Vicki Thompson - Riding Hard

“I’m Regan’s friend.” Her gaze turned very cold. “I’m also friends with his sisters. If you think my attitude is chilly, you should try having a conversation with Morgan, Tyler or Cassidy.”

“Yeah, I figured that wouldn’t work out, so I haven’t tried.”

“I know everything’s supposed to be hunky-dory between you and Regan. Lily told me all is well, but she’s the kind of person who would make excuses for a serial killer.”

“A serial killer? Isn’t that a bit harsh?”

“I know you haven’t actually killed anyone, but you betrayed your best friend.” Anger kindled in her brown eyes. “If you ask me, Regan’s letting you off way too easy.” Then she blushed and glanced away. “Sorry. I get a little worked up when I talk about this. It’s really none of my business.”

He thought she was mighty pretty when she was worked up, but he wisely didn’t say so. “I get the impression that it’s everybody’s business around here.”

She didn’t deny it, probably because she couldn’t. When she looked at him again, her gaze was disconcertingly direct. “Why stay, then? You patched things up with Regan, so why not go back to Virginia where...where you’re from.”

Where you belong. Although she didn’t say the words, they hung in the air. Except he didn’t belong in Virginia anymore. He couldn’t explain why, but the thought of returning to his old life made him shudder. Whoever he’d been back there wasn’t the man he wanted to be here and now. The location might have nothing to do with it, but he wasn’t going to take the chance that he’d fall into his old patterns.

He shrugged. “I must be a glutton for punishment.”

Something shifted in her expression. It became more open, and unless he was mistaken, she seemed genuinely interested in him for the first time ever. “I see.”

“What do you see?”

“That you’re doing some kind of penance.”

“I wouldn’t put it that way.” The assessment made him uncomfortable. He wasn’t a masochist or a martyr.

“You just called yourself a glutton for punishment.”

“That’s an expression, something folks say. It doesn’t mean that I—”

“Hey, Drake!”

Intensely grateful for the interruption, he swiveled to face Regan, who came toward him looking like the seasoned cowboy he’d become, complete with boots, worn jeans and a ten-gallon hat. Drake had bought some boots and a couple of pairs of jeans that still looked new. He was holding off buying a hat. He couldn’t say why.

He held out a hand to Regan. “Hey, buddy! What’s up?”

“Not much.” Regan shook hands, but the dark eyes he’d inherited from his Italian mother moved quickly from Drake to Tracy. “Am I interrupting?”

“Nope!” Tracy waved her order pad. “I have to put in Drake’s food order and check on my other customers. Can I bring you something?”

“I’ll take a draft when you have a minute. I actually came in to see you, but I wanted to ask Drake a favor, too, so this is perfect.”

“All righty, then. I’ll be back.” She hurried toward the kitchen.

Regan slid onto a barstool on Drake’s right. “Did I interrupt something? You both looked mighty serious.”

“Not really. I made a dumb remark and she picked up on it.”

“What’d you say?”

“She wondered why I’m stayin’ here when nobody likes me, and I—”

“Hang on.” Regan shoved back the brim of his Stetson. “She actually said that nobody likes you? That doesn’t sound like Tracy.”

“Actually I’m the one who said that, but she didn’t disagree with me. You have to admit I’m not the toast of Shoshone, Wyoming.”

“Maybe not yet.”

“Maybe not ever. You have loyal friends who don’t forgive easily. I understand that. Tracy asked a logical question, and I gave her a flip answer.”

“Like what?”

“I said maybe I was a glutton for punishment.”

“Oh, boy.” Regan chuckled. “I’ll bet that got her attention.”

“It did, but why are you so sure it would?”

“She’s studying to be a psychologist, but don’t mention that I told you.”

“Why? What’s the big secret?”

“It’s not actually a secret. As you’ve discovered, gossip is a favorite pastime in this little town.”

Drake pretended to be shocked. “Really?”

“Yeah, yeah. Anyway, people kind of know because she keeps her books behind the bar and studies when it’s not busy in here. But she’s not ready to announce it to the world. I think she’s worried that she doesn’t have the intellectual chops to pull it off.”

“You’re kidding.” Drake thought of her efficiency and the intelligence shining in those brown eyes. “She’s smart as a whip. Anyone can see that.”

“Yeah, but nobody in her family has ever set foot on a college campus. She’s only taken online classes so far, and she probably doesn’t want to make a big deal out of this and then fail.”

“She won’t fail.”

Regan smiled. “Spoken like a man who always knew he’d end up with a degree and a profession. She doesn’t have that kind of background, and she has doubts.”

“Well, she shouldn’t, but I see your point.” He paused. “Wait, are you saying she was trying to psychoanalyze me? That’s all I need.”

“At least it would be free.”

Drake skewered his friend with a look and discovered Regan was working hard not to laugh. “It’s not funny, damn it. I might need a shrink, but I sure as hell don’t need a shrink in training. I’m messed up enough without accidentally gettin’ the wrong advice.”

“I wouldn’t discount Tracy’s insights. She’s spent a lot of hours behind this bar, and she has a knack for reading people. She can’t officially hang out a shingle until she graduates and gets licensed, but she has excellent instincts.”

“Mmm.” Drake didn’t like this discussion any more than the one he’d been having with Tracy. He took another swig of beer.

“Look, you told me you wanted to get your head on straight while you’re here. You could do worse than talk things over with Tracy.”

“I beg to differ.” Drake sighed. “Besides, aren’t psychologists supposed to be nonjudgmental?”

“Yeah, I suppose so.”

“Then Tracy didn’t get the memo. She believes what I did was heinous and she’s not cuttin’ me any slack. I hardly think she’s the person to help me.”

“Okay, maybe not. I’m not sure why, but I know infidelity is a hot button for her.”

Drake winced as he always did when that word came up. He’d willingly participated in an act of infidelity. Even though liquor had been involved, which created some sort of lame excuse, the sharpness of what he’d done couldn’t be filed down, and it still cut deep.

“So I guess it’s not such a good idea,” Regan said. “Forget I mentioned it.”

“I surely will. Besides, there’s another factor that makes the idea a nonstarter.”

“What?”

“I think she’s hot.”

“Oh.” Regan’s glance slid past Drake and focused on a spot over his shoulder. “Here she comes. I’d advise you to keep that information to yourself.”

“Don’t worry. I’m not about to make myself vulnerable to a woman who thinks I’m pond scum.”

“She doesn’t think that.”

“I’ll guarantee she does.” Drake swiveled his stool back around and smiled at Tracy.

Her mouth responded with an obligatory upward tilt, but the rest of her face was devoid of emotion. Then she looked at Regan, and everything changed. “Here’s your beer and some peanuts in case you get the munchies.” She’d never offered Drake peanuts.

“Thanks.” Regan pushed the bowl toward Drake. “Want some?”