Southern Secrets (Southern 7)

Quinn, Mayson, and Ethan stand there with their legs apart and their arms over their chest as they watch us. I clap my hands, looking over at Chelsea. "Your man is angry looking."

"He’s all bark and no bite," she says, laughing as the music starts.

Willow stands at the end, talking to Emily, who just shrugs her shoulder. "Just follow those two."

When Gretchen starts singing, we do two steps to the front of the dance floor, and I see that Asher is there watching. His eyes are on me as I kick up one leg and dance backward to get to the middle. We clap our hands and start dancing to the left, then spinning to go back to the right. The crowd goes wild. We redo the steps over again, and this time, more people join us on the dance floor, even some of the men.

When it finally finishes, we get a round of applause, and I walk back to the bar. Asher is there, and he hands me a water bottle. "Thank you."

He doesn’t say anything to me. He just nods his head, and he looks a little bit angry. "Cowboy," the blonde calls him over, and he claps his hands and walks over to them. He laughs and shakes his head as he puts one arm on the bar.

My family is back at the front of the bar when I walk to them. "What are we talking about?" Ethan says to the group, leaning on the bar.

"How Asher spent the whole week repairing your grandparents’ fence around their property," Mayson says, and my head snaps to the side to look at Asher. As he pours six more shots for the women, my heart is beating so hard in my chest it’s a wonder I can hear anything at this point.

"He worked his ass off fourteen, sometimes fifteen hours a day," Ethan says, shaking his head.

"He had no choice. If he didn’t show up early enough, Billy was out there with his tractor," Mayson says, shaking his head. "He even called me a pussy when I showed up at six a.m."

"That is where he went this whole week?" I mumble under my breath.

Asher comes back over and looks at us. "What’s wrong?" he asks, looking at me.

"You built a fence with my grandfather?" I ask, and he just shrugs.

"He needed help," Asher says. "I had time to spare."

"Why are you lying?" Quinn says, shaking his head.

"I’m not lying," he says, pushing away from the bar and walking over to the other side of the bar.

"He worked one day from three a.m., took a break for breakfast, and then worked until nine at night," Quinn says. "And still did his rounds to all the farms."

"Well, he did get a fucking great tan," Mayson says, leaning on the bar.

I don’t say anything because all I can do is look at him as he serves a couple of women and smiles at them politely. They both check him out when he walks away from them and then look at each other and share a giggle. He comes back over to us, and he has no idea what he does to these women.

"Can we get some more shots over here?" the girls ask Asher, and I know I have to get away for a bit and clear my head.

"I’m going to make my rounds and make sure everything is okay," I tell Chelsea, and she nods. I walk out of the bar, and I catch Asher watching me as I head over to the sports bar. I open the door and see that people are starting to leave as the game just finished.

"Is everything okay?" Reed says from beside me with a gray bin in his hand. He stands six foot two, wearing blue jeans and a black shirt. He’s filled out in the last couple of years.

"How is the ice situation?" I ask.

"Half full," he says. "I’m about to take out the trash."

"I got it," I say. "Finish cleaning the tables in the sports room so she can close up as soon as the rest of the people leave."

"Don’t pick up anything heavy," Reed tells me, and I laugh at him.

"I could probably bench-press you," I say, and he laughs.

"Yeah, you and Chelsea together," he says, and I just shake my head. I walk around the bar, picking up some trash on my way to the back.

I tie one of the big black bags and lift it out of the bin. I walk over to the back door, pushing it open with my ass as I walk out into the cool air. The two spotlights in the back are out, and I look up, shaking my head. "Fuck," I say as I walk over to the dumpster all the way at the end of the property. My head is down while I walk, and when I look up, all I feel is a burning sensation to my head, and everything goes black.