The knuckles on my right hand stung, and my jaw ached where that Blaine asshole had gotten in a lucky shot with his elbow. I was still vibrating with barely controlled rage. The dumbass was howling about lawsuits and holding paper towels to his still bleeding nose while the bonfire crowd had thinned to just lookie-loos.

Cassidy was standing near the fire, rubbing her arms with her hands and talking with Scarlett and June. I wanted to go check on her. Make sure she was okay. But Sheriff Tucker was headed in my direction and he didn’t look too happy.

“Bowie,” he said.

“Sir.”

“Things get a little out of hand tonight?” he asked.

We had a nice little arrangement going. We partiers kept our bonfires civil and made everyone walk home. Then the police didn’t have to get involved with checking everyone’s IDs and arresting people. Now I’d gone and ruined it. Technically, the jackwagon with the busted nose had ruined it. But he’d get to go home to his regular life, and I’d be stuck here in Bootleg.

Would this mess cost me my job in the fall? Had I disappointed Sheriff Tucker?

Why was it that I couldn’t keep my head on straight around Cassidy Tucker? It was not an appropriate question to ask her father.

“A little, sir,” I agreed.

“You wanna tell me your side of it or should I go with his version where you jumped out of the dark at him and tried to mug him?”

I smirked, and it hurt my lip. “He was getting handsy with one of the girls, threatening to throw her in the lake. She said no. He didn’t listen.”

“One of the girls?” the sheriff asked.

We both knew who I was talking about, but he was going to make me say her name anyway.

“Cassidy, sir.”

He stroked his finger and thumb over the corners of his mustache. “Am I going to have to give my daughter a refresher course on self-defense?”

I shook my head, covering a smile. “No, sir. I think she can handle herself.”

“But you stepped in.”

The man had me there. Why did I have the feeling the confession he was trying to get out of me wasn’t about an assault?

“I was…angry that he wasn’t being respectful.”

Sheriff Tucker nodded in understanding. “I appreciate you looking out for my daughter. I really do. You’re a good man, Bowie.”

Something warmed inside me. “Thank you, sir.”

He wiped his palms over the knees of his pants and sighed like he had the weight of the world sitting on his chest. “Son, I hate to do this. But I’m gonna need to ask you to give Cassidy some space. She doesn’t seem to be capable of giving you any. So it falls to you. She’s young. She’s still in school. You’ve got your hands full with your family and now your job. I don’t want something derailing you both.”

The something warm iced over into a chunk of ice in my gut.

“Sir, I didn’t mean to be disrespectful—”

“Bowie, you’re the most respectful person in this whole damn town. I know you’ve got strong feelings for her. And I know it’s not fair, but I’m asking you not to act on those feelings. Things happen. People make mistakes. They get hitched up to the wrong people at the wrong time—”

“I understand,” I said, cutting him off. My heart limped in my chest. The man I’d spent my entire life looking up to, the one who’d driven me to take my driver’s license test and taken me out for pizza to celebrate afterward because my own father had been too drunk to do it, didn’t think I was good enough for his daughter.

Something hot and hard lodged itself in my throat. Despair. An anger so white-hot I wondered why it didn’t burn its way out.

No matter what degree I had, no matter how hard I worked, I was still Jonah Bodine’s son.