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Hands clenched into fists, he battled the urge to pull out his stiff cock and finish the job.
He could never sleep with her. This was the last time he’d ever lay a hand, tongue or any other body part on her.
He’d made a promise to his best friend to watch over Meadow. While he’d stretched the promise, and maybe skewed it a little, he wouldn’t violate it. This would have to be enough.
Walking away from that woman was one of the hardest things Colton had ever done in his life.
Chapter Seven
Badlands was in full outlaw mode tonight and living up to its name. So far, Colton had witnessed two bar fights, and he and his fellow ranch hands from the Gracey were about to watch a catfight go down between two women.
Dude leaned in close, voice raised to be heard above the loud music, the thump of boots on the dance floor a few feet away and the constant clank of beer bottles. “My bet’s on the redhead! Feisty!”
Colton shifted his gaze to the redhead in booty shorts sinking her long talonlike fingernails in the dishwater-blonde hair of a woman clinging to the mechanical bull like she was never letting go.
She did let go. When she ripped the blonde off the back of the bull, the crowd erupted in cheers.
He couldn’t help but grin too. This was the Montana equivalent of a fight club and reminded him more than ever that he was not in the military anymore.
Overcome by excitement, Dude grabbed him by the shoulders and gave him a shake. “Damn, look at her go!”
The blonde let out a shrill scream that had the big, bulky bouncer who planted himself at the door shouldering his way through the crowd.
Something ice-cold trickled down Colton’s spine, wetting his shirt. He twisted to find another redhead standing there, one he’d seen before, working behind the bar.
“Sorry!” She held up two beers, which she must have sloshed on him.
Not willing to raise his voice over the din, he shrugged. The woman pushed through the crowd until she reached the other redhead who had the blonde on the ground pinned to the floor with her fingers lashed in her hair.
The redhead carrying the beer said something to the bouncer, and he plucked the other woman off the blonde as if she weighed no more than a paper bag.
She kicked and clawed the air. Then the bouncer set her down on her feet hard. The woman glared at him. At that point, the other redhead approached her, and Colton saw the family resemblance.
The entertainment seemed to be over for the moment. Seeing this too, Dude tapped him on the shoulder. “Let’s grab another round.”
He ducked his head in a nod and wove through the crowd, who all went back to enjoying their Friday night.
When they reached the bar, it was three people deep. A couple of the other ranch hands who’d joined them crowded around too. They talked and joked, including him in their banter.
With a start, Colton realized that after a mere two weeks on the ranch, the guys had accepted him.
The feeling in his chest was unexpected, but one he recognized from past experiences in the military. This was a new kind of brotherhood. While he didn’t yet trust the guys he busted his ass on the ranch with like he did the men in his squadron, he didn’t dislike them either. Still, it left him unsettled and ready for another beer.
Feeling a stare on him, Colton glanced around and caught Zach Webb’s gaze. His gut instinct to mop the dusty floor with the man was stronger since that day Webb challenged him in the bunkhouse, but he resisted. The black eye he still sported had faded to a technicolor of green, yellow and brown.
Webb pretended that he hadn’t been glaring at him. Colton hadn’t quite worked out whether the guy hated him because he was the ranch rookie or for another reason.
He did have his suspicions, however. Too many times, he’d seen how Webb followed Meadow with his eyes as she pranced around the ranch in tight cutoffs and short sundresses.
If Colton had to guess, he’d say the ranch manager had a thing for the boss’s daughter. Hell, every man in that bunkhouse probably popped a woody whenever he thought about Meadow, and that notion forced a growl into Colton’s throat.
At that moment, a spot at the bar opened up, and Webb surged forward to snag his beer. When Colton bought a round for everyone, Webb just sent him a glare.
He returned it with a cock of his eyebrow and passed out the drinks. Dude managed to claim a table near the mechanical bull, and they all dragged out the shitty wooden chairs and sat with their drinks in hand.
One of the guys raised his beer. “We work hard. Tonight, we play hard.”
“Here, here!” The guys swigged, including Colton. The cool brew sliding down his throat felt good after spending half the day parched in the scorching sun. Didn’t help that he’d been burning up for a certain cowgirl for weeks.
