Page 69 of Here With Me

“They graduated in the same year. Never got along,” Noah explains. “He hates me because he thinks I steal his clients. But really, they come to me after they fire him for being incompetent.”

“When you report it to Sheriff Wagner, Wilder needs to include what he said. You might wanna install more cameras and put up No Trespassing signs on that side of the ranch. That way, you can at least say you had them up if he does it again.”

“Good idea. I’ll have the boys do that tomorrow.”

Magnolia snorts, wedging herself back into our conversation. “If they’re not hungover.”

“I’ll do it, then. You need them up as soon as possible. Hard to tell how far he’ll go, but I don’t trust him.”

“Join the club.” Magnolia wrinkles her nose. “He wasn’t always this way. Well, not as bad anyway. Not until Noah turned him down last year. Then he made it his mission to make her life a livin’ hell by tryin’ to steal her clients.”

“I have a feelin’ many girls turn him down, but he found a way to get even with you because of your shared interests,” I tell Noah.

“He’s made snide comments about howit must be nice that Mommy and Daddy pay for my business.” She scoffs. “He’s too dense to realize I earned it. I pleaded with my dad for five months to expand the trainin’ center. Eventually, I gave a presentation on how it’d benefit the ranch with projected earnings and how I’d meet them. He finally agreed, and we expanded the arena so I could train for barrel racing. It also helped so my brothers and I could train at the same time without being on top of each other.”

“And your girl smashed those earnings in half the time she promised! It brought in more clients and more trainin’ hours,” Magnolia gushes, smiling wide at Noah like a proud best friend. “Which means Mr. Hollis lets her do whatever she wants now.”

Noah’s cheeks tint a gorgeous color of cherry red that matches her lipstick. “Yes, but I spent years workin’ my ass off for that, so Craig can fuck off.”

He’s gonna do a lot more than that if he doesn’t leave her alone.

We finish our first round of drinks, but as soon as they call Wilder’s name next in line, we move to the bull area.

He’s definitely had a handful of beers by now and is rowdy as hell when he jumps on top of the mechanical bull. “Yeah, baby! Let’s goooo!” He waves his ball cap in the air and grips the horn with his other hand.

The guy in charge counts down, then presses the button.

“Yeehaw!” Wilder shouts, his legs flying up and down as the bull spins, going faster and faster with each passing second.

Noah and Magnolia hold their phones and giggle as they record him.

A roar of laughter echoes when he falls off before the eight seconds are up.

He stumbles on wobbly legs before face-planting on the mat and then rolls over.

Jesus Christ.

Waylon goes out and lends him a hand, then pulls him to his feet.

“How long did I last?” Wilder asks, slurring over his words.

“Five seconds,” Tripp says.

“Oof. I feel sorry for Jen,” Magnolia says, earning a shove from Wilder.

“You’re next,” Tripp tells Noah. “I put your name on the list.”

“You jerk! I’ve only had one drink. I can’t do it sober.”

I arch a brow but stay quiet. She’s had two, including the one she had at the restaurant, but technically speaking, she’s had four if we count the tequila and the shot. She’s far from sober.

“Show us what ya got, little sis!” Tripp shouts, clapping to draw more attention.

“You owe me a drink after this!” She nudges her shoulder against Tripp as she walks into the ring.

My chest tightens as she climbs on. She adjusts her dress so it’s tucked under her thighs. I don’t want her to get hurt, but given the encouragement of her brothers, they’re not as worried.

“Yeah, Noah! Show us whatcha got!” Magnolia cups her mouth, shouting out each word in a long drawl.