snorted. “I just got a profane text from Liss.”
“Is she watching the game in between female bonding moments?” Eli asked.
“You don’t think Sadie is watching the game?” Connor asked.
“She pays just enough attention to football to irritate all of us. Though I imagine that if Kate is around, she and Liss will have banded together to commandeer the remote.”
“Had we opted to watch the game as a group, I imagine she would have showed up wearing orange and black and rooting for the Beavers. Even though they aren’t playing.”
“You chose a real winner there, Eli,” Jack said, happy to be on any topic other than the one his brain seemed intent on focusing on.
“Our love transcends football,” Eli said, lifting a bottle of beer to his lips.
“And my love for Liss doesn’t have to,” Connor said.
“And I’m single, assholes,” Jack added, grinning broadly.
“I don’t envy you,” Eli said.
“Because you’ve forgotten.”
“Forgotten celibacy? Feeling lonely, depressed.” Connor shook his head. “No, I have not forgotten that.”
“Some of us are not celibate,” Jack said. Though, come to think of it, it had been a lot longer than usual since he’d picked someone up.
Which could explain some of the weirdness between him and Kate.
And now he was back to Kate.
“So you and Kate are working on a charity thing?” Eli asked.
A sharp sensation twinged in his chest. It was almost as though Eli could read his mind. Which was a dangerous thing right now. “Yeah. Has she mentioned much about it?”
“No, not really. I was curious.”
“Well, it isn’t just me and Kate,” he said, feeling unaccountably guilty. “We’ve got the whole amateur association involved. And I’m working toward reconnecting with some contacts in the pro association to get them to help, as well. So it’s a whole group effort.”
“To help Alison?” Connor asked.
His question had a tone to it. A suspicious tone. “Yes. Her and other women in her situation. I’m impressed with what she’s doing, improving not only her situation but the situations of others.” Which didn’t sound defensive at all. Not that he had any reason to feel defensive about Alison. It was the entire situation.
“Is there something going on with her?” This question came from Eli. “You and her, I mean.”
Jack was almost grateful they were so far offtrack. “No. I’m sure she’s lovely but hooking up with vulnerable women is not exactly my thing.” Which was a nice reminder. “They want what I’m not going to give.”
“You seem to be giving things,” Eli said.
Well, this was the story of his life. He couldn’t possibly be doing something nice just to do something nice. He must have ulterior motives. Probably extremely dishonorable ones.
“Because I’m a nice person, jackass.”
Eli held his hands up, palms out. “Of course you are.”
“I do selfless things.”
“Uh-huh,” Connor said.
“I have.” Maybe not very many.
“Fine. I believe you,” Eli said.
Jack snorted and stood up, making his way into the kitchen to grab another beer. Of course, he couldn’t be too mad, since Connor and Eli were his oldest friends and they had a lot more context for his behavior than most people did. Still, the citizens of Copper Ridge tended to sell him short. And yeah, some of that he’d earned. But not all of it.
He liked to make people laugh; he liked to provide a good time. He liked to have a good time. And somehow people tended to mistake that to mean he didn’t take anything seriously. As though his ranch ran on charm rather than labor. As though he had lucked into his position on the circuit.
Maybe if he did a good job organizing this charity thing, the town would have to realize that he had the ability to see something through. To do something right, to do something noble, even.
Yeah, noble wasn’t a word typically used to describe him.
Maybe, though...maybe he could get noticed for doing something good. Maybe he could change some things.
Everyone liked him well enough, but no one took him all that seriously. He wondered if that would change if the townspeople had any idea that he carried the same genes as the venerable West family.
No doubt it would, since the oldest of the West children had a fairly large scandal in his past, and yet the town never seemed to talk much about it. As though the influence of Nathan West was mixed into the mist, settling over everything. All-seeing, all-knowing.
But he had no claim to that name; he’d sold it when he was eighteen years old. A little bit of hush money to get his life going, to permanently separate himself from a man who had never given a damn about them anyway. It had seemed like a no-brainer at the time.
Now sometimes he felt a bit as if he’d sold himself. Pretty damn cheap, too.
And the Wests were part of the town—the mortar in half the brick buildings on Main Street. Jack felt somewhat obligated to slide under the radar. Oh, sure, he’d been a pro bull rider; he was a ladies’ man; he lived in the same town he was born in. The people paid him no mind, because they thought he was harmless. Thought he was laid-back. Thought he was haphazard, that he came by his successes accidentally.
They underestimated him, and he allowed it.
And he was pretty tired of it.
He jerked open the fridge and pulled out another bottle of beer before slamming the door shut again. Yeah, he was pretty damn tired of it. So he was going to put an end to it.
This charity rodeo was going to be a success. One of the biggest things Copper Ridge had ever been a part of. Maybe it would even be something that caught on. Something that was annual, at least here, if not in other counties.
It would be work. Hard work. And people would have to acknowledge that.
Hell, that was the entire point of his horse breeding operation. No one knew it. No one but him. But he was amassing a reputation for having some of the finer stock around, and he was most definitely gunning for Nathan West. To overthrow him. To diminish the man’s empire.
To meet the man at the top of his own game and beat him at it.
Maybe it was petty. To want something just so he could prove to the man who would never lower himself to call himself Jack’s father that he wasn’t just a little bastard brat who could be swept under the rug. That if he was given money, he wouldn’t just go drink himself into a stupor with it because he was poor and unworthy and didn’t know what to do with cash. Oh no, he was making himself legitimate competition.
And the old man had provided the seed money that allowed Jack to do it.
It was poetic justice, albeit private poetic justice, that he had been enjoying greatly for the past couple of years.
This would be just a slightly more public showing. The middle finger to his dad, a bid for legitimacy. A way to flaunt himself without violating their agreement. His dad’s dirty secret shining in the light, and even if no one else knew it, the old man would.
Yeah, he was all in. No question.
He turned and walked back into the living room, offering Eli and Connor a smile they didn’t see, since they were glued to the game.
“Since I’ve been a pretty awesome