Page 17 of Wild Hearts (Ruby Ridge #1)

carter

. . .

Vartan

What the fuck was that about the other night?

Carter

Nothing.

I quickly glance at my phone and pocket it as we pull into the parking lot of Boots & Bourbon. I don’t have time to explain to him and my head is already fucking pounding.

Catalina and her friends haven’t shut up since the second I picked them up. Singing, shrieking, talking a mile a goddamn minute—filling the truck with so much chaotic energy it feels like the cab shrank by half. I swear, I don’t know how three women can be so loud.

I trail in behind them, shoving my hands deep into my pockets, watching Catalina practically skip her way up to the bar like she owns the damn place.

Reed’s behind the counter, leaning against it with that dry, unimpressed expression he’s perfected over the years.

His sharp green eyes track her approach, a flicker of amusement sparking beneath the surface.

“Back already on your day off?” he drawls, wiping down a glass.

Catalina flashes him a grin, pure sunshine and mischief. “Missed me already, Reed?”

He snorts without missing a beat.

“Not even a little.”

She waves off the jab, turning to gesture at her friends. “These are my girls, Amelia and Layla.”

Reed’s gaze shifts, assessing both of them with the same careful calculation he gives everyone new.

A slow nod, polite but measured.

“Welcome to Boots & Bourbon, ladies.”

Before either of them can respond, the door slams open, cracking against the wall with a bang, and in struts Maverick.

Look at this fucking idiot.

The golden boy of the NFL, my middle brother, moves like he owns every room he walks into, all confidence and ease. And of course, the second he clocks us, his eyes zero in on Amelia.

Jesus Christ, here we go.

“Well, well,” Maverick drawls, sauntering up like he’s got all the time in the world. “What do we have here?”

Amelia barely spares him a glance. Just a sharp, cutting look as she crosses her arms over her chest. “A woman who is way out of your league, pretty boy.”

Maverick’s grin only widens, like he’s just been handed his favorite challenge on a silver platter. But it’s the tension in Amelia that catches me off guard.

The way she goes still. Defensive .

Maverick smirks, unfazed as always. “Damn, dollface. I just got here, and you’re already breaking my heart.”

Amelia lifts her glass to her lips, taking a slow sip without even bothering to look impressed. “You’ll fucking survive.”

Catalina loses it beside me, doubling over with laughter. It’s the first time I’ve seen her look this relaxed, and fuck if that sound isn’t something I could listen to forever.

Maverick clutches his chest dramatically. “You wound me, baby. Do I at least get your name before you crush my soul entirely?”

Amelia meets his eyes without flinching and hisses at him. Actually fucking hisses.

I blink, wondering if I’m still asleep and hallucinating this whole exchange.

Maverick grins wider, like a man who’s never been more entertained. “I like ‘em spicy,” he says, “keep hissing at me, baby.”

How am I related to this fucking goon?

Reed chuckles lightly from behind the bar, shaking his head as he wipes down the counter. His attention shifts fast when Layla steps up, offering him a bright, sweet smile.

“This place is sooo nice,” she says, her voice bubbling with genuine excitement. “I love the decor you got going on, so western chic.”

Reed raises a brow, glancing around like he’s never really thought about it before.

“You think so?” he asks, sounding almost skeptical.

Layla nods, her blonde hair bouncing around her shoulders. “It’s got this cozy southern charm. I could make a video about your bar, give you some real exposure if you want.”

Something shifts in Reed’s expression. He doesn’t smile much. Hell, he barely even cracks a full grin, but right now, he does.

Just a little.

Catalina bumps her elbow into my side, a mischievous glint in her eyes. “Oh my god, do you see that?”

I grunt, sipping my drink, already exhausted by whatever bullshit’s about to unfold.

Maverick leans in, way too close to my damn ear, his voice booms loud enough to rattle my skull. “Are we all just gonna ignore the fact that Reed is making actual goo-goo eyes at Layla?”

Reed calmly picks up a bottle cap and whips it at Maverick’s head. “Shut the fuck up.”

