Free Near & Far by Nicole Williams Page A

way.” Garth threw the twig I’d tossed at him back at me. I leaned out of its way. “Given that girly throw, you must have left your dick behind, too.”
    “If I wanted to hit you, I would have.”
    Garth blew out a loud breath. “Please. Says the guy who didn’t.”
    The next twig was an inch in front of his face before he noticed I’d moved. It bounced off the tip of his nose before tumbling to the ground.
    Garth made a surprised huff while I laughed. “That was a bitch move, Walker.” He rubbed his nose.
    “Then stop saying stuff deserving of one.”
    “Damn.” Garth acted like I’d just driven a knife into his face instead of a tiny twig. It had barely thumped him hard enough to leave a red mark. “Pussy-whipped little bitch.”
    “I can’t decide if you’re easier to deal with drunk or sober.”
    I stomped my empty Coke can and reached into the cooler for another one, offering Garth one, too. Dad didn’t mind if the guys had a beer or two on night-watch, but Mom had packed Garth’s and my cooler. She knew what I’d learned years ago: Garth didn’t do moderation. At least not very well. It was all or nothing with Garth Black, and that was part of why being his friend was hard. It was also what made being his friend so much fun.
    “Drunk. Sober. Doesn’t matter. I’m not a fun person to be around.”
    “And here I thought we were having a blast.”
    Garth smiled tightly. “Fuck off, Walker.”
    Sunny picked that time to stomp his hoof back where he was grazing alongside Rebel, Garth’s horse. Most of the time, Garth and I had to make sure to keep our horses apart because they’d get into it if one looked at the other the wrong way. At the end of the day, they seemed to work it out enough to graze alongside each other. Kind of like their human counterparts could sit across from each other at a campfire and talk “civilly.”
    “So? Rowen Sterling?” Garth’s smile tipped up on one side. I didn’t particularly like that smile when it followed the mention of my girlfriend. “How is the first girl in the history of the world to pick the good guy over the fiercely handsome, hung-like-a-stallion bad boy?”
    “Rowen’s good. Happy with her recent life choices. Really happy.” I dodged the pebble Garth tossed my way.
    “Sure she’s not, shithead.”
    “Okay, the name-calling was endearing five hundred shitheads ago. One more, and you’re going to start hurting my feelings.”
    “Sorry,” Garth said, tilting his dark hat lower over his forehead. “Shithead.”
    Garth had always been the kind of guy who fit the you can’t teach an old dog new tricks cliché, even when I’d met him when we were eight. Someone could devote their entire life to trying to change Garth, and it would be a wasted life. Garth changed for no one—not even for himself.
    “Rowen’s great, actually. She had a huge art show that kind of came up last minute when I was over there a couple of weekends ago. She sold almost every piece. A couple even went into a bidding war.” I smiled into the fire. “God, Garth, she’s so damn talented. You should have seen it. I know the general consensus is that we country folks are nothing but dumb hicks who wouldn’t know Michelangelo from paint-by-numbers, but man. You could be the dumbest, blindest person on the planet and still feel something looking at one of her pieces.”
    “That art appreciation speech did nothing— nothing —to ease my Brokeback fears, Walker. Next time you decide to turn into a little girl, give me some warning, okay?”
    Garth had been one of my best friends for over a decade, but most of the time, a rock would have been a better companion. “Don’t make me drag you into that tent and do filthy cowboy things to you.” I winked at him and blew a few air kisses.
    Garth chuckled. “You are one sick son-of-a-bitch, Jess. I knew there was a reason we were friends.”
    “You mean it’s not because we lift each other up and bring out the best in