Page 3 of Riding the Line (Willow Ridge #2)

Duke

The last thing I need in my life is the knowledge of what Cherry Hensley looks like giving a lap dance. Yet, here I am, frozen in the doorway to my bar as I watch her grind her ass against Montana and then flick her long, silky black hair up as she lifts her gaze to mine.

God, she’s even biting her lip.

I don’t need to know what that looks like either. She’s Wyatt’s sister, for God’s sake.

Dark eyes latch onto me, the ecstasy and wildness in them immediately extinguishing, replaced with widening alarm. It takes everything to rip my stare from her and glance at Levi and Montana, both wide-eyed and silent, nobody moving an inch.

Including me.

I should say something – I’m the boss here.

I should be annoyed that they’re playing games as opposed to cleaning up and closing the bar.

I just need to remove myself from the situation quickly and pretend this never happened, so I don’t give myself enough time to let what I’ve just seen Cherry doing brand itself on my memory.

To avoid going down the road I work so well to avoid.

I clear my throat and throw out, ‘It’s a bar, not a strip club, kids.’ Then, I half-run straight towards my office at the back of the bar, purposefully not looking behind as I add on, ‘Put the chairs back and go home, I’ll finish up and close.’

I shut my office door once inside, flick on the light, and lean against my desk, my lungs emptying on a sigh.

It’s a bar, not a strip club, kids. Jesus, I sound like an old man, as opposed to the twenty-seven-year-old I am.

I run a hand down my face as I wait for them to leave. I really did not need this tonight. Behind the door, I hear Cherry squeal with humiliation at the other two. God, I hope she doesn’t hate me now, thinking I’m some mean old boss sending them home.

The sounds of chairs scraping, frantic footsteps, and doors swinging echo as they all grab their stuff from the staff room.

It’s not until I hear the back door closing and the bar empty of hushed voices that I start my search through the piles of random crap on my desk for my laptop which I’d accidentally left in my office – the reason I popped down here tonight from my apartment above the bar.

I couldn’t sleep knowing I hadn’t replied to that email yet.

What it could mean for me and my life here.

Though, I doubt I’ll be getting any sleep at all now I’m going to have Cherry Hensley playing through my head. Twerking .

No – I’m not going to think about that.

Grabbing my laptop from my desk, I walk back out into the bar, only to stop short at the sight of Cherry, bag on her shoulder, leaning against one of the tables.

The fairy lights and a couple of still-lit candles on the tables reflect off her black hair, making it look like the starry sky.

A teasing slither of tan skin separates the faded jeans hugging her hips and long, slender legs from her tight black tank top.

She nibbles one of her nails, staring at the ground, until she hears me approach and swiftly whips her head up. Her cherry-red lips press together, brows dropping. Silence hovers between us for a few beats. Just like it always does when we first see each other.

‘Everything alright, Baby Hensley?’ I eventually ask, moving myself to behind the bar to check everything is tidied up, and putting a physical barrier between us.

The flutter of her lashes almost conceals her quick eye roll at the nickname – the same one I’ve teased her with since she was a kid.

The one that reminds me who she is – the baby of the Hensley clan.

Memories of Wyatt and me staring down any man that has had the audacity to check her out since she started working at the bar filter into my mind.

‘I’m sorry,’ she says, teeth tugging on her bottom lip again.

I shrug. ‘Don’t be, it’s cool.’

‘I don’t normally do things like that, though.’ Cherry pushes off the table and shuffles towards the bar, forcing me backwards against the counter.

When she reaches the bar, she swings her bag up onto it and—

The bag goes toppling off, plummeting to the ground in front of me, its contents spilling across the floor. Her phone and purse hit my feet as a notebook and some paper also scatter out.

Cherry curses and rushes around the bar to join me as I drop to the floor to shove everything back in her bag.

I assume the paper fell out of her notebook, so I go to file it back inside when I catch the title sprawled across the top, each word a different colour: Montana’s Super-Hot and Crazy Bucket List for Cherry.

Oh, this looks like some top-tier material to tease her for.

‘What the hell is this?’ I snort, coming to a stand.

‘Oh my God, no!’ Cherry lunges towards me to grab the paper, but I lift it up out of her reach. Her hands scramble against me, trying to snatch the paper, forcing me to hold her back with my arm, laughing. She begs, ‘Duke, no, please!’

