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COLE

“Here’s to the best wedding planning committee ever!”

Amber held up a champagne flute, encouraging all of us to do the same. All of the women she micromanaged on a day-to-day basis looked happy for once, each of them excitedly downing their drink. We’d practically taken over the local bar, Amber wanting to celebrate the work everyone had done so far with the wedding.

Everyone including Dylan. He was sitting right next to her, sipping on his champagne. His expression was somewhere between joyful and bewildered, like he didn’t know what my sister was going to say or do next. I imagined it was exasperating working so closely with Amber, and yet, Dylan was able to generally keep a calm demeanor. It was pretty impressive?—

Shit.

Am I staring at him again?

I looked away from him, cursing quietly under my breath. I was only here because Amber had dragged me here, once again involving me in her wedding planning against my wishes. Luckily, I was in between things to do, still waiting to hear back about the McMillan property. I was hoping that it’d all be a smooth transition but if it was going to be a fight, I was ready for that too.

“This is why Dad likes you so much, you know,” Levi started, as he slid a champagne flute into my hand.

“What?”

“You’re not even here right now, are you?” He grinned. “You’re thinking about the McMillan deal and how you’re going to beat us out for it.”

“Are you saying I can’t live in the moment?”

“I’m saying you don’t. Always so far ahead of everyone else.” Levi sighed. “It’s not a bad thing, except when you can’t enjoy a nice night out.”

“What’s there to enjoy? You know how I feel about this wedding.”

“Who cares how you feel about the wedding? Loosen up, man.” Levi playfully nudged me in the shoulder. “You’re saying no one over there is even catching your eye? I know you’re not ready for anything serious which is why one of Amber’s…”

Levi’s words trailed off for a moment or two. “Are they her employees? Friends? Do we know any of those women?”

“No idea.”

“We’ll just call them her assistants, then.” He laughed as he went on. “You’re not interested in any of her assistants? It’d be perfect for you. Someone to hook up with and then we’ll probably never see them again.”

I was going to say something in response but felt Levi physically turning my head back towards Amber and her assistants…

And Dylan.

“All you have to do is pick one. Any of them would be lucky to have you,” Levi said. “You just need to start getting back out there, man. Before it’s too late.”

“Too late?”

“Yeah, before you start thinking there’s no point. Just because it didn’t work out with?—”

“If I go over there and talk to one of them, will you stop talking to me?”

“That’s all I’ve ever wanted.” Levi’s smile was huge as he finally downed his own champagne.

I moved away from Levi, heading over to my sister’s side of the bar. All of the women surrounding her were alive with chatter, all seeming buzzed from the free-flowing drinks. Just as I approached them, I noticed Dylan getting up from the table. He sidestepped me as he walked towards the bar.

Wait.

Is he avoiding me?

“Hey there,” one of Amber’s assistants greeted me with a flirty look. “You’re Amber’s older brother, right?”

“Uh, yeah. That’s me,” I answered, my attention still on Dylan.

“You’resofuckinghot.” Her words came out all at once, more slur than sentence. “I’ve seen you around the ranch. You’re like a real life cowboy.”

“Right.”

“I’ve ridden a horse or two before but never a cowboy.”

“Sure.”

“Maybe after this, you and me could?—”

“Excuse me.” It was the last thing I said, before I followed Dylan to the bar. He was sitting down now, his phone open as he scrolled down a page.

I took a seat right next to him, my eyes looking over at his screen. “You’re looking up… drinks?”

“Not for here. For the wedding,” he clarified. He then held up a glass of what looked like a Jack and Coke. “See? I’m multitasking. Drinking and working, like you’re supposed to do.”

I let out a small laugh. Dylan stopped scrolling and stared over at me.

“What’s so funny, cowboy?”

“My brother just got on my case for doing the same thing. Being here but not being in the moment.”

“I don’t get paid to be in the moment.”

“How about when you’re off the clock? Are you in the moment then?”

Dylan paused for a moment before he replied, “I… don’t know how to answer that question. I’m usually pretty busy with wedding planning. Not a lot of time to stop and smell the roses when you’re the one ordering hundreds of them.”

“Is my sister making you order hundreds of roses?”

“Thousands, maybe.”

“Is that… a normal amount of flowers for a wedding?”

Dylan shot me a look before breaking into a laugh. I couldn’t help but laugh along with him, already knowing that there wasn’t anything normal about what my sister wanted for the wedding.

“She has a really good heart, even if she’s a lot,” I said, with a soft smile. “She might be ridiculous, but she doesn’t mean anything by it.”

“I know.” Dylan smiled back at me. “I’m starting to wonder if it runs in the family?—”

“Are you new to town, pretty boy?” Suddenly a stranger appeared next to Dylan, his eyes looking him up and down. “Never seen you around here before.”

The stranger took a step closer to Dylan, his fists balled up at his side. His chest was puffed out, too, like he was looking for a fight. Dylan quickly picked up on the stranger’s body language, and moved a few steps away from him, inching closer to me.

