31. Grace
Chapter 31
Grace
My heart races as I watch Hendrix go. Part of it is nerves for him. I trust him, and I’m sure that he’ll do well—I just know how nervous he is, and I feel like some of those nerves transferred to me. I hope he finds confidence in himself and doesn’t eat himself up with nerves.
I’d hoped that the necklace would help with that. A little something to remember how much I care and that I’m supporting him, and hey, when you believe in something, it helps. If you think something will give you luck, then it does.
But the other reason my heart is racing, the reason my breath is caught in my throat, is that image of the tattoo branded into my mind’s eye.
He went and got a tattoo of me. A tattoo that represents me. A tattoo isn’t a small thing to get. They’re a pain in the neck to remove if you don’t want them anymore. And he got it somewhere so private…
It just feels even more intimate, that he got it near his heart like that. Like it’s not something he needs to shout from the rooftops but something secret and special, just for him.
I want to put my hand over my heart and swoon like I’m a heroine in one of the romance novels that we publish at my company. My stomach flutters. I’m starting to get really attached to these men. This feels serious.
The thought makes me feel elated and terrified at the same time.
But I can’t just stand there like an idiot, getting in the way of all the other rodeo employees and riders. I hurry to join up with the other three Alphas, where we get some food and find our seats.
“Oh my god,” I blurt out, grinning and pointing. “Fried Oreos. I loved those things as a kid, I haven’t had them in ages.”
“Fried ice cream is where it’s at,” Jesse disagrees with me.
“Are you saying that just to mess with me or do you genuinely think that?”
“Oh, I genuinely think that. Don’t worry, if I was messing with you I would’ve said deep friend Twinkies.”
Easton makes a face, wrinkling up his nose. It’s adorable. “What is wrong with you two?”
Jesse grins at him and puts his hand on the small of my back. “Come on, wildcard, let’s get some grub.”
“I’m going to get cotton candy,” Easton announces. “Like a normal person.”
The lines for all the different food are, obviously, different, so I stand in my own line while the men get into theirs. I know we have plenty of time, but I am a little anxious about the line, so I’m not really paying attention to the people around me.
Boy, I wish I had been.
“Oh, Grace?”
I wince internally and hope that my ignoring her will cause Maybelle to think she was mistaken and move on, but instead she moves in closer. “Grace, it is you! What a surprise.”
I turn to look at her. “Maybelle, hi.”
She looks lovely as always, dressed in a cute little halter top and a gingham skirt. She’s adorable, and looks like she belongs on a magazine advertising rodeos. I’m sure everyone would sign up to go if they saw her on the cover.
“Surprised to see you here!” Maybelle smiles, tucking a lock of hair behind her ear. “What with you being such a city girl and all. I would’ve thought you’d feel all this was… beneath you.”
“Not at all. I was excited to be here.” I plaster a smile on my face.
“Hmm. It has been a while. Are you sure you’re not anxious to get back home, to the city? I’m sure we all would’ve bored you by now.”
“No, I’m really enjoying my time here, actually.” I get what she’s trying to say—that I’m a snob who thinks all this isn’t good enough for me. “I hope you’re having fun today.”
“Oh, I’m sure I will. It’ll be nice to enjoy this with people who understand the culture and aren’t just… you know… tourists.”
“Grace grew up around here, you know, she’s the farthest thing from a tourist.”
I jump in surprise and turn to see Jesse standing behind me. He’s got a calm look on his face, but I know Jesse’s moods well enough by now to see the spark in his eyes. He’s not happy.
Maybelle smiles like butter wouldn’t melt in her mouth. “Jesse! It’s so good to see you. I feel like none of us have gotten to see you around since you started courting.”
It’s a subtle dig at me—implying that I’m this terrible Omega keeping the four beloved Alphas away from everyone else—and I don’t actually think that Jesse will notice. Nobody noticed when Maybelle bullied me while we were growing up, after all.
