Page 23 of Ridin' Free

He grinned in that way he did when he found me outrageously hilarious.

Something in my chest tightened at the sight of it.

I chalked it up to annoyance.

“Bullshit,” he challenged.

I shrugged.

“What do you do when you’re not at Mustang’s?”

I leaned back against the cushion of the booth as I replied, “Mind my business.”

He shook his head at me slowly, but I could still see the laughter in his eyes.

“Why you playin’ hard to get?”

It was my turn to prop myself against the table. I got as close as I could before I murmured, “Not playin’, brown-eyes. I’m not the kind that gets got.”

“Then why’d you agree to dinner?”

“To convince you you’re wastin’ your time.”

We were interrupted when our server arrived with the onion rings. I straightened in my seat and thanked the man, even though I had no intention of touching those things. I pushed the basket toward Twister, but he shoved them to the side, his focus still wholly on me.

“Sparky—I’m gonna tell you somethin’. That head of hair you got, with those green eyes and that tight ass, you’ve always been somethin’ to look at.” He paused, leaning in closer, and I saw in his gaze he was no longer amused. “But I’ve heard you moan, and I’ve tasted that mouth, and there’s no way in hell you’re convincin’ me you’re not worth the effort. So, let’s try this again. Where’d you grow up?”

“Where’dyougrow up?”

I spat the words out as fast as I possibly could. He had the upper hand and there was no denying it. It was my fault. I’d fucked him twice. I agreed to this date. If I was honest with myself, I didn’t have the right to be surprised by his questions.

One plus one always equaled two.

But I couldn’t help it. I didn’t want to go home. I didn’t want to be alone. Not yet.

Twister didn’t answer right away. He studied me a moment before he straightened and reached for an onion ring. Before he took a bite, he said, “On a ranch in Dayton, couple hours from here. Got a sister still there. My pops, too. Brother-in-law took over the ranch a few years ago, after we lost mom.”

As he took his first bite, I asked, “And your other sister?”

“She and her brood are down in Casper,” he answered around the fried onion.

“Were you close? With your mom?”

I’m not sure why I asked, other than to keep him talking. I didn’t need to know such intimate details about him—but neither did I want to give him the chance to ask the same of me.

He finished his bite before he replied, “Can’t say I was a mama’s boy, but that doesn’t mean it didn’t hurt like hell when she was gone.”

I opened my mouth to ask another question, but he spoke again before I could get out another word.

“My turn.” He paused a moment, eyeing me carefully, and then asked, “What’s your favorite food?”

He tossed the rest of the onion ring in his mouth, and I couldn’t help but to smile.

Twister was a lot of things, but he wasn’t dumb.

“Sushi,” I answered honestly. “But we don’t really have any of that around here, so I’ll settle for Chinese food if I’m cravin’ it.” I glanced at the basket of onion rings, smirking when I looked back at him and clarified, “Not the fried kind.”

“What’ve you got against fried food?” he asked before taking a sip of his beer.