“I was just grabbing a drink.” Dylan held up his glass. “I don’t want any trouble tonight?—”

“No offense but we don’t have a lot of men like you around here,” the stranger cut him off. “Out here, men are still men. You understand that, don’t you? What is it to be a man?”

“And what makes you think I’m not a man?” Dylan pressed, his tone filled with annoyance.

“Because I know what you are. And what you do,” the stranger replied. “And I know it’s not right. Men aren’t supposed to do that with each other?—”

“Can’t you just leave me the fuck alone?”

“Excuse me?”

“We get it. You hate me because I’m gay. And I hate you because you’re ignorant.” Dylan rolled his eyes. “So, what? You came over here to hurt me? To prove some kind of fucked up point?”

The stranger cruelly laughed. “Who knows? Maybe getting your ass beat will get it out of your system?—”

Without hesitation, Dylan threw the rest of his drink right in the stranger’s face. The stranger reeled back, his fist aimed straight for Dylan?—

But without thinking, I was suddenly there instead. The stranger’s fist connected with the side of my face, pain springing up immediately underneath my skin and near my upper jaw. My hand then went for the stranger’s throat, pulling him up in the air, just enough to slam his side against the bar top. He wrestled against me, but I had him in my grip, slamming him one more time for good measure.

A few seconds later and he held up his hands for mercy. I let him slink down to the floor before he crawled away from us, low to the ground where he belonged.

“Shit! Cole!” Dylan grabbed me by the hand, pulling me away from the bar. He didn’t stop until we were in the bathroom, his fingers flying up towards my face. “Why the hell did you do that? You weren’t supposed to?—”

“I was just supposed to let that asshole hurt you?”

“Technically, I started it. Like, legally, I think, because I threw my drink in his face?—”

“Who cares? I wasn’t going to let him do that to you.”

“Cole—” Dylan groaned, his fingertips brushing along my cheek. “There’s no way this isn’t going to turn into some kind of bruise. I think we have to get some ice for it.”

He groaned again, his eyes meeting mine. “People are going to think you were in some kind of bar fight.”

“Isn’t that exactly what happened?” I smirked.

“Still.” He pouted, worry filling his face. “Shit, Cole. I can’t believe you did that for me. I thought you hated me.”

“You thought I hated you?”

“I mean, you were kind of an asshole to me when we first met.”

“That wasn’t about you. That was about Amber’s wedding planning. I figured if I was an asshole to the wedding planner, maybe she’d see I was serious about not being involved.”

“Sure. Right. That makes it all okay then.”

“Would you accept my bruised face as an apology for being an asshole?”

“Maybe.” Dylan grinned. “We’ll have to wait and see how bruised it is.”

I suddenly became extremely aware that Dylan’s fingertips were still on my face. A part of me wanted to turn into his palm, keeping the connection, feeling the warmth of his skin…

But that was a part of me that I didn’t understand. It was a confusing feeling, uncomfortable in the way it felt like it just showed up out of nowhere. I pushed it down as I stared back at Dylan. His eyes were on mine, too, like he was waiting to see what I would do next, waiting for something to happen in the moment.

Instead, I reached for his hand, gently pulling it away from my face. “We should see if the bar has any ice.”

“Right. Yeah. We should.” Dylan looked disappointed but it only lasted for a second, soon replaced by a warm smile. “I’m sure they’ll have something we can use.”

By the time we got back to the bar, Amber was already waiting for us. “Oh, my God! What the hell happened to you? I saw some guy punch you in the face and then you just disappeared!”

“I’m fine. I just need ice.”

“He was protecting my honor,” Dylan added. “Some asshole was being homophobic, and your brother beat him up for me.”

“Wait, really?” Amber held a hand over her mouth, tears glistening in her eyes. “That’s so fucked up but that’s so sweet too! Come here!”

Amber pulled Dylan into a tight hug. “If it wasn’t my brother, you know it would’ve been me, right? I definitely would’ve beat up some loser for you.”

“Trust me. I know.” Dylan grinned. “I’m starting to think it runs in the family.”

I let out a light laugh at Dylan’s reference to our earlier conversation, just as pain radiated from my upper jaw. I quickly got the bartender’s attention, asking for some ice in a cloth, and they kindly obliged. As Dylan and Amber went back to wedding planning, Uncle Virgil came to sit beside me at the bar.

“Have you been here this whole time?” I was shocked at his sudden appearance.

“I’m always around, nephew, you know that.” Virgil stared at me, hard. “Did you just get into a fight over the wedding planner?”

“ Over the wedding planner?”

“Now, why would you go and do something like that? Risk jail time for a wedding planner you barely know? If you know him, at all?”

“Just seemed like the right thing to do, I guess.”

“The right thing to do…” Virgil muttered to himself. “You know, some things aren’t about what they’re about.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Some things aren’t about the right thing to do… some things aren’t about winning a bar fight…”

“Whatever you say, Uncle.” I winced at the pain in my cheek, not in the mood for his cryptic words of wisdom.

Virgil just tilted his head to the side, a vague expression on his face as he watched me attempt to nurse my own face back to health.