Page 28 of Ridin' Free

It’s why I liked them so much. We understood each other, even if we didn’t know one another.

Like always, Betty found them a place to sit out on the floor while Richard came up to the bar to order their first round.

“Jack and coke with a vodka soda?” I called out before he could.

“You got it, darlin’,” he confirmed with a smile and a nod.

“Comin’ right up.”

I’d just delivered both drinks when my phone began to vibrate from inside the back pocket of my jeans. I turned my back to our patrons and extracted the device, not at all surprised to seeGeorgiawas calling. Again. It was getting beyond ridiculous. She’d left a dozen messages, all of them the same.

‘You can’t ignore me forever, Ali-Mae,’she said.‘I’m your mother.’

As if I needed reminding.

“Hey, you good?” asked Mustang, nudging me with his elbow.

I was quick to ignore the call, shoving my phone back into my pocket as I smiled up at him. “Dandy,” was my reply.

“I’m gonna get us more ice. Can you handle those two?” he asked, jerking his chin toward the opposite end of the bar.

“On it,” I said, already headed that way.

Like it was just about every Friday, we were busy. Mustang had two opening acts and a headliner that night—the headliner a band he’d discovered at Sturgis a couple of years ago. They were a crowd favorite who came around as often as Mustang could book them, which was once every month or so.

It was one A.M. when they wrapped up their set, but the bar was still full of Stallions at last call. Rodeo and Buck managed to clear the room, and I knew the party would continue at the clubhouse.

I wondered if Twister was there—waiting for his brothers with open arms.

Or maybe he’s busy fucking Lyla.

I was in the middle of closing out the till when the thought crossed my mind. It totally ruined my concentration, and I had to backtrack in order to make sure I got all the numbers right.

Get a grip, Phoenix.

It was time to go home. I was being irrational.

Where Twister decided to sink his dick was not my concern.

Never had been. Never would be.

Mustang let Buck and Rodeo head out at a quarter to three, and he and I were soon to follow.

“I’ll see you tomorrow, boss-man,” I said with a wave as he headed for his hog.

“Get home safe.”

“Always do.”

Just like the first time—I was fishing my keys out of my purse when I saw him, leaning against the driver’s side door of my Bronco. My step faltered as my stomach knotted itself at the mere sight of him.

Much as I knew this moment would come, I suddenly didn’t feel ready for it.

Looks like he’s not busy fuckin’ Lyla, after all.

I twisted my neck, mentally kicking myself for the intrusive thought. I then palmed my keys tightly in my hand, focusing my attention on the pinch of the metal digging into my skin as I closed the distance between Twister and me.

I didn’t say anything as I came to a stop beside him.