Chapter 12 #2
She waved a hand dismissively, almost catching me in the face. “This? This is just fine.”
“Baby,” I crooned and took a small step closer. “What’s wrong?”
“What’s wrong?” she repeated, her voice rising, the frustration bubbling to the surface. “What’s wrong?”
She flung her arm out, gesturing wildly around the parking lot. My eyes followed, trying to make sense of it.
“The . . . tree?” I asked, confused, glancing at the lone, scraggly thing swaying in the wind.
“No, you fucking idiot,” she cried. “I’m in this tiny-ass town in Texas with no home, no family, no boyfriend, and I lost my damn job!”
Her voice cracked on the last word, and she looked away, her shoulders slumping like the weight of it all had finally caught up to her.
“The event went well, but they fired you?”
She sniffled, swiping at her cheek. “The fucking asshole prick of a boss hit on me and got pissed when I said no.”
My eyes practically popped out of my head. “Say less.” I reached for my phone, already planning to blast the guy on socials or call in some favors to make his life miserable—
Fable’s hand closed over mine, gently pushing the phone down. “Stop. Thank you for whatever you’re thinking of doing, but it’s not worth it. It’s a change.”
“You don’t deserve that. You deserve good things. Better things than what that asshole tried to pull.”
She didn’t respond, just looked away toward the darkened road, her arms crossed tightly over her chest.
“Sometimes . . . change is good,” I added, stepping closer, careful not to push too far.
“I know it doesn’t feel like it right now, but it can be.
Every weekend for me is a change—a new arena, a new bull, a new town.
You know what? It scares the hell out of me sometimes.
The unknown is heavy, but it’s also the one thing that keeps me moving forward. ”
She glanced at me then, her expression softer, but still guarded.
“I’m not saying it’s easy, but maybe the thing that scares you the most is the same thing that’s going to push you toward something better. You’re stronger than you think, Cowgirl.”
She sniffed, her eyes searching mine for a long moment before she finally spoke. “I don’t feel strong at all.”
“You don’t have to feel it,” I said, a small smile tugging at my lips. “But it’s there. I can see it, even if you can’t.”
“You don’t even know me,” she whispered.
I didn’t, but I wanted to. I wanted to know her like I knew how tight I liked my bull rope wrapped around my wrist. I wanted to learn her rhythm the way I learned to anticipate the first jolt out of the chutes.
“Come on,” I said, sliding my phone back into my pocket. “I think I know where we can go.”
She shook her head. “No. I’m not going anywhere else with you. I know how that ended up last time, and I’m not in the mood.”
I chuckled because she was right. As much as I’d like to get her back to my place, Fable was someone I couldn’t touch twice.
She wasn’t built for casual, and I wasn’t built for anything more.
My imagination? That was another story—it could run free, conjuring up all kinds of possibilities.
But reality? I was too busy for someone who wanted more than a one-time thing.
“Then why don’t you come back inside? I’ll even buy you a beer.”
She eyed me skeptically, her lips pressing into a thin line like she wasn’t sure if she wanted to trust me—or throw that beer in my face.
She swiped at her face. “I am going inside.” She brushed past me with a shove. “But not because you told me to. And I can buy my own beer.”
There it was. The fire that I found so fucking sexy.
“Sure can, Cowgirl,” I said with a smug grin.
She shot me a glare, holding up a hand like it could stop me. “Please stop calling me that.”
I stepped closer, closing the distance between us until the cool night air between us felt like it had disappeared. “Then please stop telling yourself you weren’t considering taking me up on my offer—and coming back with me.”
Her green eyes blazed right into mine. “No. The first time wasn’t special enough.”
She turned to head back, but stopped before reaching the door, her hand hovering over the handle.
“Wait,” she said, turning to look at me. “I didn’t get a good look when I walked in there. Is it dirty inside?”
I frowned. “Dirty?”
“Like . . . unclean. Vomit everywhere. Piss stains. That sort of thing.”
“I guess it’s like any other bar. Not particularly clean, but no vomit anywhere.”
She nodded slowly, her shoulders relaxing slightly as she let out a deep breath. “Okay, good,” she mumbled.
I watched her for a second, my brow furrowed. It was a strange question, but I didn’t press. Something about it felt too delicate to poke at.
“Can you open the door for me?”
I chuckled. She was pushing me away, but still wanted me to be the gentleman. I reached past her and opened the door.
She nodded and seemed satisfied. “Bye, Beau.”
“Baby,” I called after her and followed her inside. “I ain’t going anywhere.”
She groaned and headed toward the pool tables where Harleigh was hanging out with Gatlin and Dalton. Fable didn’t say a word as she joined them, but the way she brushed past me without a glance was loud enough.
Harleigh threw an arm around her shoulders, grinning and saying something that made Fable shake her head with a small, reluctant smile.
I turned away and made my way back to the bar, nodding at the bartender for two more beers. If she was sticking around while I was back on the ranch, I might as well get used to her being here.
As the bartender slid the bottles toward me, I caught a glimpse of her again out of the corner of my eye. She was laughing, a real laugh that softened the sharp edges she carried. That laugh—it was dangerous. It pulled me in, made me want to be the reason for it.
I grabbed the beers and headed back toward the pool table, reminding myself to keep it together.
She was a bad idea. A really bad idea. The kind of woman who got under your skin and stayed there, the type who made you forget all the reasons you shouldn’t get involved.
But damn if I didn’t want to risk it all.