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Probably why I feel so keyed up with Mollie on my arm.She smells good, the perfume she’s wearing somehow sweetandsexy. Hint of vanilla. Another hint of something floral and pretty.

This was a bad idea.

Coming to The Rattler and having a beer with Mollie was a really bad fucking idea.

I need to leave. Immediately.

But then the song ends, and Mollie throws up her arms. She lets out a loud holler that puts a big old smile on Sally’s face.

It also captures the attention of every guy in a twenty-foot vicinity. Several shamelessly stare at Mollie, a few of the bolder ones even moving closer. I see the Wallace boys in the mix. Wonder if anything ever happened between Beck and Sally. And where the hell is their sister, Billie? She’s good at keeping them in line.

My grip on my beer tightens.Thisis why I’m here. Last thing I felt like doing after a long day on the ranch was getting dressed and going out. But I didn’t like the idea of Mollie getting hit on left and right by local drunks who get a little too handsy after a couple of drinks.

Wyatt is too distracted by, well, everyone to watch over Mollie. Sawyer’s back home, putting Ella to bed. And Duke and Ryder, they’re too busy trying to get laid to keep tabs on our new owner.

As usual, it’s up to me to keep everyone safe.

“Thank y’all,” Patsy says into the mic. “Always fun to cover the king himself.”

“You’re a rock star!” Mollie says.

John B holds up his hand. “Ain’t she, though?”

“I’m already a fan for life.” Mollie gives him a high five. “Your girls are so talented.”

He beams. “I’m the luckiest man alive.”

“This next one is for Cash Rivers.” Sally glances at me before taking a swig of her margarita. “Since we haven’t seenhim for a minute here at The Rattler, figure we’ll welcome him with one of his favorites. Y’all enjoy.”

My chest stirs as the opening notes of “Neon Moon” fill the bar.

Mollie glances at me, her smile in her eyes now. “This is one of my favorite Brooks & Dunn songs too.”

Seems too simple for a girl like her—the pleasure of a great song being played by a great band in a bar as old as we are. I would’ve thought only a trip on a private jet or a Rolex for her birthday would light her up like this.

But here we are. My heart thumps as people pair off around us. Watching couples move across the dance floor, her gaze flickers.

Mollie don’t have a ring on her finger. I imagine if she had a boyfriend, he’d be here right now. No way I’d let my girl walk into this bar alone. Much less walk onto the ranch she just inherited by herself.

She’s single, then.

Or maybe I just hope she’s single. Which is plain stupid. Mollie Luck is gorgeous, sure. She’s got more grit than I gave her credit for. But I can’t get involved.

I don’t want to get involved, my thumping pulse notwithstanding.

But then Roddy Oldman, a cowboy from one of the smaller ranches across town with a crooked smile and wandering hands, holds out his arm to Mollie. “Can I have this dance?”

Turning away from me, Mollie grins. “Aren’t you a gentleman? I’d love?—”

“Nope.” Aw shit, now I’m curling an arm around Mollie’s waist.

Now I’m pulling her against me, my body lighting up like a firecracker at the contact. My hand finds her side, and I hold her there, my grip firm.

I don’t miss the way her tits rise on a sharp inhale.

I tell myself I’m just looking out for her.

I’m just keeping her safe. If I’m here, there’s no chance Roddy will put his dirty paws on her.