But instead, Jesse cocks an eyebrow. The thing is, I haven’t seen Jesse truly angry before. But I know what he’s like when he’s teasing me, or even just irritated with me, and I guess I didn’t realize just how much softness he has for me until now, when I see him look at someone else with that softness completely missing.
“Honestly, it’s my fault entirely,” Jesse says with a grin. I don’t know if Maybelle can see the sharp edges of it, like a wolf baring its teeth, but I sure do. My stomach gives an odd little thrill. “We’ve been selfish, keeping Grace to ourselves.”
He looks at me, his gaze scorching, leaving no room to guess exactly what he means. I swallow hard, a thousand intimate moments flashing through my mind. It feels like he’s undressing me with his eyes.
Jesse looks back at Maybelle. “I had no idea you missed seeing her, but I should’ve known. I bet everyone missed Grace while she was out of town. I know my pack did.”
Maybelle looks like she might say something, but then I feel warm, broad hands land on my shoulders and a familiar, comforting scent envelops me. “Hey, got my food before you guys did.”
Easton kisses me on the cheek and pinches off a piece of cotton candy, holding it to my lips while he’s still draped over me. “Want some?” he murmurs in my ear.
I take the cotton candy, trying to be PG about it, but that’s almost impossible to do with cotton candy seeing how it dissolves on your tongue almost immediately. I end up sucking Easton’s fingers into my mouth a little, my heart hammering in my ears and my skin prickling with heat.
Easton chuckles and kisses my temple, openly affectionate in that caretaker way of his. It’s sexy, but also protective. Easton’s a bit more private than Jesse or Hendrix, although not as much as Cade. I don’t think he’d be going quite this hard if he wasn’t trying to protect me from Maybelle.
My heart swells with surprise and gratitude. I lean back into his chest and let him feed me more cotton candy, smiling up at him and sucking on his fingers, uncaring if other people in line think we’re being a bit gross.
Cade walks up, holding a tray of hot dogs and drinks for all of us. His brows rise a little when he sees Easton and Jesse and how they’re behaving. I make eye contact with him and shrug.
Maybelle shrugs at Jesse, apparently not ready to back down so easily. “Well, I just think it’s odd. I wondered if maybe you didn’t want to be seen in public.”
“Oh, we don’t want to be seen in public,” Easton teases. Cade smirks, amused in his own gruff way.
“I get it,” Jesse says, nodding like he’s just figured something out. “Your Alphas barely pay attention to you so you don’t realize what a healthy Alpha-Omega pack is supposed to look like.”
I can feel my eyes go wide with shock as I stare at Jesse, not sure I heard him correctly. The idea of Maybelle, of all people, not getting Alphas to pay attention to her is kind of shocking to me. I always knew she was rude and hurtful, but I thought everyone else bought into her elegant and graceful attitude. I was sure she’d have an Alpha pack that would like the same things she does and think she walks on air, like everyone did when we were in school together.
I guess not. I can’t help but feel a little bad for her, especially given how my Alphas treat me, and it’s not even a real courtship.
Or at least. It wasn’t real. Now… now I don’t know. The line feels so blurred. I mean, Hendrix got a tattoo… it could just be he agrees daisies mean luck and he wanted something more permanent like he said. I shouldn’t get my hopes up too much. Easton’s just being playful and sexy with me as a way to get back at Maybelle, because I know Easton’s kind heart would never abide a bully.
Or, maybe these are all just rationalizations I’m giving myself and there is something changing. Maybe this really is serious.
I don’t know which possibility scares me more.
Maybelle flushes with embarrassment. “I… well…”
“Alphas are supposed to worship their Omegas,” Jesse points out. “Adore them. I’m so sorry that’s not happening for you, but luckily, we’re happy to do that for Grace.”
“She deserves it,” Cade adds gruffly, to my shock.
Maybelle flushes harder, her eyes sparkling with anger. I think Jesse’s casual tone is getting to her more than if he puffed up with anger. If there’s one thing Maybelle hates, it’s pity, and that’s exactly what Jesse’s giving her.