Her nails graze my bicep and forearm as she continues to battle against me, whining.

I ignore the slight rush of pleasure that courses through me.

It’s moments like these when I have to drop into the familiar role of her older brother’s friend who enjoys annoying her, as if she was my own little sister.

So that I’m not crossing any lines.

So that I don’t end up losing anyone else.

When Cherry wails again, I twist around to block her and hold the paper above my head to start reading through, picking out random ones on the list. ‘Learn to roller-skate, get a tattoo, wild swim at night.’

Her hands grapple against my shoulder, trying to tug me around. Her chest presses against me, curves melting against my body. ‘Duke, I’m begging you—’

‘Break into somewhere,’ I wheeze out, unable to imagine Cherry doing anything criminal ever. This is the best thing I’ve ever read. I wish I could show Wyatt and the others. ‘Go speed dating, have a firework kiss, have a guy give me an org—’

The rest of the word comes out strangled.

A sharp gasp sounds behind me and Cherry freezes. I think I can actually feel her cringing. I let myself take one more glance down the paper and immediately regret it when I see what follows:

Have a one night stand

Have sex in a car

Have sex in a pool

Have sex in the shower

Have sex in a hot tub

Have sex in a public place

Have sex in a restroom

And I was worried about not being able to get her dancing on Montana out of my head … Now, that seems trivial.

Trying to force the memory of what I’ve just read out of my head, I gently fold the paper up and turn to Cherry.

Her brows draw in, dark eyes shining wildly as she watches me turn.

She worries her lip again, the dark red so stark against her white teeth.

Hesitantly, she takes the paper from my hand as I pass it over.

Her fingers only faintly brush mine yet still leave a tingling sensation in their wake.

‘Please don’t judge me,’ Cherry begs.

I rub the back of my neck. ‘What? I wouldn’t—’

‘Um, yes you would!’ she barks out in a laugh, slapping me on my upper arm. There’s the Cherry I know. ‘You and the guys always make fun of me. I put my hair in space buns one time in high school and you all called me Princess Leia for weeks!’

Her sweet giggle instantly goads my own laugh out.

I hold up my hands. ‘Okay, you got me there … I’m, um, guessing tonight’s behaviour has something to do with that?’ I nod towards the list she’s now stuffing into her back pocket.

‘Maybe,’ Cherry groans, leaning back against the counter beside me.

I shuffle a few inches away. The neon lights give her skin a scarlet glow, the sensuous kind that I’d love to capture with my paints, as opposed to the pen and napkins I usually have to revert to.

Speaking of, I wonder what happened to the one I left on the bar earlier…

Her chest deflates on a sigh. ‘I … I asked Montana to make me a bucket list of things to do before I graduate. To try and make me feel a bit more confident. And that I haven’t wasted the best years of my life.’

‘ Best years of your life?’ I repeat, crossing my arms. ‘Cherry, you’re so young. You’ve got your whole life ahead of you.’ One that I’ll eventually no longer be a part of.

‘Yeah.’ Cherry smiles softly, though it barely reaches her cheeks.

‘But that’s what they say about college.

Because after that, you have to be a serious adult and don’t have time for as much.

I’ve got one year left before that’s my fate and I just …

I feel like I haven’t done any big, cool things yet, you know? ’

I think back to summer nights at rodeos and fairs when Cherry would always have to leave before the rest of our group, fear of a seizure from tiredness hanging over her.

Or that time when I came back to the Hensleys’ house to stay with Wyatt after one of Sawyer’s bull-riding competitions, only to find Cherry on the couch in the dark with her prom dress beside her, the seizure she’d had only a couple of days before already decided to be too serious to risk junior prom for her.

Everyone had thought almost a year with no seizures meant things were finally looking up for her; if anything, it only made her parents monitor her harder.

‘Eh, I think big, cool things are a little overrated,’ I suggest.

‘What?’ Cherry’s hair tumbles over her shoulders as she shakes her head. ‘But that’s what everyone always says on their death bed – that they wish they’d done more big, exciting things with their life. That they’d lived it to its fullest.’

‘Oh yeah? Did you interview every person who’s ever died?’ I jest, receiving an expected eye roll in return.