Total pages in book: 28
Estimated words: 26221 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 131(@200wpm)___ 105(@250wpm)___ 87(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 26221 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 131(@200wpm)___ 105(@250wpm)___ 87(@300wpm)
Danny bristles, his eyes narrowing on Jessup. "How about you fuck off back to your bunk and watch how you speak to me, ranchhand?"
Jessup's gaze flicks from him to me. "You mind taking a step back for me, beautiful?"
"I…what?"
"Take a step back," he murmurs.
I frown, stepping away from the speed rail toward the back bar, though I'm not entirely sure why.
"Appreciate that," Jessup says with a wink that makes my stomach flutter.
It immediately sinks into my shoes when he clamps his hand down on Danny's arm, yanking him up from the stool hard enough to send it toppling.
Danny whirls with a grunt, already swinging.
The entire bar goes silent before erupting into a chorus of shouts and cheers, like this is an elementary schoolyard.
I gape in shock as a full-on brawl between them erupts in two seconds flat. Danny is stockier, but Jessup is faster. I can't even process the way they throw their weight around, but there's no mistaking the sound of fists landing.
Several cowboys wade in to break them up, but they don't seem very interested in stopping. They're all muscle and aggression, fueled by alcohol, though I never saw Jessup drink a drop.
It's so loud, I can't even hear myself think.
So I do the only thing I can think to do, instead.
I grab the water sprayer from the sink, aiming it directly at the two of them.
Cold water sprays in an arc, soaking them, the cowboys trying to break them up, the bartop, the floor…everything.
Jessup and Danny go down in a heap, taking two other cowboys with them. For a moment, shocked silence ripples across the bar.
"That's enough!" I shout, the water still trained on the two of them. "If you're going to fight, you aren't going to do it in here."
"Good god, woman," a middle-aged cowboy splutters, trying to shield his face. "Quit drownin' us!"
"You done fighting?" I ask, my eyes on Jessup and Danny.
Danny's eye is swollen. Jessup is bleeding from a tiny cut on his cheek. They're both soaked and panting for breath. Danny's expression is thunderous. But Jessup? He's sprawled on the floor, legs crossed, his weight on his elbows, just grinning at me, not even trying to shield himself from the water.
"That's enough," Danny growls.
"Guess we're done," Jessup says with an amused shrug.
I reluctantly let my finger off the trigger for the sprayer, breathing like I just ran a race.
The place is a disaster. Danny's beer is spilled across the top of bar, running in rivulets down both sides. Water is pooled on the wooden floor. A table and several chairs and stools are overturned.
Redd is going to lose his mind when he hears about this.
"You two, get out," I growl, pointing a shaking finger toward the doors. "Right now."
"You're going to kick your man out now, beautiful?" Jessup says, smirking as he hauls himself to his feet with the grace of a big, brawny cat.
I narrow my eyes at him. "I'd kick my own mother out if she made a mess like this," I snap at him. "Get out of my bar right now."
Jessup glances around at the mess, his expression sheepish. "You want me to clean it up for you?"
"I want you to leave." I level a glare at Danny. "You, too."
"Already on my way," he mutters, allowing two of his buddies to haul him up. "You ruined my hat."
"And you made a mess of my bar."
"He started it."
I aim the water sprayer at him again. "You want me to spray you again?" I ask sweetly. "Because it kinda sounds like you do."
The way he looks at me with pure venom glinting in his steely eyes confirms my suspicions about him. Danny Palmer is not a good man. He just cosplays as one.
But he holds up his hands in a show of surrender before stomping toward the doors with his hat in his hands, leaving a trail of water in his wake.
Jessup waits until he's gone to look at me.
"Out, Jessup," I order. "Now."
"Yes, ma'am." He tips his wet hat at me with another grin before sauntering for the doors. Unlike Danny, he doesn't seem to mind that he's drenched from head to toe. He just strolls out, humming to himself.
I wait until he's gone to drop the sprayer back into the sink, my heart pounding a million miles a minute. What the fuck just happened?
"Uh…Harlow?" Johnny Grisholm says from the far end of the bar. "Is now a bad time to ask for another beer?"
I shoot him a death glare.
"Right," he mumbles, hunching down on his stool. "I'll just…shut the fuck up already."
"Excellent choice," I growl.
Chapter Three
Wade
Idon't go back to the ranch, though I probably should. Instead, I linger in the parking lot, waiting for Harlow's shift to end. It's warm enough that I dry after a while, though my socks are still damp and uncomfortable as hell.