Page 31 of Ride the Sky

The second I get a lock on her, tunnel vision takes over.

Fallon.

As local as local can be the way she confidently weaves through the crowd, nodding, stopping every so often for a conversation or a handshake.

Neon lights catching the silver scar on her jaw, she glances over her shoulder. Thefuck offglare she sends me has me going rock hard in a matter of seconds.

Christ.

She’s the world’s biggest menace with that kind of crippling beauty.

She looks tan and tough in her stonewashed old school Wranglers and tiny white tank top. Her caramel hair’s in a thick fishtail braid that hangs over her shoulder. Bright, bold ink, swirls of cowgirls and flowers blend together on her bare, tan arms. Adding to the gut punch of it all, the dusky red lipstick from her photo shoot still stains her pillowy lips, making her look like some fierce bloodsucking cowgirl. Her body isn’t just muscle. It’s cut.

Sure, she looks good. But does the outside match the inside? If she excels at one thing, it’s brick-walling her emotions.

I watch, mesmerized, as Fallon sharks her way across the bar. A cross between a knife and a woman, that’s Fallon McGraw. Sharp, angular, violent. She stands at the bar, shouting orders at the bartender.

“How’s your girl lookin’?”

I snap my head to Ford, wanting to punch that smug smile off his face. “Ain’t my girl.”

Ruby giggles.

Returning with a bucket of beer and a bottle of whiskey, Fallon deposits the goods then pulls out a chair at the opposite end of the table next to Dakota. I bring a beer to my lips and chuckle darkly. The distance she keeps between us is fuckin’ unreal.

My fault. I came in hot seeing her on that ranch today. Not how I wanted our first meeting in almost a year to go. But the second I laid eyes on her, bitterness welled up. Anger over her leaving. Relief at seeing that she was okay. The clusterfuck of emotions meant I came out swinging.

And so did she.

Fallon exhales like she’s breathing fire. “C’mon. Gossip. What’s new in the shithole that is Resurrection?”

Dakota brightens. “Guess who’s dating?”

Ford snickers.

Dakota drum-rolls the table then says, “Sheena and Beef.”

“Oh my god.” Fallon laughs. “I don’t fucking believe it. Beef and Sheena?” Her nose wrinkles. “Christ. The apocalypse must be happening in real-time.”

“It’s true love,” Ruby announces. “I’ve seen it.” Beaming, she turns to Charlie, tugs on his arm. “It has to be the flower shop.”

“You opened it?” For a brief second, Fallon looks crestfallen, then she quickly recovers, hardening her face into a skilled look of uncaring.

“Not yet,” Charlie wraps an arm around Ruby. “We’re starting construction in the fall when the ranch is closed.”

“You ready for the rodeo tomorrow?” Davis asks Fallon.

I down my beer in three quick gulps. Rove an eye around the bar. “This ain’t a rodeo, it’s a circus.”

“Not like I ever want to agree with Wyatt,” Ford says, “but yeah, it feels a little too reality show to me.”

“They didn’t ask you buffoons,” Fallon shoots back. She pivots to Davis and Dakota. “I’m ready as I’ll ever be.”

The sisters exchange quick grins.

My teeth grit in distaste at the sight of Fallon’s entourage. Pappy Starr and Tripp Hendrix talk in a dimly lit corner. Tripp’s a skinny cowboy from Resurrection who follows Fallon everywhere. He’s a puppy I’d like to send back to the pound.

“You need all that?” I ask, jerking my chin. “Groupies?”

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