Layla giggles, the sound sweet and unfiltered, and I swear to God, Reed visibly softens.

Maverick snickers. “Damn Reed, you never smile at me like that.”

Reed doesn’t look up as he continues drying glasses. “That’s because I don’t like you.”

Catalina is full-on dying next to me, laughing so hard she has to clutch the edge of the bar to stay upright.

I should’ve left their drunk asses here and gone home.

I’m sitting in the corner of my brother’s bar, nursing a beer and watching the disaster unfold like a goddamn babysitter. Catalina and Layla are slumped over each other in their booth, giggling about shit that probably doesn’t even make sense to them anymore .

Catalina lifts her head and looks at me. Her glassy, redrimmed eyes meet mine. “If I were a worm, ” she slurs, “would you like me?”

I blink at her, completely lost.

If she were a what? What the actual fuck?

Before I can form words, Layla hiccups loudly, chiming in.

“Yeah, Connor,” she hiccups, “would you?”

“My name is Carter, thank you,” I reply. “And why the fuck would she be a worm?”

Layla scoffs dramatically and throws her hand in the air like I’m the idiot. “Ugh, you don’t get it.”

They both dissolve into giggles, turning their attention back to Amelia like they’ve already forgotten I exist.

Maverick—that jackass—is laser-focused on Amelia, still trying his hardest to wear her down. She looks like she’s two seconds away from launching her drink straight into his face.

“Admit it,” Maverick says, leaning in with that infuriating smirk of his. “You think I’m pretty.”

Amelia stares him down, completely unimpressed. “I think you’re a weasel,” she snaps.

Maverick clutches his chest, pretending to be mortally wounded. “That’s so hurtful, Amelia.”

Layla snorts loud enough to make heads turn. “No, what’s hurtful is the fact that you haven’t brought me pizza,” she slurs, slamming her hand on the table. “PIZZA!”

Jesus Christ.

She’s downright terrifying when she’s drunk.

I glance over at Reed, and give him a look that says get the damn girl some food before she burns this place down.

Reed nods silently and disappears toward the back .

I turn my attention back just in time to catch Amelia shaking her head, still locked in battle with my idiot brother.

“Listen, Maverick?—”

“That’s Mr. Hayes to you, dollface,” he cuts in with a wink.

Amelia groans, dragging a hand down her face. “I swear to God, if you call me dollface one more time–”

“What? You’ll fall madly in love with me?” he teases.

Catalina, drunk and way too entertained by this shitshow, howls with laughter, clutching her stomach. “Oh my godddd,” she gasps, “I’m going to pee myself. Maverick, please.”

Maverick grins wider, cocky as ever. “Not until she admits she’s obsessed with me.”

Amelia blinks at him slowly, like she’s deciding whether it’s even worth the effort. Then, without warning, she places both hands against his chest and leans in, voice dropping to a sultry whisper.

“I am obsessed with you, baby,” she purrs.

Maverick’s eyes go wide, and he grabs her hands, placing them on his chest. “Yeah?”

Amelia smiles sweetly. “Obsessed with never seeing you again,” she says, pulling away.

I nearly spit out my water as Catalina and Layla burst into uncontrollable laughter. Layla practically wheezes from how hard she’s laughing.

Maverick stands there, grinning like the dumbass golden retriever he is.

“Damn, baby,” he calls after her as Amelia flips him off and stalks away, “you play dirty.”

Reed chuckles under his breath, finishing off the last of his drink before setting a greasy plate of pizza down in front of Layla .

“Oh, thank you, Lord,” she moans dramatically, “I’m starving.”

She attacks the pizza like she hasn’t eaten in days, completely unaware of the rest of us watching in half-horror, half-amusement.

Once she demolishes the last slice, Reed clears his throat, dragging a towel over the bar.

“Alright, that’s enough,” he says, voice dry. “I’m closing up. Carter, get these drunk idiots out of my bar.”

I sigh, pushing up from my chair, my entire body feeling heavier by the second. “You heard him,” I mutter, cracking my neck. “Let’s go.”