Page 1 of Broken Trails
1
Simple Man – Lynyrd Skynyrd
My first rule of The Loose Lasso?
Dive headfirst into the madness or get out of the way.
The pub is alive tonight—beer-soaked air, rowdy laughter, the occasional crash of a pool cue hitting the floor. It’s chaos, yeah, but it’s my kind of chaos, where regrets are just tomorrow’s stories. I lean against the bar, nursing my pint as Harrison grins like he owns the place. His energy is infectious, even as Jono and Jack launch into their usual debate over who’s the real snooker champion. The clamour around us is almost loud enough to drown out the twang of some generic country song on the speakers, but not quite.
Harrison elbows me, snapping me out of my thoughts. “Oi, are you even awake, mate? You’ve been staring at your beer for ages.”
“Just pacing myself,” I reply, taking a sip. “Unlike you lot, I’ve got work tomorrow.”
“Oh, piss off. As do we, mate,” Jono calls over, grinning. “You’re as bad as Harrison these days. Might as well be married with a kid, too.”
Harrison laughs, lifting his beer. “That’s two kids now.”
Jack whistles. “Bloody hell. You’re multiplying like rabbits.”
A sheepish grin spreads across Harrison’s face. “Yeah. Imogen’s already on me about finding a bigger place.”
“You’ve been looking?” I ask.
“Yeah,” he says, turning to me. “Been checking out houses closer to town. Something with a backyard big enough for the kids and the dog to tear around. And with Hope growing by the minute, Immy’s not letting me rest until we’ve sorted it.”
“Makes sense,” I say, nodding. “What happens to your flat?”
Harrison claps me on the shoulder. “It’s all yours, mate. About time you got some space to yourself, yeah?”
“About time you stopped freeloading off Joe,” Jack quips, earning a laugh from the group.
Harrison grins. “Can’t say I’ll miss the late-night phone calls about your questionable dinner choices setting off the smoke alarm.”
“That was one time,” I retort, though the corner of my mouth twitches.
Harrison drains the last of his beer and sets the glass down with a thud. “Alright, lads, I’m calling it. My wife is waiting for me at home. Kids are down, which means, well…” He wiggles his eyebrows suggestively. The table erupts in laughter and catcalls.
“Get out of here, you lucky bastard,” Jono says, shaking his head.
I watch him leave, shaking my head. Smug bastard. But if anyone deserves all the happiness in the world, it’s Harrison. He’s carried more than his fair share of the weight, so seeing him finally have it all—a wife who can match his energy, two kids now who idolise him—it’s a bloody good thing.
“Oi, Michael,” Jack says, nudging me. “Your turn on the table.”
I roll my shoulders and step up, sinking the first shot easily. One round turns into another, and before I know it, the boys are ordering another round of drinks. By the time I’m halfway through my pint, a woman with dark brown hair and piercing blue eyes catches my attention from across the room. She’s leaning against the bar, a glass of red wine in her hand, wearing confidence like a second skin. Her dark hair falls in loose waves around her shoulders, and there’s a spark in her eyes that makes her stand out in the sea of Thursday night regulars.
“She’s been eyeing you all night.” Jono nudges me, again. “Go on, mate.”
“She’s out of your league,” Jack adds, with a smug grin.
“Good thing I’m not in a league, then.”
The boys laugh, and with their whistles and shouts egging me on, I make my way to the bar. She notices me immediately, her lips curling into a playful smile.
“You’ve been caught staring,” I say, leaning against the counter.
“You caught me? I think you’ve got it the wrong way around,” she fires back, her voice is feminine and smooth.
“Fair enough,” I reply, chuckling. “I’m Michael.”
