be safe and happy and comfortable while she got it.

And he was going to make sure that’s what happened. Because he was her friend. Because Isla was his. And because he’d be damned if he let anyone hurt her ever again.

“So.” He tried—and failed—to simply sound interested instead of like he was hatching a plan. “What time are you and the girls heading out?”

9

Isla

THE CREEKERY WAS beyond packed. Way more crowded than she expected it to be. Even on a Friday night.

Cowboys of all ages were packed into every corner, trolling for pretty girls to sweet talk into taking them home. It was nearly impossible to take a step without running into a hard chest, a solid shoulder, or a scuffed pair of boots.

Too bad none of them appealed to her. Not that it mattered anyway since she didn’t seem to appeal to them either.

Her time with Cooper had started to make her feel like she wasn’t as undesireable as her ex had claimed. But sitting there, not a single set of eyes even drifting her way, it was easy to fall back into the funk Eric’s rejection had sunk her into. Easy to let him start to taint her life—and her confidence—all over again.

“What’s wrong, honey?” Gertrude leaned close, giving Isla’s thigh a pat. “I recognize that look on your face. Is there some man we need to hunt down and roll up in a rug?”

The offer was tempting, but distance made considering it pointless. Her first ever friend group wasn’t exactly cross-country murder plot material. Now, if she wanted someone within reach assaulted with a cane, they were for sure up to the task.

Plus, being completely honest with herself, she didn’t care enough about Eric’s continued existence to put the effort into making him disappear. Would it possibly save another woman from the same fate she suffered? Maybe.

But it’s also possible common sense would do the same thing.

That’s what had worked against her. She’d started dating him when she was too young to see a guy like him coming. Too innocent and too immature to expect things to go the way they did. And—again being honest with herself—Eric hadn’t always been the arrogant twerp he turned into. He’d been just as young and clueless as she was when they first got together.

At what point things changed was anyone’s guess, but it no longer mattered the way it once did. She had more important things to worry about.

Like how the heck long these women were going to expect her to stay awake.

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