Monroe
“You need to show more skin,” Cooper says, eyeing my shirt.
Looking down at the black shirt I’ve paired with skinny jeans and my favorite Chucks, I wonder how the hell I’m supposed to show more skin. I was proud of this outfit, considering my wardrobe consists mostly of concert T-shirts, boot-cut jeans, and my favorite pair of Ariats.
“You didn’t say anything about skin,” I tell him. “If I remember correctly, you said a black button-up shirt and jeans.” I look to my co-worker and friend, Sean, for confirmation, and he just shrugs.
Coop nods noncommittally while eyeing my chest. “We’ll have to get you fitted for a uniform top; I don’t have any extras. Until then, what color is your bra?”
I reel back. “Excuse me?”
He sighs and steps toward me. Without asking permission, he unbuttons my top three buttons and pulls my blouse open, revealing the slightest hint of my red lace bra.
“Perfect,” he says.
Heat creeps up my neck, infusing my cheeks, and I look down—not out of embarrassment, but because the sight of Cooper Allen with his hands on my body is almost too much. This has nothing to do with Cooper himself, but his identical twin. Rhett Allen was my first boyfriend, my first love, and the first boy to break my heart. I can’t look at Coop without thinking about Rhett. No matter how hard I try.
I have to give Cooper credit, because while Sean makes a sound of appreciation at my newly exposed state, he doesn’t flinch. As if I’m a painting he’s studying, his eyes sweep across my chest, down my stomach, and land on my hips.
“Lower,” he says.
Grabbing my jeans, I tug them down until the waistband sits indecently low. I hold my arms out to the side, waiting for his approval.
“You look hot,” Sean says, earning a wink from me.
Cooper shakes his head and mumbles something that sounds an awful lot like I can’t believe I’m doing this and My brother is going to kill me, but I ignore it because I don’t care what anyone thinks. Least of all Rhett. I need this job.
My days are spent running my dad’s non-profit, no-kill animal shelter, Animal Haven, and up until tonight I’ve spent my evenings bartending at Broadway Bar and Grill, a pub two towns over. They paid well, and I made fat tips, but after working a day at the shelter, followed by a thirty-minute drive, a six-hour shift at the tavern, and another thirty-minute drive home, I was exhausted.
Needless to say, when Coop offered me a bartending spot at Dirty Dicks, I couldn’t turn it down. The hourly wage is less, but I’m willing to sacrifice that for a little extra sleep each night.
“We’re laid back here. Have fun, keep up with the pace, and you’ll do great.”
“Thanks, Coop. I appreciate this.”
He smiles and nudges my arm. “Don’t mention it. We’re glad to have you. I have a few phone calls to make, but Sean is going to show you the ropes before we get too busy.”
“Follow me.” Sean nods toward the door, and I follow him to the front bar.
I’ve been inside Dirty Dicks more times than I can count. It isn’t the only bar in town, but it’s the most popular, and during my rare moments of free time, this is where I find myself. Knocking back a few with friends and shooting the shit is about the only way to spend a day off in this town—unless of course you’re into bull riding. In that case, you’ll need to drive a couple miles south of town to find a hoard of people every Friday and Saturday night, anxious to watch a slew of young men try their hand at riding a bull.
That was the thing to do back in the day. I was a buckle bunny for sure, but those days bring back too many memories, so I focus on the here and now.
Sean makes quick work of showing me the basics. I’ve worked behind a bar long enough that it doesn’t take much for me to fall into a groove. When the crowd picks up, another bartender joins our crew.
“Sarah,” she says, holding out her hand. I take it for a quick shake.
“Monroe, but you can call me Mo.”
She grabs a pad of paper and stuffs it in her back pocket. “This your first day?”
I nod. “First day here, but not my first time bartending.”
“I hope you wore comfy shoes, because tonight will be crazy.”
“Most weekends are.”
“Tonight is different. Have you heard of Rhett Allen?”
Have I heard of Rhett Allen? I’ve only spent the last six years trying to forget him. But she doesn’t need to know that. “Yeah, we went to school together.”
Her smile is bright and mischievous. “Lucky you.”
