Page 23 of A Cowboy's Twinkling Lights Lasso
No more sad me replaying the summer Thorn took my virginity, and I spent it thinking I was madly in love with him, only to find out he was sleeping with other girls. No more pity parties because I can’t seem to get him out of my head because no man has ever treated me like he did. And I’m finished thinking I’m still madly in love with him.
“I moved out of state for a career and a better life than here. Don’t mistake a summer fling with Thorn as anything but a fling.” I plan to remember these wise words and how quickly I made him hard before walking away.
“Oh.” She steps aside when I pull open the door.
“And I’m not going to dinner to rehash a fling that was no more than a fling.” I exit before she can stop me. I’m not avoiding Thorn. I’d prefer to live alone in the glory of my sweet revenge.
“Flora, you’re being unreasonable.” She chases me out, her perky excitement back ten times stronger.
Great.
“What’s going on?” Aunt Rita tilts back the wine bottle she’s pouring into her purse—what does she call it—her Sip N Stroll Purse.
Her eyes dart back and forth between me and my sister.
“According to Dani, Thorn is prime property, and I should buy all he offers. At least, according to Dani.” I grab a glass from the cupboard and tip it toward my aunt’s wine bottle.
“Don’t listen to this one.” My aunt isn’t frugal, and the lush red liquid reaches the edge of my glass. “She’s been spotted with the Quylt sisters.”
Dani groans. “Honestly, Aunt Rita. You’re either in or you’re out. You don’t get to play in the middle.”
“Spotted doing what?” My sentence ends in a gasp. I straighten so quickly the liquid sloshes over the brim of the cup. “Dani, you have not!”
Of all the things I considered when coming back to Rocky Ridge Creek, being in the center of a matchmaking scheme wasn’t one of them. And to have my sister involved, bleh.
“Don’t be wasteful.” My aunt sips my glass while she strategically mops the stone counter surface.
“I don’t know what any of you are talking about.” My sister spins and retreats to her room faster than she followed me out.
“Now I can’t believe a word you say about him!” I shout behind her. “The sisters blind you!”
She slams the door as her reply.
I move the cup away from my aunt. “Why would she help them to set me up with Thorn Slater?” I sip, enjoying the pear, apple, and honey notes. “She doesn’t even believe in marriage.”
“Sweetheart”—my aunt’s hand covers the one I’m resting flat on the counter—“to keep you here.”
She pats my hand before twisting a corkscrew into another bottle of wine.
“I’m not moving back to Rocky Ridge Creek. Especially not for some cowboy who can’t keep it in his pants.”
“Then I guess you better spend the week focused on not allowing him to steal your heart.” She glances up from filling the plastic lining in her purse. “As his intentions were made clear as a blue sky.”
I don’t tell her Thorn stole my heart a long time ago. Or how he broke it when I snuck to his dad’s ranch one night and watched him leave the barn shirtless to a bonfire party with a brunette wearing his Stetson—the Stetson he claims looks so good on me.
“I’ll spend the weekend focused on the calendar. Tonight, I’ll stay in and edit today’s photos to send them to the calendar designer, who will send them off to the printer so they’ll be ready on Sunday.” I gulp the rest of my drink and hold it out for a refill.
“Good choice.” My aunt beams with pride, tipping the bottleneck.
I didn’t say I was going to spend the evening sober. The liquid pours into the glass with a satisfying slosh.
Rita slides a gaze down my pajamas. “You can’t wear that to dinner.” Now, she sounds like my sister.
“I’m not going to dinner.”
The front door swings open, and giggles chuckles, and moans sweep inside. So does my married feisty aunt, in the arms of a cowboy I don’t recognize—and half her age.
“Hell, yes, that’s the spot.” Her squeal is deafening.
