Chapter 15
Maggie
Hadley’s late.
Brady, too, since he’s bringing him over. He needs to meet Spencer later today and is dropping Hadley off beforehand, so . . .
I wait in the lodge parking lot, checking emails while I wait.
Mom and Brad have been wandering past the restaurant windows every few minutes, not even bothering to pretend to be subtle.
Hate to break it to them, but Hadley Jones is not interested in me. Nor I him.
The sun will fail to rise the day I become romantically entangled with a rodeo man. A bull rider, nonetheless.
Something like unease settles in my gut, and I retrain my focus back to the emails.
I respond to all the work ones, and then head to LinkedIn to update my profile and hunt for any vacancies next year.
A few catch my interest, but nothing that would hold my attention for long.
Everything is so pedestrian. Nothing meaningful.
A part-time gig here, a short contract there. I sigh, swiping out of the app.
Tires roll over the sealed parking lot grounds, and I look up to see Brady behind the wheel of his white pickup truck. A much, much newer one than Hadley’s. The man I’m waiting on sits in the passenger seat, his aviators on, that square jaw grinding over what I imagine is chewi—
“Hey, Mags!” Brady pushes out of the door after he kills the engine.
“Hey Brady, how was the drive?”
Hadley steps out, turning back as I divert my attention to Brady who comes to stand by my side as Jones pushes on his hat and tugs his bag from the back of the truck.
Brady feigns seriousness. “Good, yeah, make sure you have him home by midnight, ’kay?”
“Yes, Dad.”
“Hear that, Hads? I’m her daddy now.”
Hadley shakes his head, rolling his eyes as he walks over, bag slung over his shoulder in one hand. “Hey, Maggie.”
“Hadley. Ready for some road-tripping?”
Brady’s gaze bounces between us. He folds his arms over his chest, raising an eyebrow for whatever reason.
“Yes, ma’am.”
“Good, I have snacks and so—”
“My treat this weekend, okay?”
I open my mouth to object. I’m guessing his first paycheck won’t even hit till later in the month. “I really don—”
He closes in, dropping his bag to the ground. “Nope. It’s my turn.”
“Alright, I leave our provisions in your capable hands.”
Brady clears his throat, shifting on his feet. “Yeah, so I can recognize a third wheel when I run headfirst into one. I’ll take off.”
Hadley picks up his bag and opens the side door of the van, placing it inside.
“I’m heading off, Jonesy?” Brady tries again.
“See you, bud. Thanks for the lift.” Hadley pulls his bedroll and gear bag from the white pickup and shoves it inside Betsy, shutting her side door and double-checking it’s closed tight.
“You two kids have fun, then!” Brady climbs back up into his truck and starts it up before rolling out of the parking lot, shaking his head.
I swear I see a combination of confusion and excitement on his face as he looks back at us before slipping round the street corner.
“So, what did you have in mind?” I push my hands into my back pockets.
“Well, for starters, I’m driving.”
My mouth gapes. “Um, no, you’re not. Betsy and I have a rhythm.”
“I promise not to muck that up. Just, it’s not fair you do every mile. You are here to work, you need to be able to focus when we get there.”
“And you don’t? You’re literally getting on a death trap. I think if either one of us needs the mental focus, it’s you.”
My hands are on my hips.
“Fine, we’ll take turns.” He climbs into the driver’s seat, shoving it all the way back before tossing his hat onto the bunk behind.
Poor Betsy.
I slide into the passenger seat as Mom and Brad appear on the front porch, waving.
“Did you need to say goodbye?” Hadley waves at them with a wide smile.
“No, it’s fine.”
“Okay.” He shifts the van into gear, and we rattle from the parking lot. I organize the snacks I’ve already purchased, and he glances at me with an amused expression.
“What?” I say.
He nods at the bag of snacks, hands gripping the wheel. “Feed me.”
I can’t help the laugh bursting from my lips. He lifts his aviators into his hair, a lopsided grin showcasing his perfect teeth. “Come on.”
Good lord, this is going to be a long trip. And I have a feeling I’m going to love every single second of it.
Two hours later, we stop for a rest break and to swap drivers. I push from the van and stretch my legs, literally. Betsy idles for a beat as we let her cool down.
Hadley pushes his hat onto his head, sending my stomach into some kind of frenzy. “You want anything from inside?”
I glance at the tiny gas station store. “Maybe just a bottle of water.”
“Be right back.”
He wanders away, disappearing through the front door of the gas station with a chime of tiny bells.
I walk around the front of Betsy and turn her off. Leaning against the driver’s seat, I sink to the side step and check my phone. I barely have one bar, but new emails have reached my inbox.
Vehicles roll in as I scroll through the messages.
One from the lady at the Pbr office.
A request for interviews with the bull riders, a different angle each event. A 500-word write-up on each to build interest in the team members and the community, to enhance support, no doubt.
Great idea, and I guess I am the resident traveling journalist for the Pbr. There’s an attachment with names of riders I’m to interview each week. I’ll look at that later.
“Still slumming it with the retro wheels, Gallagher?”
I know the voice, and I don’t bother looking up from my phone. Don’t bother lifting my sunglasses from my face or responding at all.
Knox.
Oh, yay. Just my luck . . .
“You want that interview now, or . . .”
I sigh. Of course Knox is first up on the list. I stand, taking him in with a frown. Hopefully he’s a minor feature and not an exclusive.