“What does Rhett have to do with tonight being crazy?” As far as I know Rhett hasn’t set foot in this town in well over a year and has no plans of doing so anytime soon. At least that’s what Coop tells me, and he should know.
“Rumor has it Rhett signed up for a bonus ride.” She nods toward the two TVs against the wall. “The entire town is expected to pile in for the occasion.”
“Lovely.”
“Sarah, get out on the floor. Table two needs refills,” Coop instructs, appearing from the back.
With a quick smile and even quicker step, she’s off, and I turn to Coop.
“You could’ve told me tonight was going to be swarming with Rhett Allen fans,” I say, lifting a brow.
“It’s cute when you pretend not to be one,” he chides, winking before shoving me toward my end of the bar.
The next few hours fly by in a flurry of activity as I do my best to keep my eyes off the TVs. First, I served a socialite and her glittery posse celebrating…hell, I don’t know what they were celebrating. All I know is they were fat tippers and brought a hoard of hot guys to my end of the bar. She and her posse eventually dissipated, leaving me with a beautiful view of Heaven’s sexiest cowboy bachelors. At least I think they’re bachelors—they’d better be, considering they’re flirting their asses off and asking to take me home. Lucky for me I’m able to stand my ground, refusing to melt under their heated gazes. They too eventually fade and are replaced by a pair of men who have made it their life’s mission to make me laugh. And as much as I appreciate their effort, I’m dying for this night to end. I am beat, and if I hear one more woman fawn over how tight Rhett’s ass looks in a pair of Wranglers, I’m going to scream.
“Wait, let me try again!” The slurred voice tugs me back to the land of the living.
“Oh no.” Shaking my head, I laugh, fighting back a yawn. “You’ve had four chances.”
“Come on,” Bill begs. Or is it Bob? Braeden, maybe? Shit, I can’t even remember. There are too many men here to keep track of, and unfortunately for me, they’re all good looking.
I hold up a finger. “One more chance, but you better recruit some help because this is make-it-or-break-it time.”
He turns toward his buddy as I hustle down the bar to wait on another customer.
When I return, he smacks his hands together. “We’ve got it!”
Cooper walks up behind and claps him on the shoulder. “The only thing you’ve got is a ride home. I’m calling you an Uber.”
He completely ignores Cooper. “You ready?” His glossy eyes are twinkling, and I almost feel bad for him, because he really does think he has a shot with me. If this were a normal day, and I were a normal girl, maybe he would. But that’s a big if, and I’m far from normal.
I barely have time to sleep, shower, and eat, let alone date. And my heart…forget about it. I gave that traitorous organ away years ago, and the damn thing never came back.
“Last chance,” I say, tossing a towel over my shoulder. Leaning against the bar, I give him my full attention. “Better make it good.”
Squaring his shoulders, he sits up straight, only he isn’t straight at all. He’s leaning to the left, and I hope Cooper really did call an Uber for him.
“Feel this shirt.” He gives me a lopsided smile, and I raise my eyebrows, waiting for the punch line. “Know what it’s made of?”
I shake my head, and his smile widens.
“Boyfriend material.”
It takes everything I have not to laugh, and not because the pick-up line is funny or unique, because it’s not—it’s cheesy. But the look on his face… He looks like one of the dogs at my shelter, sitting at my feet, waiting for a treat. But I’ve mastered the ability to deal with drunk, horny men, and I’m able to stifle my giggle.
Shrugging, I frown.
“Fuuuck.” Dropping his head to his hands, he groans.
“Jace, dude, what was that?” Cooper asks, giving him a perplexed look.
Jace! That’s his name.
“Don’t tell me you actually use that line on women.”
“If you think that was lame, you should’ve heard the first four,” I mumble.
Cooper slaps Jace on the back and laughs.
His head rolls to the side toward Cooper. “All I had to do was make her laugh and she said she’d consider going out with me.”
“And you had five chances,” I add.
“I did.” His head nods like a damn bobblehead. “I failed five times. Can you believe it? This angel here could’ve been my new girlfriend.” He waves his arm toward me. “I would’ve given her the world. I would’ve given you the world,” he repeats, facing me.
