Free Cowboy Alpha Billionaire Bad Boy: F#cking Jerk 1 by Tawny Taylor

couple out of the corner of my eye. They were strolling down the sidewalk, his arm flopped over her shoulder.
     
    I took a closer look at them. They were coming this way, but with the setting sun behind them I couldn’t make out more than silhouettes. They looked so sweet and in love. Their steps in perfect time with each other. The bodies linked, moving as one. The sound of the woman’s laughter echoed through the quiet.
     
    They strolled past the pizzaria’s window, the light illuminating their faces.
     
    Ohmygod!
     
    My heart stopped.
     
    It wasn’t.
     
    It couldn’t be…
     
    Clay.
     
    That bastard!
     
    I looked at the woman. Was it Carrie?
     
    No, that wasn’t his sister. It’s been a few years since I’ve seen her, but I was sure that wasn’t her.
     
    And it wasn’t Lacy either.
     
    This girl was pretty, in a very trying-too-hard kind of way, with her heavy makeup and fuck-me clothes. No question, this girl was after one thing—Clay’s dick. And, gauging from the look on his face, she was going to have it.
     
    What a fool I’d been! How did that saying go? A tiger never changes its stripes? Yes, pretty sure that was it. And once a jerk, always a jerk.
     
    Clay’s companion leaned in and kissed his cheek, whispering something in his ear.
     
    He nodded and, absolutely clueless that I was sitting right in front of them, he walked by, headed who-knew-where. Maybe the freaking pasture to have dinner and a fuck under the stars.
     
    In no mood to be in public now (though a lot of alcohol would be good), I started my car and steered out of the parking spot. And, somehow, even though I was determined to drive home and put an end to this fucked up day, I ended up stopping  in front of the pub. I blamed my bruised ego. It needed some male recognition. I might be a fool, but I was a hot fool. Surely there’d be plenty of men in the pub willing to help me feel less…forgettable.
     
    One drink. After the day I’d had, I deserved one drink.
     
    I grabbed my bag and went inside.
     
    The place was a pit. Narrow. Dark. Packed with people. One quick look around and I noticed the clientele was older than I expected. The men all dressed in coyboy hats, faded jeans, gray stubble and lots of tattoos. The women didn’t look a whole lot different than the men—minus the stubble…for some of them.
     
    The place stank of stale beer and sweat. Hank Williams wailed on hidden speakers. A few heads turned my way as I stepped inside, shoes scuffing across the rough plank floors. I wiggled and bumped my way between scarred oak tables to the long bar lining the wall to the left. A busty girl with her tits practically falling out her top asked for my order. Second-guessing my decision, I ordered a beer and turned to see if I’d made as big a mistake as I’d originally thought.
     
    “Well, hello there, darlin’,” a man at least thirty years older than me said as he eyed me up and down. This creepy leer was not what I’d been hoping for when I’d come in here. Unruly hair greasy, beard mangy, clothes dingy and face more leathery than his shitty boots. Not my idea of a dream cowboy. “Aren’t you a sight for sore eyes.”
     
    Feeling totally out-of-place, I gave my elderly admirer a little smile then turned back to the bar. This was definitely not my crowd.
     
    “’S’cuse me, but since when did a nice compliment like that deserve such a chilly reception?” the man said, his scowl turning his wrinkles into deep lines. He leaned closer, the stench of his breath making my eyes water. “Think you’re too good for me, bitch?”
     
    Aw crap. Nothing was going right for me today. I was done. Out of there.
     
    The bartender set my beer on a little paper napkin and proclaimed, “That’ll be five dollars.”
     
    I fished a five and a one out of my purse, handed it to her, and then walked away, leaving the full beer on the bar. I side-stepped around groups of middle-aged people, jabbering and flirting