“Someone on the circuit likes you, Maggie girl. I’m your first exclusive.” The way his dark eyes flare with heat makes my gut sink.
Screw my life six ways to Sunday.
“I’m not condu—”
The door to the small gas station shop opens, the small bell chiming as it does. Knox’s attention snaps over my shoulder. “Huh, I see how it is.”
Hadley stops at my side. “See how what is, Knox?”
Kade’s gaze alternates between Hadley and me. “The blatant favoritism. Doesn’t take a genius to figure out how you ended up with a shit ton more pictures last weekend than the rest of us.” His eyes swing back to me. “Hope his cock is worth it when the broke loser is kicked off the team.”
Knox stalks for the shop, his shoulder hitting Hadley’s as he goes by.
Heat engulfs my face instantly with his insinuation I’m fucking Hadley, or more like Hadley is fucking me for favors. The nerve on the guy.
“Maggie—”
“Nope. Not talking about it in the middle of the road.” I rush to the van and slide the side door open. I’m no prude, but the accusation of sleeping with Hadley as some kind of favor sits about as right in my core as setting kittens on fire.
Some of the circuit may see him as a broke charity case, but I’m not one of them. His kindness, despite our disaster of a start early in the season, has cracked through my hardened veneer. Not his cock, or whatever else Knox was trying his best to spit at us.
I slump onto Betsy’s side step and shove my head in my hands. Is that what they all think? And now we’re road-tripping together this weekend. No wonder people are putting two and two together and coming up with seven.
I groan into my hands.
This is going to backfire for Hadley, I can just tell. The sinking feeling in my gut that crept into existence with Knox’s vile words tells me all I need to know.
“That’s not why we’re friends, Maggie, you know that.”
I do.
I lift my head. “It doesn’t matter what you and I think, or know, it only matters what the rest of the circuit perceives this as. I don’t want you to lose your spot with the Bravos.”
“That’s not going to happen. I won’t let you down.”
I push to my feet and close the distance between us. “It’s not me I’m worried about, cowboy.”
His jaw flexes and the wind picks up, rustling the plastic bag in his hand. “Fuck them all, Maggie. Fuck Knox right the hell off.”
I can’t help but chuckle at his words . . . The serious look on his face as he says fuck and Knox in the same sentence.
“Yeah, well, I’m no saint, but Kade Knox is the last man I’d fuck. Just so you know.”
I know that’s not what he meant, but the need to lighten the mood overrides everything else. His face slackens and I have to tamp my urge to pat his stunned, handsome face. Instead, I round Betsy’s grill and haul my slightly inappropriate ass in behind the wheel and fire her up.
This weekend is a singular event on Saturday, but the teams and crew—that’s me—are required the night before for setup, rundowns, and some kind of training for the riders. Which, you guessed it, the Pbr wants photos of.
We should get going, god knows there’ll be hell to pay if Hadley and I are the last ones there, rolling in with every set of eyes watching us arrive together, again.
Hadley climbs in and hands me a bottle of water. The cool condensation on the outside is bliss. I rub it over my face and neck, overheated from being outside with Knox, arguing a moot point.
I sigh, letting my head hit the backrest as my eyes close.
The cool trickle of the condensation rolls south past the V-neck of my tank and between my breasts.
A grunt has my eyes peep open. Hadley is shifting on his seat as he takes off his hat and organizes the snacks between us, gaze fixed on his hands.
Damn, he’s kind of cute when he’s flustered.
It is duly noted that I’m making him uncomfortable. The friend zone never looked so appealing.
“Ready, Jonesy?”
He slides his belt over and clicks it into the buckle, still not looking at me as his throat bobs. “Yup, when you are.”
I raise a brow, studying him for a beat before shifting Betsy into gear and turning out onto the highway.
Rodeo camp, here we come.
The sun is well and truly down by the time we make camp. We are, as I had dreaded earlier, the last ones to arrive. As we poke along the gravel driveway of the grounds, I see Brady and Spencer setting up their sleeping arrangements in the back of their trucks.
The rest of the Bravos team is here, including Knox. His big shiny black truck takes front row near the arena. Of course it does.
I pull Betsy round and park behind Brady’s truck, out of line of sight of the rest of the crew. Instantly, I hate myself for thinking we have anything to hide. We don’t. Apart from Knox and his big mouth, there is nothing to these accusations.
Nothing at all, to be precise.
Hadley spent the last three hours mostly silent, either on his phone or staring out the window at the incredible countryside as it flew past.
I kill the engine and sigh.
He finally drags his gaze from elsewhere to face me.
“You okay, cowboy?” The words are soft, almost an apology for my rawness at the gas station.
I shouldn’t be talking about who I would sleep with and then expect the trip in a confined space to go without a hitch.
He forces a smile and my gut swoops.
Shit.
“Yeah, I’m good. Might go catch Brady. See you later for supper.”
“Sure.”
He pushes from the van and shoves his hat on his head. His aviators sit on the dash. His snacks are hardly touched. I berate myself as my forehead hits the steering wheel.
God above, Maggie, we had a good thing going. Friends and a road trip. Why the hell did I have to go make things awkward?
Why?
I am such an idiot.
An idiot who has to spend the entire weekend avoiding Hadley Jones, to show the rodeo crew and team we are not in fact trading favors for sex, so I can sidestep the awkward shit heap I’ve dumped myself in.
Good lord, it’s going to be a long two days.