Dallas stares evenly at me. He knows by now it’s best to just let me get it all out, otherwise my best friend and I will come to blows on his wedding day and he will go on the fancy honeymoon OK! magazine paid for in order to get Dallas Walker’s exclusive wedding photos, with a shiner or a busted mouth.

There’s a reason you don’t ever see two alpha males in a pack. It’s really nothing short of mind-blowing that he and I have yet to actually lay each other out.

“How many?”

Dallas raises his eyebrows instead of speaking.

“How many drug addicts are coming by there? How many of them are using her for free child care while they go out and get high and then come back wasted if they come back at all? How many local junkies know where she lives?”

He shrugs and glances over to where, speak of the angel, Dixie is making her way over to us with shaving cream on her hands. “A couple. Two that I know of for sure. McKinley keeps an eye out. I know you don’t like him but he’s good people. He cares about her.”

Kick me while I’m down, why don’t you.

“McKinley’s pop is crooked as they come, Dallas. I don’t know what Jaggerd knows or doesn’t know, but they’re not exactly salt of the earth. Trust me.”

“Not everyone is out to hurt her, man. And in fact, if we want to get technical, the only person I know that has really hurt her so far is . . .”

“Thanks for the reminder.”

“You’re welcome.” Dallas tilts his head to the side as she gets closer. “For the record, I should kick your ass. But I’m going to tell myself that you’re both adults and you can work this out on your own. That’s what I brought you out here for. To tell you that you’re the only one that can find out the truth about whether or not she really wants to give Leaving Amarillo one more shot and if the contest at the bar is worth entering. I think this could be our last chance and we’ll regret it for the rest of our lives if we don’t take it. And hearing her sing like that tonight, I wish I’d known she was interested in singing more, and I would’ve added in that layer with our band. But I won’t push her if she isn’t ready. Pretty sure the only thing holding her back is, well . . . you.”

“Great. No pressure then.”

Dallas nods. “So there’s that. And also, Afton Tate should be here any second now. Robyn’s a big fan so he’s coming straight here after a concert in Oklahoma to sing us off onto our honeymoon.”

“Fantastic. I can hardly wait.”

Dallas smirks at my tone. “If you ask real nice he’ll probably give you an autograph. Maybe sign your tits.”

“Eat a dick, Dallas.”

Between McKinley and Tate, if I don’t end up drunk or high or screwing a random waitress tonight, it will literally be a miracle. My nerves are frayed as fuck and what I really want is to toss the woman coming my way over my shoulder and tell everyone else to back the hell off.

“Come on, boys. Robyn’s changing into her leaving dress!” Dixie flicks remnants of shaving cream off her fingers in our direction.

She’s lucky it’s not whipped cream or I would be following through on my desire to carry her ass out of here.

“Come see me off, man. Throw some rice or blow some bubbles or whatever Robyn picked out. Relax for a change.” Dallas shoulder-checks me as we walk. “I’ll be back in one week. I’ll expect an answer when I return about the battle. Whatever she decides, whatever she wants, we respect that, okay?”

“Always,” I answer honestly.

My mind whirs back to what feels like a lifetime ago, when I had her in my arms so wet and warm and willing in the bathroom.

I meant what I said. I will always respect what she wants. Even when she wants all the wrong things.

7 | Dixie

“YOU HAVE A good time tonight?”

I shrug off Jag’s question because what can I say? I had an awful time until Gavin almost screwed me on the bathroom counter. Then we got interrupted and I bailed because I couldn’t face him after humiliating myself like that.

Seems like TMI for the moment.

“It was nice. I’m just tired is all,” I tell him. “You?”

Jaggerd is usually pretty even-keeled so I can’t help but notice he gets a little twitchy and squirmy in his seat when I volley his own question back to him.

“Yeah. Pretty good.”

“Thanks for coming tonight.” I turn on the leather bench of his Mustang and notice that his eyes look like they might bulge out of his head. “Jag . . . something you want to talk about?”

“You’re welcome.” He continues staring out the windshield as if driving requires every ounce of his attention. “And nah. I’m good.”

“You sure? ’Cause you seem a little . . . off.” I vaguely recall Gavin saying something about Jag and Cassidy but I was slightly distracted during that conversation.

He clears his throat, probably to buy himself some time. I wait patiently, deciding to start the long, arduous process of removing bobby pins from my wedding hairdo.

“I’ll just sit quietly over here untangling my tangled rat’s nest while you decide if you want to tell me why you seem so bajigity.”

“Not even a word, Lark.”

“Don’t care, McKinley.”

Houses blur and I don’t even bother trying to count them. I’m not actually able to focus very well at the moment. He’s adjusting himself in his seat, so whatever he’s stressing about obviously is having an effect on his man parts. If he tells me he wants to get back together I might punch him in the throat. He knows a little about my Gavin drama and that the last thing I need right now is him wanting to be more than friends.

“So . . . your friend Cassidy . . . she’s single?”

Oh, thank God. I breathe an audible sigh of relief. “Yeah, as far as I know. Why? You got a crush?”

“Something like that,” he answers low, but the corners of his mouth quirk up.

“She’s a sweet girl. Got a raw deal in Nashville and had to come home to deal with stuff. Her parents moved away years ago, though. Basically said that if she moved to Nashville instead of going to the Ivy League college she was accepted to, she was dead to them. She crashed with Robyn at one point and now . . . huh. Now I don’t actually know where she’s staying.” I make a mental note to ask her the next time I talk to her.

“Wow. Ivy League. Smart girl.”

I nod, becoming increasingly curious about Jag’s new love interest. It’s nice to have someone else’s complicated situation to focus on. I can always analyze the relationships of others so much better than my own. Go figure.

“She is smart. She’s also super-impulsive and kind of overly trusting. Or at least she used to be. Life has a way of sucking the hope and trust and free spirit out of some of us.”

“Including you?”

I don’t answer right away because he already knows from our talks in the garage. Seeing Gavin in the bar that night, realizing he’d been here the whole time and hadn’t bothered to so much as shoot me a text to let me know, it changed me. Not that I’m ruined or anything but it hurt and I know I’ve become more careful and withdrawn. Jag and my brother have both pointed it out and Robyn is pretty much constantly on my case about it. “Talk to him,” she says. “Tell him how you feel. Demand answers.”

Right. If only it were that easy. I talked to him for five minutes tonight and look how well that turned out.

“Especially me,” I say quietly into the darkened car interior without checking to see if Jag heard me.

In my head, it’s black-and-white.

Gavin and I had a fling. One I pushed him into. He got me out of his system and moved on with his life without any further thoughts of me. Sadly, I’m not quite that detached and I was hurt and, well . . . heartbroken. But I’m a big girl. I’m no stranger to pain. Just wish I understood the purpose behind it sometimes.

In my heart, though, it’s one big Technicolor mess.