Dare had wanted three things for as long as he could remember, and Billie was at the top of that list, followed by becoming a Dark Knight and being a therapist at his family’s ranch—Redemption Ranch—where they rescued horses and people, giving ex-cons, recovering addicts who had gone through rehab, and people with social or emotional issues, and other lost souls, a second chance.
Some might say two out of three wasn’t bad. But as Dare looked across the bar at Billie, his heart said otherwise.
He never should have made that stupid pact with Eddie in high school, but they were two kids crushing on their best friend. They’d agreed neither would make a move, but if Billie made the move, they could act on it. Dare had gotten lucky when she’d made a move the summer before college. But his luck hadn’t lasted. Moments after making out, she’d kicked him to the curb.
He’d been knocked on his ass, and had gone down a bad path after that, partying hard and doing some scary shit just to try to get her out of his head. His father had tried to straighten him out more times than he could count. There was no one tougher than Tommy “Tiny” Whiskey. He was six four and three hundred pounds of badass biker and rancher. But Dare didn’t scare easily, and while he was wild, he wasn’t stupid. He’d gone to college and had kept his grades up despite his partying so his parents would have no reason to pull him out of school. It wasn’t until his sophomore year, when Billie had told him she didn’t even know who he was anymore and that he didn’t have what it took to become a Dark Knight that he’d finally cleaned up his act. He’d gotten his shit together, interned in his field during school and at the ranch when he wasn’t in school, where his mother, Wynnie, a psychologist, led a staff of therapists. He’d prospected the Dark Knights, and after graduation, he’d come home determined to get his girl.
He’d gone straight to Eddie’s house to tell him he was done respecting the pact. But before Dare could get a word out, Eddie dropped the bomb that he and Billie were seeing each other. Dare had fought the urge to drink himself into oblivion, and instead had poured everything he had into becoming the best therapist he could be and living a damn good life, because he’d been sure that Billie and Eddie would realize they weren’t right for each other, and when that happened, he’d be there to show her the light. He’d gotten his master’s degree and had since earned a strong reputation for his unconventional therapy style.
He hadn’t counted on Eddie proposing to Billie or Billie saying yes, which had gutted Dare anew.
He should have fought for her that summer before college. Maybe then she wouldn’t have ended up with Eddie, and Dare wouldn’t have said the shit he’d said when she’d gotten engaged, and ruined their friendship.
“I can’t believe how late I am!” Birdie, their youngest sister, said as she breezed up to the table, jerking him from his thoughts. She was wearing black-and-white checked shorts with ruffled hems, a cropped black T-shirt, and red high heels. Her wild dark hair had a red-and-yellow polka-dot ribbon braided into a lock running down the left side of her face. She wore two bracelets with enormous red and white beads and white-framed glasses—cosmetic, not prescription. Her style was as quirky as her personality. She slid into a chair at the table, talking a mile a minute. “The shop was crazy busy, and Quinn and I got to talking after we closed up. You know how that goes.” Birdie was co-owner of Divine Intervention chocolate shop, where she worked with her bestie and their aunt. “Quinnie will be here later, by the way…”
As Birdie rattled on, Dare looked across the room at Billie leaning over the bar in that skimpy red leather halter top. She looked hot as sin in cutoffs, cowgirl boots, and that sexy black choker she wore like a brand. She’d always dressed edgy and sexy, reeking of confidence and a don’t-fuck-with-me attitude. He’d seen her ice people out of her life, but he never thought he’d be one of them. Until Eddie died, and the world as he knew it failed to exist.
“This place is packed. Who’s Dare looking at?” Birdie scrambled up to her feet on the chair, drawing Dare’s attention as she looked over the crowd. She was a tiny thing, which was why Dare had coined the nickname Birdie when she was just two years old. It suited her better than her given name, Blair. “It’s Billie!”
“Who else?” Rebel said as Birdie sat down. “If he keeps staring at her like that, people are going to think he’s a stalker.”
“He’s right, man,” Cowboy agreed. “Give her a break.”
Dare looked at his fairer-haired, bearded, and formidable older brother, who along with their oldest brother, Seeley, who went by the road name “Doc” and ran a veterinary clinic at the ranch, were always trying to rein him in. Cowboy was naturally bossy, and while that was perfect for managing the ranch hands, it had never gone over well with Dare. “Think I give a shit what other people think? I’m just making sure nobody gives her a hard time.”
Cowboy arched a brow. “Nobody but you? I think she’s made it more than clear that she doesn’t need your protection.”
“Who are you to talk?” Birdie chimed in. “You’re overprotective of everyone we know, and you’re always busting my balls about how I dress and what guys I talk to.”
“That would be all of your brothers,” Rebel pointed out.
“I don’t need help from the peanut gallery, thank you very much,” Birdie said.
Dare loved Birdie’s take-no-shit attitude.
“Sorry to break this to you, Bird,” Cowboy said. “But you don’t have balls.”
“Oh yeah?” She sat up straighter. “You always say it takes brass balls to ride the mechanical bull. Who holds the record for the longest mechanical bull ride two years running?” She pointed to herself with both thumbs.
Dare chuckled, Cowboy shook his head, and Rebel high-fived Birdie.
“Thank you very much.” Birdie reached for Dare’s beer.
He put his hand over the bottle. “You driving?”
“Yes, Daddy, which is why I’m only taking a sip of yours and not drinking my own.” She yanked the bottle away and took a drink, then set it down in front of him. “Are you driving?”
“Yes, but I’ve got about a hundred and twenty pounds on you, and this is my first and only beer.”
“Sometimes I wish I were heavier. Now…” She tapped her chin, looking around the room. “I need to find a woman for Cowboy.” She’d gotten a hair up her ass a few months back about marrying Cowboy off, and she was always trying to find him a woman. Birdie lived for her made-up missions as much as their sister Sasha lived for their paintball games.
Birdie reached across the table and patted Cowboy’s arm. “There’s a cute blonde. The one in the blue top.”
“No thanks,” Cowboy said. “Dare had his mouth on her a couple of hours ago.”
Birdie gave Dare a disapproving stare. “Do you have to make out with all the women in this town? Geez.”
There was only one woman he wanted to get his mouth on, but she’d like to run him over with her truck. “Just sharin’ the love, darlin’.”
Birdie rolled her eyes. “You guys would lock me up if I did that.”