“It was lovely to see you, Maybelle,” Jesse says, his voice smooth and warm, the quintessential cowboy tone like butter wouldn’t melt in his mouth. I almost expect him to tip his hat to her and call her ma’am.
Maybelle knows a dismissal when she hears one, at least when it’s Jesse giving it to her. She gives a brittle smile, turns on her heel, and walks away.
My jaw drops once she’s gone. “You really didn’t have to do that.”
“Of course we did,” Jesse growls. “Nobody gets away with talking down to you.”
Easton holds me tighter, the cotton candy all gone, just comfort in its place.
We reach the front of the line, I order my fried Oreos, then we make our way to our seats. “It’s just that nobody’s noticed that before,” I admit. “She used to bully me all the time in high school and nobody ever realized.”
“Well, we do,” Jesse says firmly. “Nobody gets to treat you like that.”
“That kind of behavior isn’t all right,” Cade growls quietly.
I flush, taking my food and focusing on eating it. I know that they’re good men and will defend anyone, I’m sure they wouldn’t stand for Maybelle being mean to anybody. But I can’t help but wonder again if maybe this is more than I thought. It’s wonderful that they stood up for me, even if it’s fake. I just can’t help but question if it really is fake, at this point.
I don’t have any time to ponder it further, though, because it’s time for the rodeo to start.
The crowd is rowdy, which I appreciate. I love the energy. I just also wish that everyone would shut up so that I can focus on Hendrix when he comes out.
Rodeos are inherently dangerous. Lots of work has been done to make them safer for both the animals and the people but they are still dangerous and I can feel my heart racing in my chest as I see everyone come out.
Injuries still happen. I haven’t heard of any deaths, really, but that doesn’t mean they don’t happen. Everyone’s got some horror story or other of a cousin of a friend who broke his back riding a bull or a bronco.
I know Hendrix is a good rider. I know it. I just can’t stop the worry.
I calm down a little as I watch the other riders. They’re all good, they wouldn’t be here if they weren’t, and I just know in my heart that Hendrix is better than a lot of them. I’ve seen for weeks now how he handles the horses, and I’ve seen the skill he has riding the motorcycle. I know he can do this.
And then—the announcer shouts Hendrix’s name.
I leap to my feet with excitement. It’s calf roping, which is all about horsemanship, roping accuracy, and animal handling.
Hendrix comes out with his horse, one that I know from the ranch. She’s a good girl, but I haven’t gotten to see Hendrix practice with her—he kept his practicing secret from all of us. I have no idea how this is going to go.
Anxiety sweeps over me in a wave, climbing up my throat, and I suddenly feel so odd about it. Like someone’s just poured all the nerves into me, an alien creature climbing inside me. It doesn’t feel like mine.
I stare at Hendrix as he readies the horse, and I wonder… I wonder if the anxiety I’m feeling is his, and not mine.
It’s such an odd thought to have, and yet it feels right. There’s no harm in following that idea, and so—if I can feel his emotions—maybe he can feel mine.
I take a deep breath and I think about how Hendrix makes me feel. How his scent calms me and grounds me. How safe I feel with him. How he made me feel confident in riding the motorcycle, something that previously made me so scared.
I focus on that confidence, and on my belief in him. I really do believe Hendrix will do well, and I just need him to know that about himself.
Hendrix straightens up on his horse, and I see his shoulders relax.
Then, without any outward sign that I can see, he bursts from the chute.
I remember Hendrix telling me that you truly guide the horse through your thighs and shift in balance, more than anything else, when you’re at this level of skill. And he must be right, because I can’t see him really use the reins or anything else to guide his horse as he zeroes in on the sprinting calf, skillfully swinging his lasso.
The rope loops around the calf’s neck, and the horse stops abruptly, kicking up a cloud of dust. Hendrix leaps off his mount in a smooth movement, sprinting toward the calf with incredible speed.
