And I’d succeeded. Not only from the damn rodeo assholes, but from me. The only asshole she’d encountered that night.
Fuck. Some days I wanted to punch myself in the face for those things I’d said. In one moment of testosterone fueled idiocy, I’d gone and screwed everything up. Which meant that now Ethan and I were forced to sit and watch as she ate dinner across from Bob, the biggest douche canoe of them all.
Bridgewater was a small town. Everyone knew everyone, and while Hawk’s Landing was ten miles out, I’d heard all the gossip about this Bob guy. Despite Ethan’s warning about staring, I found myself glaring at the booth where Rachel sat smiling at the asshat.
God, she looked good. Better than at the office. While we weren’t fancy at the guest ranch, her outfits were always conservat
