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I look back up at Rosie’s face, seeing that same expression—wide, panic-stricken eyes darting around the bar, looking for an escape. She shrinks back, clearly not wanting to participate in the competition that every other girl on the stage is enthusiastically joining in on, shimmying their chests back and forth and gaining hoots and hollers from the onlookers.
“Look at that, fellas. Hot damn, I love women! Don’t you?” Harry chuckles into the mic as the crowd presses in closer to the stage.
Before I can stop myself, I place both hands on the stage floor, lifting myself up and standing up as the wood creaks underneath my weight.
“Hey now! I said no touching allowed!” Harry bellows.
I take one step toward Rosie. The other girls around her gasp as they see my face under the brim of my Stetson.
“Holden, you’re out! Why haven’t you come to see me?” a female voice purrs.
I ignore her, reaching out to grab Rosie around the waist, careful not to touch her swaying breasts. She grips my forearm, digging into it with her fingernails. This is my first time to ever intentionally touch her.
“What are you—” she starts.
I lift her up easily, tossing her body over my shoulder before carrying her right down the stairs on the side of the stage like she’s a sack of cow feed. She yelps and kicks against me, which doesn’t slow my stride one bit. The crowd parts for me, a few men giving me knowing nods and slapping each other’s backs with approval. I keep my eyes trained forward, arm locked tight around my cargo.
We finally get outside, the cold air biting against my heated skin. I debate dropping her, but instead, I carry her all the way to the ranch truck Cash drove us here in. The door is unlocked—thank fuck—and I jerk on the handle before throwing her onto the worn leather seat inside.
“Are you out of your fucking mind?” she screams at me, slapping my shoulder.
I grit my teeth, making the mistake of slowly looking up at her, seeing her wet shirt that’s effectively sticking to her large breasts, nipples puckering under the thin, wet fabric. I can see the outline of her areolas, but the fact that every other man in that bar got the same tantalizing view ignites a rage inside me that simmers underneath my skin. They’re perfect, round globes that I’d need much more time and privacy to properly inspect.
I need to get the fuck away from her.
“You’re fired.” The words are out before I have time to think. “You’re not working for Redford Ranch and acting like this in public. It’s unacceptable.”
She gapes at me, blue-green eyes wide and unblinking. “You have no right to fire me. I’m not your employee.”
“I can do whatever the fuck I want when it comes to my family ranch. I’m back, and I’m not going anywhere. There needs to be some changes around here, starting with you, Dixon. You’re gone.”
She blinks then, and I see a pool of moisture building up in her eyes. An invisible pang hits me in the chest. I ignore the feeling as I lean in closer to her ear, her vanilla scent in my nostrils.
“I don’t trust you.” My voice is a low growl, and I’m careful not to touch her again. “Who your father is will never change, and you dating my brother doesn’t mean a damn thing to me. He’ll grow up and see that I’m right. Now that I’m back, I won’t keep letting him make this mistake.”
Her lips part, the cold air visible as she exhales. “You think …” She blinks, swallowing. “Duke and I aren’t together anymore. Did you not know that?” Her voice is growing hoarse as her teeth begin to chatter.
My brow furrows just as Cash, Sterling, Duke, and Dolly all walk up together.
I turn to face my youngest brother. “You broke up?” I need to hear it from him directly.
Duke’s brows shoot up. “Uh, yeah, like, over three years ago. Right after you were locked up.” He glances at Rosie with squinted eyes.
Dolly is gaping at me. “What’s the issue, Holden? It was just a harmless competition. She was about to win!”
I glance down at my little sister’s face. “One you’d better not even think about entering.”
She snorts. “Right, like I’d ever win. Now, if I had Rosie’s set of knockers, then you might have something to worry about.” She laughs, skipping around to the other side of the truck.
Now that I know she’s not in a relationship with my little brother, I feel even stronger about the need to stay as far away from Rosie Dixon as physically possible. I turn back to her, grabbing her knees and tucking them into the truck before slamming the door.
“Let’s go,” I bark.
The collar of my shirt is itching my neck. The muscle I gained from doing prison workouts grew parts of me I didn’t even realize. Even now, I’m waking up at all hours of the night to do one-armed push-ups, pull-ups, and planks. It clears my head when I can’t sleep, which is most nights.
“I need some hard liquor to get through this shit,” Sterling leans over to whisper.
I keep my eyes trained ahead of me, where the mayor stands onstage. Clay Dixon is taking the podium to give a speech that’s full of bullshit and lies, as all politicians do when they’re approaching an election year. My blood is rushing in my ears as I watch him standing above us, still so powerful. Mayor Dixon waves to the crowd. He’s wearing a navy-blue shirt with a bolo tie and a sports coat with a black felt Stetson.