I whoop and holler, a huge grin on my face. He’s doing so well! And to be honest, he looks hot as fuck while he’s doing it.
He flips the calf onto its side effortlessly and, with lightning-fast hands, ties three of its legs together with a short rope. The whole thing is a blur of speed and precision, and I hold my breath until he raises his hands overhead, signaling that he’s completed the task.
As the clock stops, I spring to my feet, cheering and clapping so hard that my palms sting.
After that, there’s another event that Hendrix isn’t in, some kind of fancy dance that you guide the horse through, and a few younger riders who do the kid’s version of events.
Then it’s Hendrix’s second event, the one I’m nervous about: the bronco riding.
I hope that the previous event gave him confidence, because I can’t stop my pulse racing through me, thrumming like a hive of bees, as I watch rider after rider fall. Nobody’s badly hurt, although I’m sure they’re all bruised, but I end up clutching at Jesse’s arm while I watch.
He doesn’t complain, just watches me with a fond smile as I hold onto him.
Then I see Hendrix’s familiar silhouette, and I inhale sharply. I can hardly breathe.
I think that his previous run gave him more confidence, and I feel it wash over me. I take a deep breath and try to feel confident as well. I want him—I need him—to be okay.
Hendrix gets onto the bronco, and the gate is lifted—they’re off.
I gasp as the bronco bucks and leaps and does his damn best to unseat Hendrix. Hendrix’s body shifts with the animal, one hand up as per the rules, his body moving fluidly. Honestly, it’s kind of sexy, in a way I didn’t expect. The way that his body moves reminds me of how our bodies move together whenever he fucks me, the power and strength and skill that he has in his body.
For a few seconds, it feels like I’m watching something sexy, something raw and powerful, something that’s almost art.
Then Hendrix is bucked off and he falls, tucking and rolling, getting to his feet and scrambling well out of the way of the horse while the handlers rush in.
I exhale in relief and finally remove my hand from Jesse’s arm. Jesse chuckles. “I think you left some marks.”
“Sorry.”
“Don’t be. It’s cute.”
I clap along with the crowd and settle down. “He did well.”
“I think he has the second-best time, unless someone else beats him.”
I feel bad, hoping that every other rider after Hendrix falls. But I want him to do well. I want him to get that confidence back.
There are other events afterward, and we don’t get to see Hendrix while the organizers figure out who did well in what so they can do the little ceremony at the end. I feel like I’m going to go crazy by the end. The Alphas find it amusing, teasing me about how I’ve got more nerves than the riders probably do at this point. Maybe it’s true, but you can’t blame me. They at least get to exhaust themselves riding, I just have to sit here.
Finally, they announce the positions for the events.
“In third place for barrels, Hendrix…”
My screaming drowns out the rest.
He gets second place in the bucking bronco, with the second-best time, only three seconds behind the first-place rider. That’s amazing! I’m screaming so loudly I’m sure that everyone in the crowd and all the riders too, know who I am. They’re probably rolling their eyes and hoping that crazy woman calms down, but I don’t care. I’m proud of him!
I hurry down through the stands as the crowd disperses. I see Hendrix making his way in our general direction and I yell for him. “Hendrix!”
I sprint and jump, not even thinking about it, just knowing that he’ll catch me. And sure enough, he does, chuckling.
Hendrix holds me tightly. “I could hear you screaming from the stands.”
“I wanted you to hear me.” I have my arms around his neck and I kiss his cheek. “I’m so proud of you. Of course I was going to scream!”
Hendrix sets me down. “Well, you’re going to be doing a lot more screaming this evening, darlin’.”
I shiver. “Oh?”
Hendrix noses at my hair, his lips at my ear. “A whole different kind of screaming. I’m sure I’ll need everyone’s help in making it happen.”
I whimper, heat spreading through me at the idea of all four of them having me again. “Yes, please,” I whisper.
I can’t think of a better way to celebrate.