Page 65 of Something Tangled Something True (Rosa Ranch #1)
We dance for several more songs, taking short breaks in between. When the music swaps to something much slower, couples pairing up to embrace each other, Ryder holds me close to his chest .
My breath catches as I peer up at him, my mind a little hazy. The way he’s looking at me, like I’m the only thing worth watching, makes my heart do a little two-step of its own.
At some point, I plopped down beside Wyatt again, the outside of my thigh now pressing against his black leather pants, but I don’t have the energy or strength to move.
I vaguely hear Ryder ordering chicken wings and cheese fries as I turn to face the group. “Hi.” I wave, a wide smile on my face. At least, I think it’s wide?
The five men lean over the slippery wooden bar top, their lips stretching into grins of their own as their eyes land on me.
“How’s it goin’, Lols?” Levi asks, the corners of his eyes crinkling with mirth.
“You doing okay after everything that went down last night?” Teddy, the blond, asks, his voice low and warm. I feel guilty I’ve met them so many times and don’t remember all their names, but I’m sure that’ll come with time. Lemmon isn’t running me out of town this time, that’s for sure.
“I’m doing about as good as I can be. The insurance should cover most of the damage, but it’s going to take time to make sure the electrical is salvageable and safe and the roof is stable.”
“If there’s anything y’all need, just holler. We’re happy to help,” Wyatt, the one beside me with the short-cropped, dark beard and glittering green eyes, says. He’s also got a warm thigh, which wins an extra brownie point, seeing as my skin is littered with goosebumps from the chill in the room.
“Yeah, Lola. We like to stay busy. Keeps our minds from wandering. We’re happy to help,” the man beside Wyatt says. They share several of the same features, and I recall they’re brothers, but his name escapes me.
As if reading my mind, Wyatt pats his brother on the shoulder and says, “That we do, Cal.” Cal. Callaway!
“We appreciate the offer,” Ryder tells them. “And we might have to take you up on that. Lola’s worked too hard for things to go this poorly so quickly, but it might be smart to wait to fix things up until after we’ve figured out the Lemmon issue.”
The bartender interrupts briefly, delivering our food. “Y’all need anything else to drink?”
I look over to Ryder, who’s got a glass of ice water. He shakes his head no, but I know what this man really wants.
“Yes, please! Ryder would like a Shirley Temple with extra cherries.” I beam at her.
“Comin’ right up,” she says, a smirk curving her magenta-painted lips.
Ryder’s strong arms wind around me, holding me up. He presses a kiss to the pulse along the side of my neck, and my skin feels like it’s on fire in the best way possible.
Raylin passes Ryder a tall, slim glass loaded with cherries, and his smile at seeing the sweet, bubbly drink is contagious. I watch him suck on the straw, his throat bobbing as he swallows.
“Would y’all mind tellin’ us a little about this Lemmon issue? We’ve heard a lot of talk, but we hadn’t realized she might be capable of something as serious as arson,” Levi asks, his salt-and-pepper brows pinched with worry.
I breathe a heavy sigh, dragging a long swig of my drink before answering. “I hope you gentlemen have got time on your hands, because it’s a long and convoluted story, and truthfully, I’m not sure she’s capable of arson either.”
“We’ve got nothin’ but time, Miss Lola,” the redheaded one, whose name I believe is Rhett, says with a soft smile.
And that’s how I find myself blabbering about Lemmon for so long I lose track of time. I tell them I’ve had to give up on romantic thrillers and suspense lately because I’ve been so jumpy from everything going on. The rum and Cokes keep coming, and my lips grow looser by the minute.
They listen to me with rapt attention, hanging on to every word. Ryder just sits back, rubbing soothing circles over my skin as we chat. It feels good to have gotten it all out, spilling my guts to these gentlemen.
This leads into a discussion about the romance books they read, their favorite authors and genres, and a few romantic suspense novels they’ve picked up that reminded them of my current situation.
By the time my lids are drooping and I’m sagging into my seat, I’ve relived our entire history with Lemmon and Russ, and the guys have offered to take turns as my security detail in exchange for dance lessons once the studio is back open.
My mind feels warm and fuzzy, back slumped against Ryder’s chest as he holds my weight up.
“We should get goin’, Miss Lola, but it was wonderful gettin’ to know you better,” Levi says, wrapping Ryder and me up in a hug.
He smells like cloves and leather, and as we wave our goodbyes, my gaze gets caught on their jackets and leather pants.
Ryder would look damn good in leather chaps. “Baby, we should get a motorcycle,” I slur.
He chuckles, the sound tickling the skin of my neck. “Come on, darlin’. Let’s get you home.” Ryder’s words are the last thing I hear before I’m home, on my knees, clutching the porcelain throne and emptying the contents of my stomach.