Socialite and the Cowboy

I look at the T-bone that had once been cooked to perfection and now is starting to coagulate into a hard, fatty mess. “I’ll pass.”

The guys exchange looks varying between exasperation and annoyance.

“Great. I’ll have it,” exclaims Sterling and reaches past Blake to grab my plate.

Seeing someone take something of mine doesn’t sit right with me. I slam my knife down between Sterling’s fingers. “That’s my lunch, son. I worked eight hours already, and I deserve a meal.”

“You said you’d pass.”

“I changed my mind.” I jerk my chair out and take a seat.

“I wish you’d go to Dallas and bring Birdie back. You’re unbearable right now,” Cane mutters.

“Maybe you should go on a vacation,” Tucker suggests.

“A long one,” Blake chimes in.

I glare at each one, stopping with Sterling, who has yet to voice an opinion. “Got anything to say?” I stick my chin out.

If I thought he was going to back down, I didn’t know him at all. “We should do a trade. One Calder Justice for one Birdie. We’ll have someone nice and friendly around, and Dallas can have one more asshole.”

Blake chokes on his water. Cane looks at the ceiling, not wanting to see me massacre our young cousin. Tucker places a hand close to my arm as if he wants to be close in case he needs to stop me. Sterling, on the other hand, merely lifts his chin as I stare steadily at him. Guess he’s growing up.

I place my hands on the table and push back the chair. “I’m going to Dallas,” I announce. “But I’ll be back.”

Sterling slumps in relief while Cane and Blake clap and cheer.

“Finally,” Tucker declares.

“You were the number one supporter of the save Birdie campaign,” I remind him with a scowl. “What the hell happened?”

He shrugs. “You’re like a bear with a needle in your paw. It’s hard living with you at the moment. Half the staff is on the verge of quitting, and it’s only because they like the rest of us that you still have dinner on the table and clean sheets, otherwise there would’ve been a strike days ago. What made you change your mind?”

“We all gotta die someday.”

Letting Birdie leave the ranch was the worst decision I’ve ever made, and if I allowed that mistake to go unrectified, I deserved to be miserable. This morning when I woke up and the bed was cold and the clouds were dark, I came to the realization it’s pure foolishness to allow some whacked notion of curses control my life. I’ll lay the risks out for Birdie, and she can decide. Living has dangers, and all of them are worth it if I can spend one more hour with Birdie.

It takes longer for me to fight through Dallas traffic to get to Birdie’s showroom than it did to fly in.

A stream of well-dressed Dallas socialites tumble out of the elevator. They eye me with suspicion and a certain amount of female hunger that raises the hairs on my neck. I doff my Stetson. “Off to see my woman,” I say to ward off the unwanted interest.

One of them reaches out to flick the collar of my shirt. “Too bad. Call me if she turns you away.” She slides a piece of paper into my pocket before I can escape into the elevator car. I pull the paper out and drop it in the trash when I exit the car. A tiny bell tinkles as I pull open the heavy glass door to the entrance of Birdie’s salon. It’s busy inside, and all the women set my teeth on edge.

“Can I help yo—" Frederick stops halfway through his greeting. “What are you doing here?”

“Came to collect something of mine.”

“She’s not a possession and you can’t just barge in here—”

I push past him and reach for the door to the back room.

“Hey,” he calls after me, but I keep walking until I reach Birdie. My girl rises from her seat, her hand pressed to her stomach.

“What are you doing here?” she asks.

“You sick?” I stare at her hand.

She drops it quickly to her side. “No. Why would you say that?”

“No reason.” I glance around for her purse and spot it on a side table. I grab it and tuck it under my arm. “Get your laptop. Let’s go.”

“Go where?”

“To the ranch.”

“You kicked me out!”

“I made a mistake, and now I’m rectifying it.”

“Did Frederick call you?” She eyes me with suspicion.

I unplug her laptop and stuff the charger into the purse. “No. What else do you need?” I survey the room. There’s a lot of stuff in here. I can’t take it all right now. “I’ll send someone to pack everything up.”

“Is it because I’m pregnant?”

My head whips back to her. “You’re what?”

She claps her hands over her ears. “Stop yelling!”

The door bursts open. Frederick flies in. “What’s going on in here? We can hear you out there.”