Page 25 of Wrangling Hearts
“Go talk to her,” she insisted.
I blinked quickly, remembering who and where I was, and played dumb. “Who?”
“Oh, please,” Weston snorted. “We all just saw that.”
Heat crept up my neck. “Saw what?”
“You drooling over Claire Hayes.”
“I’m notdroolingover Claire,” I snapped. I couldn’t. She was my competition. Our families had been at each other's throats for decades. I shouldn’t have even noticed her, but it was impossible not to.
“Well, if you don’t go over there, I will. I’m not dumb enough to pass up an opportunity when I see one.”
“Be my guest,” I said, like I didn’t care. Because I didn’t.
As he walked away, I caught the crook of his elbow and wordlessly took the flask out of his pocket, ignoring his smug grin and Anna’s snicker next to me.
I looked at the group. “What? He won’t need it while dancing.”
“Uh-huh,” Anna and Brittany said in unison with matching knowing looks.
We all watched as Weston approached Claire, who I just now noticed was standing with Emmett and Delilah. The trio stopped talking abruptly when Weston came up next to them. Claire and Delilah couldn’t mask their shocked expressions, considering they probably hadn’t spoken to him in nearly twenty years. But Weston was never one to shy away from a woman. Especially not one as gorgeous as Claire looked tonight.
No,I scolded myself,not gorgeous. She’s the enemy.
That didn’t seem to stop my stomach from twisting to the point of pain when she looked at me over his shoulder before meeting his gaze again. There was something in her eyes I couldn’t decipher, something that looked a lot like questioning why I wasn’t there instead. But that was probably the whiskey talking.
Please say no,I thought when Weston gestured to the other couples dancing. I knew I couldn’t dance with Claire; she was my competition for Cavendish. But that didn’t necessarily mean I wanted to watch her dance with someone else, even if he was basically my brother.
“Wasn’t expecting that,” Colt murmured behind me when Claire placed her hand in Weston’s and he pulled her onto the dance floor.
A burning sensation started in the center of my chest when his hand settled low on her back, and spread outwards through the rest of my body when she smiled at something he said. I turned around and got another lemonade, chugged half of it, and filled the other half with whiskey.
“Where’s Henry?” I asked Anna, my voice gruff.
She looked around for a minute. “Over playing corn hole with Jo. Tell him he still owes me a hot dog.”
I nodded and bolted in that direction, keeping my back to the dance floor. When Henry saw me approaching, he grinned, his smile covered in chocolate ice cream. Joseph was just as whipped for that boy as I was. “Come play with us, BoBo!”
“Your wife said you owe her a hot dog,” I said to Joseph.
He winced, clearly having forgotten. “Shit, I got distracted with Henry. Watch him?” he asked, gesturing to Henry. “She gets scary when she’s hangry.”
I spent the next three hours occupied with Henry so his parents could have a night just the two of them. I stopped to talk to people here and there. Most of them asked how Mount was doing, while others asked about the Cavendish partnership. I kept my answers vague. I didn’t wanna make it a habit of being gossiped about in theWhispersif I could help it.
Despite my better judgment, I also spent the last three hours looking at Claire what felt like every five seconds. I knew it was a bad idea. A terrible one, really, but there was something about her that was getting harder to ignore. Not that the whiskey was helping. Maybe it was how she wasn’t afraid to show up at Circle M and rip me a new one like no time had passed. Or because Joseph made that comment about her ass. Or the way she managed to save her tour.
Or maybe it had nothing to do with any of that, and everything to do with her being the most beautiful thing I’d ever seen, rival or not.
Carrying a half-conscious Henry over to his parents, I said, “I think this boy’s tapped.” He was holding onto the stuffed monkey he won at the ring toss after playing enough games to empty my wallet. But it was for a good cause and made him happy, so I didn’t mind it.
“Think you’re right, brother,” Joseph said, taking him from me. “I’ll go get him in the car.” He clapped my shoulder, a shit-eating grin on his face. “Thanks, BoBo, for the night off.”
“Kiss my ass,” I groaned, and he laughed. Only Henry could call me that and get away with it.
I helped Anna stand and handed her her purse. “Stop being a bitch, Beau.”
A choked cough escaped me. “What the hell are you talking about?” Was this the hormonal rage I had heard cautionary tales about? Did she not want her purse? I’d carry it for her if she didn’t want it that badly, but she’d have to ask a lot nicer than that.
