Page 101 of My Cowboy Trouble
It doesn't make it okay that we started this by betting on her failure.
And now, she's never going to forgive us. The humiliation and disrespect are too much for her, or anyone, to swallow. Because Kenzie Rhodes doesn't give second chances to people who make her feel like a fool. And that's exactly what we did.
I findTrent and Asher in the equipment shed, supposedly working on the tractor but really just standing around looking as miserable as I feel. The air is thick with tension and unspoken blame, and I know before anyone says a word that this conversation is going to get ugly. Fast.
"How'd it go?" Asher asks, though one look at my face probably tells him everything he needs to know.
"About as well as you'd expect." I lean against theworkbench, my knuckles still bleeding from where I punched the stall door. "She won't listen. She's done."
"Maybe if you'd kept your mouth shut about that goddamn bet in the first place?—"
"Don't." Trent's voice cuts through Asher's words like a blade. "Don't start."
"Why not?" Asher throws down the wrench he's been holding, the sound echoing off the metal walls. "This is Gavin's fault. If he hadn't made that stupid bet?—"
"We all made that stupid bet," I snap. "Every one of us. Don't try to rewrite history now that it's blown up in our faces."
"You're the one who suggested it. You're the one who thought it would be fun to wager on whether the city girl would break."
"And you're the one who took the bet!" I push off from the workbench, anger flooding through me. Because Asher's right, and that makes it worse. "You and Trent both. So don't stand there acting like you're innocent in this. You both thought it was funny too. Watch the city girl fall on her pretty ass. Like we were so much better than her."
"At least I didn't go around bragging about it to half the town."
"I never bragged about anything."
"Really? Because Clara Mae seemed to know an awful lot of details about our 'arrangement.' Where do you think she got that information?"
The accusation hits like a physical blow, and I realize he's right. Clara Mae didn't just know about the bet—she knew specifics. Details that could have only come from one of us. And knowing my big mouth...
"Fuck," I breathe.
"Yeah, fuck." Asher starts pacing, that restless energy that means he's about to do something stupid. "You couldn't just keep it between us, could you? Had to go running your mouth at the bar, probably bought everybody a round to celebrate how clever you were."
"It wasn't like that?—"
"Wasn't it? Because that's sure as hell what it sounds like to Kenzie. That's what Clara Mae made it sound like. That we were all sitting around laughing at her behind her back."
"We weren't!"
"Weren't we?" This from Trent, his voice quiet but deadly. "Because I remember you making jokes about her designer boots. I remember you calling her 'princess' like it was an insult. I remember all of us thinking she was a big joke."
The silence that follows is deafening, because he's right. We were laughing at her. Maybe not maliciously, but we were definitely treating her like entertainment rather than a person. And the fact that our feelings changed doesn't erase that.
"So what do we do?" I ask finally.
"We?" Asher laughs, but there's no humor in it. "There is no 'we' anymore, Gavin. You made sure of that when you shot your mouth off to Clara Mae."
"I didn't tell Clara Mae anything directly?—"
"But you told someone. Someone who told someone else, who told Clara Mae. And now the whole town thinks we were running some kind of elaborate con on Kenzie."
"Maybe because we were," Trent says quietly, and both Asher and I turn to stare at him.
"What the hell is that supposed to mean?" I demand.
"It means maybe Clara Mae's right. Maybe we were just using her for our own entertainment. Maybe the bet was just the beginning, and everything that came after was just... an extension of that."
"You don't believe that."
