Done and Dusted (Rebel Blue Ranch, #1)

by Lyla Sage

“And your family is my family, Emmy, so even if you weren’t in my bar, you would be my business. You’ve always been my business, and you’ll always be my business.”

I pulled her into my arms and lowered us to the ground. I held her tight to my chest and started gently rocking back and forth. I felt her tears dampening my shirt.

When it came to Emmy, I was playing with fire, but I would happily walk into the flames for her. And I’d have a smile on my face the whole damn time.

And don’t even get me started on the fucking backward baseball cap he was sporting today. Damn. Damn. Damn. Damn. You are weak, Clementine Ryder, I thought to myself. One backward baseball cap, and I was throwing all my opinions on muscle tees out the window. And my opinions on Luke Brooks were being thrown out with them. He must’ve heard my boots on the dirt because he looked up from his task. He smiled as big as he could, but he was holding a nail between his teeth, keeping it handy if he needed it.

“There she is,” he said.

There was one bonfire night where I saw Emmy mucking it up with a guy who lived a town over and was older than me. Emmy was seventeen, so he was being a fucking creep. When he got up to go get her a drink, I went up to him and told him if he ever looked at her again, he’d be sorry.

“This place is mine. You’re the first person I’ve brought here.”

Brooks broke the surface shortly after me and used my hand that he was still holding to pull me to him. I instinctively wrapped my legs around his waist and felt my stomach flip.

He was looking at me that way again. Like I was the only person on the planet like I was the only thing that mattered.

I didn’t think before I swung my front door back open, ready to chase after him. But I found Brooks right where I’d left him. But now, his chest was heaving like he had left and run back, and his arm was raised like he was about to knock.

The three of us chatted for a while longer before Hank clapped his tattooed hands together. He had “theo” on one set of knuckles and “dora” on the other. He was covered in tattoos, but I knew those were Teddy’s favorite, even though she never went by Theodora.

The duality of Teddy was that she could simultaneously be the center of attention while constantly focusing on other people’s needs and comfort.

My eyes were always on Emmy.

I kept an eye on Emmy throughout the night. Not in a creepy way–just in a “I really like you and think you’re the most beautiful woman alive” way.

“Take your fucking hand off her.” Double Denim’s eyes shot up to me. He looked surprised, but he didn’t move. “Now.”

He scrambled back up and came at me. I caught his fist in my hand—he threw a weak-ass punch—and twisted his arm behind his back. He was facing Emmy, but I made sure he wasn’t close enough that he could touch her. “Apologize,” I spat. “What the fuck, dude. What the hell is wrong with you?!” “Apologize,” I said again. Double Denim tried to turn back and look at me, but I tightened my grip on his arm and twisted. He looked back at Emmy, whose jaw was set and lips were pursed. “I’m sorry,” Double Denim ground out. “Now get the fuck out of my bar.” I pushed him into his friends, who all looked like they’d just shit themselves.

“Thirsty? Are you still thirsty, sugar?” She nodded. “Open your mouth,” I commanded. She opened immediately, and my already hard cock jerked at the sight of her open mouth, ready to take anything I gave her. I took a pull of the whiskey before setting the bottle on my desk, but I didn’t swallow. I leaned into Emmy, my hand on her throat still keeping her pinned to my office door, and spit the whiskey in her mouth.

“Do you think insulting my bar skills is going to change my mind?” “Depends on what you’re into,” she said coyly. “Just you.”

Emmy Ryder might have been in like with me, but it was then that I knew I was falling in love with her.

“What makes you say that?” I tried to be nonchalant. It took a few beats for my dad to answer, and when he did, I wasn’t quite sure what to think about it. “Nothing goes on at Rebel Blue that I don’t know about, Spud.”

Just like the kitchen slow dance he surprised me with a few days ago.

“Sugar, you deserve to go out on your own terms. Just because you got dusted doesn’t mean you’re done.”

“What’s wrong, sugar? Are you having another panic attack?” I shook my head. I wasn’t. “I just needed you.” “I’m here.”