One Night Charmer

“Not really. It’s just life.”

“So that means you don’t even feel bad about it? About the fact that people are just a bunch of lying tool bags? I feel pretty bad about it.”

“You’ll get over it.”

His words made her feel hollow. Not just her, the world around her. The ground. The sky. Like all the substance, the very foundation, was gone. “What if I don’t?”

“Then it’s going to be a hard road for you. Though you know what? It won’t actually be that hard. You’ve got a lot of money to catch you when you fall. You’ve got your family.”

Except she didn’t. She had walked away. But he wouldn’t understand that, and he wouldn’t believe it.

Silence descended on the cab like a plague of locusts. Oppressive. Heavy. She wanted to think of something to say, and she didn’t want to say anything to him ever again. It was a minefield. He had all the wrong answers. Everything she didn’t want to hear.

“Aren’t bartenders supposed to be encouraging? Aren’t you supposed to smile and nod and say what everybody needs you to say?”

After feeling like she would sit in resolute silence, the words came as a surprise even to her.

“Sorry. I’m out from behind the bar. You use me as a designated driver and you get my honest opinion. People tend not to like my opinions.”

She didn’t believe that was true. Trying to think back on every event she’d ever vaguely circled around him at, she really didn’t believe it was true. If she was sorting through her thoughts correctly, he had a good reputation. He was a nice guy. He showed up at every charity event her family was ever involved in. He provided free drinks, in exchange for publicity of course, but still, he did it at considerable expense to himself.

She remembered about a year and a half ago when the community had come together to rebuild Connor Garrett’s barn. Ace had been there then. Not just helping to rebuild, but providing refreshments.

He was usually smiling.

She wondered where that guy was now.

Maybe he just doesn’t like giving people rides home at one in the morning.

That was fair. Anyone could be grumpy. She was most definitely off her game, so why shouldn’t it be the same for him?

His life was so much simpler than hers anyway. What he had, he had outright, free and clear. He owned a bar, and it was his domain. He did what he wanted to with it. He was able to help people with it. He was high-profile in the community, but he had a certain measure of freedom with it. There was all kinds of acceptance for what he did, no matter what. He had a reputation for sleeping with anything that moved, but it didn’t seem to damage him.

Yeah, he basically had it made. So for all he could say about the evils of people, she’d never seen any evidence that it had touched him.

And it made her think back to his earlier comment about her breaking a nail. How easy he seemed to think things were for her. How soft he seemed to think she was, and it made her angry. He didn’t know. He had no idea.

He turned the truck onto a narrow, paved driveway, the one that led back to her brother’s ranch.

If she was going to say the words that were bubbling up inside of her like boiling water, she had to say them now. And she wanted to. Maybe because she was feeling bold due to the alcohol. But maybe because it was just the right thing to say. Maybe because he needed to hear it.

“Things are easy for you, though,” she said.

“Excuse me?”

“You said my road wouldn’t be that hard, but you’re the one who has it made. You’re a man. A man everyone just kind of gives a pass to. It doesn’t matter what you do. Everyone just kind of accepts it. You can say whatever you want. Like now. You’re giving me a ride home, after being totally condescending. And you don’t even care. Me? I have to watch what I say. I have to... I have to keep up appearances for the family name. You burned that bridge a long time ago. Aren’t you like...a pastor’s kid? And you own a bar now. But if anything, people just kind of laugh at it. How funny, your dad preaches sermons on Sunday to everyone who’s hungover from being at Ace’s place on Saturday night.”

“You can stop talking now, Sierra West,” he said, his tone deadly now. “You don’t know what the hell you’re talking about. You don’t know my life.”

“Maybe not. But you don’t know mine. And you were more than ready to cast judgment on me, Mr. World-Weary, I-Know-People. You think you know me, but you don’t. Maybe nobody does.”

He laughed, and it grated against her skin. It was derisive. Unkind. “Trust me, baby, everybody thinks that. Everybody thinks they’re so unknowable, so complicated. But they aren’t. People are just people, you included. You don’t have any hidden depth to awe and astound me.”

“Stop the car,” she ground out.

“We aren’t there yet,” he said, his voice hard.

“I don’t care. We’re in the driveway. I can walk to the top of it.”

“Right. And I’m going to let you get eaten by a mountain lion now?”

“I’m not going to get eaten by a mountain lion.”

“No, you’re right. He probably won’t eat you. He’ll probably just gnaw on you for a while. But I think I’ll go ahead and keep driving you so that doesn’t happen, either. I’m not going to let anything happen to you.”

She gritted her teeth. “Out of the goodness of your heart?”

“Hell, no. Because I don’t want to deal with any of the fallout that would come from having you get gnawed on on my watch.”

“Asshole.”

“Well, now you know my secret.”

“It’s a poorly kept one. I just had to be around you for about five seconds and it became pretty clear.”

“So we’ve established that I’m an asshole, and you’re a whiny rich girl. You’re going to be very embarrassed by all of this tomorrow. I, on the other hand, won’t.”

That did it. Now she was just pissed. “Embarrassed? Why should I be embarrassed? You’re the one who should be embarrassed.”

“Why?” he asked.

Dammit. She didn’t know why. She had said it, and it had felt strong, and kind of badass, but now she felt like it really wasn’t. Especially since she didn’t have anything to back it up.

“Because—” good one, Sierra “—because, you’re just a bar owner. Serving alcohol and buying mechanical bulls for people to fall off. What is that?”

“Most of the town spends more than a bit of their free time at my humble establishment. And I seem to recall you spending money to ride good old Ferdinand, so I’m going to go ahead and say maybe you shouldn’t throw stones from your glass house.”

“Whatever. Other people grow up and move on from that kind of behavior. You wallow in it. And don’t think I haven’t heard plenty about your reputation with women. You’re just one of those guys. An eternal...frat boy. You were probably hoping to get into my pants.”

“I was very much not hoping for that.”

“So you say.”

He pulled the truck up to the front of her brother’s vast log-cabin-style house. She could see that the porch light was on, probably out of consideration for her. Something Colton had done, she was certain, and not Natalie. Natalie would probably prefer that Sierra not be able to find her way to the front door in the dark.

Natalie wouldn’t mind if Sierra was gnawed on by a mountain lion.

“I’m sexy,” she said, opening the passenger door and stumbling out into the darkness. “And I know it.” Dimly, she was aware that that was a song lyric, and she wasn’t coming across very well.