“Maybe you can try again next time,” I offer.
“Come on, let’s get you out of here.” Cooper grips Jace’s arm to help him up, but Jace shrugs him off.
“Not yet. I can’t go home before Rhett’s bonus ride.”
“Fine.” Cooper holds out his hand. “But no more drinks, and I’m going to need your keys.”
“Done.” Digging in his pocket, Jace retrieves his keys and tosses them to Coop, who tosses them to me.
I drop the keys in the cash drawer and rush to fill another order. That’s when I hear the announcer on the TV.
“Lucifer has what seems to be an insurmountable resume with twenty-one straight buck-offs, but tonight that could all change as three-time world champion Rhett Allen prepares for the ride of his life. That’s right, Mike, and if anyone can pull this off, it’s Rhett…”
I glance between the TV and my customers as the announcer goes through a series of statistics, but when Rhett comes into view, I can’t help but stop and stare.
Turns out the entire bar feels the same way.
Scuffed-up cowboy boots, jeans, leather chaps, flannel shirt, and his trusty ol’ Stetson make Rhett Allen one of the most ruggedly handsome men I’ve ever seen. Dark brown hair curls out from under his hat, and his blue eyes shine bright under the spotlight.
I’m proud of Rhett and his accomplishments, as is the entire town, but I can’t deny that part of me is bitter about the success he’s found. Maybe it’s because he chased his dream while mine slipped away, I think to myself. Or maybe it’s because his dream stopped including me when I so desperately wanted it to. Either way, it’s a feeling I hate and one I don’t have time to dwell on, so I quickly push the thoughts away.
Cooper climbs up on the end of the bar with his cell phone in hand. He’s been known to videotape the crowd for Rhett. “Hey, everybody,” he yells, gathering the bar’s attention. “Say hi to Rhett.” A wave of hands goes up, and a few people shout out. When the camera makes its way across the sea of people to me, I smile and flip it off. Peeking at me from behind his phone, Coop winks. He redirects the camera toward the crowd as Rhett mounts the bull.
I hold my breath the same way I do every time I watch Rhett give the nod. The gate opens, and Lucifer propels himself forward, bucking and whipping his back end from side to side as he tries his best to throw Rhett off.
A sharp turn to the right causes Rhett to lose his balance, and I gasp as he slides precariously to the side. Somehow, by the grace of God, he’s able to hold on, but it doesn’t last long. Another high kick and sharp turn toss Rhett’s body like a ragdoll, catapulting him toward the harsh, unforgiving ground, and the entire room goes silent. Blood rushes through my ears, my heart drops to the pit of my stomach, and the only thing I can think of is getting to him. Talking to Rhett. Finding out if Rhett is okay.
Adrenaline pushes me forward, and I jump over the bar and rush toward the TV as the crowd around me starts to bustle. All I can see is Rhett’s lifeless body lying on the ground as a team of people coax the bull out of the arena.
Why aren’t you moving, Rhett?
“Why isn’t he moving?” I ask, looking frantically around the room, as though someone here should be helping him. “He should be moving, right?” I turn back toward the TV. “Damnit, Rhett,” I growl. “I need you to move. Fucking move already. He’s so still. Why aren’t they helping? They need to do something.”
The TV cuts to a commercial, and the room erupts in chatter.
My eyes burn as the first tear falls, followed by several more. Desperate and wild, I turn toward the back of the bar. Cooper’s arms hang limp at his sides. The phone in his hand slips out of his grasp, landing on the bar at his feet, and I rush toward him.
“Coop,” I cry. My heart is going crazy as every worst-case scenario flashes through my mind. My hands shake uncontrollably as I wait for him to look at me. “He’s going to be okay. He has to be.”
Cooper’s eyes finally find mine. He climbs down off the bar, pulls me into his arms, and holds me. His heart beats wildly against my cheek, and when his phone rings, I pull back.
With one arm still wrapped tight around my shoulders, he grabs his phone from the bar.
“It’s my dad,” he whispers, bringing the phone to his ear.
For the second time tonight I hold my breath.
“Please tell me he’s alive,” Coop says as he answers.