Epilogue
EPILOGUE
Five months and some change…
Savvy.
I was nervous as I tightened my grip on the reins. This was my second rodeo, and even though I’d been working my ass off for months, I still felt that familiar twist of nerves low in my stomach.
I sat tall in the saddle with my eyes locked on the barrels ahead.
Then, I saw him leaning against the fence, arms crossed, looking as unbothered as ever and my world settled. His hat was pulled low and that lazy smirk was in place but his eyes were locked on me, steady and sure like always.
He winked, and the tension in my chest eased. I smirked, shaking my head. Damn cowboy.
The announcer called my name and I nudged my horse forward with my heart pounding hard as I lined up at the start. I took a breath and we shot forward with dirt flying and adrenaline surging through my veins as we approached the first barrel.
Too fast.
I felt it before we even reached the turn. My horse leaned into it too sharp, and I had to correct her mid-stride, throwing off our rhythm.
Damn it.
I pushed forward, moving cleanly through the second barrel but I could already feel the seconds slipping away. By the time I hit the last turn, I was frustrated and trying to salvage what I could. We crossed the finish, but I already knew the deal. Not great. Not terrible either but not what I wanted.
I pulled my horse to a stop with my breath heavy and disappointment sinking in. I worked too hard for this run to feel that sloppy.
I slid out of the saddle, already running through every little mistake in my head when I felt a presence behind me followed by that sexy teasing voice that had become a steady rhythm in my life.
"That was decent."
I turned to find Destry grinning at me with his hat tipped back so I could see his eyes.
I scowled and crossed my arms. “I know. I screwed up the first barrel.”
His grin expanded. “Yup.”
“You’re supposed to say something encouraging.”
He chuckled and stepped closer. “You looked sexy as fuck riding out there.”
“Not what I meant.”
He leaned in, his voice low and smug. “You want me to lie to you, Rebel?”
I groaned and shoved his chest, but he caught my wrists before I could get away.
"It wasn’t perfect, but you did that shit You’re competing. You think I won every ride on the way up? Hell no. But you get back up there and you go again. That’s what matters."
Before I could answer, a couple of riders passed by, one of them tipping his hat.
"Nice run," he said. "You’ve come a long way since your first one."
Another woman smiled as she walked past. "Looked good out there, Savvy. You’ll smooth it out next time."
I blinked, caught off guard by the compliments. I hadn’t expected anyone to notice me like that or care.
I glanced back at Destry, who stood beside me looking amused and proud with his arms crossed as he watched me taking it all in. He wasn’t used to being on the sidelines but I got the feeling he didn’t mind.
I smirked. “Jealous?”
“Not even a little bit.”
Before I could press him, he stepped forward, wrapping both arms around me, lifting me around his waist.
I gasped, laughing, and my arms instinctively locked around his neck as he turned us and I landed on the railing.
"You did good, Rebel.”
I hadn’t won but I was here, doing what I loved with a man I had fallen head over heels for.
Later that night, we were back at Forty Acres. Country music filled the bar, mixing with the low murmur of conversation and the occasional clatter of pool balls and glasses.
It felt familiar and comfortable just like the first night Destry had dragged me here for a drink. But this time, everything felt different.
I wasn’t sitting stiff, trying to figure him out or pretending like I didn’t enjoy the way he flirted with me. Tonight I was sitting beside him, lazy and content, sipping a cold beer while his arm casually rested across the back of my chair.
The energy in the bar was light and I could feel the exhaustion of the day settling into my bones in the best way. Destry had been quiet since we got here, more relaxed than usual with his fingers occasionally brushing against my shoulder and my waist but I was used to it. His small touches felt like second nature now.
He was watching me, though. I could feel it. I smirked, tipping my bottle toward him. “You got something to say?”
“Nah.”
I lifted a brow. “Then why are you staring at me?”
“Because I can,” he said with his voice relaxed and sexy.
I felt heat creep up my neck, but I played it off, rolling my eyes as I took another sip.
He chuckled, stretching an arm across the table, letting his fingers twist his beer. “How you feeling?”
I tilted my head, thinking about it. “Tired,” I admitted. “But good.”
He studied me the way he always did. “You disappointed?”
I knew he meant about the run earlier. I shrugged and my fingers traced the condensation on my beer. “A little.”
Destry nodded like he expected that answer but his expression remained calm. “Good.”
I narrowed my eyes. “Good?”
“That means you care and you want this. You’ll come back hungry for the next one.”
I grinned, shaking my head. “You really don’t let me sit in my feelings?”
He smirked, reaching out and gently tugging one of my loose curls. “Not when I know you’ll get in your own way if I do.”
I couldn’t argue with him because he was right. He knew me better than anyone. We sat there for a while, letting the bar move around us. It felt reminiscent of that first night we spent here but this time no bet was required for me to be sitting here with him. I was exactly where I wanted to be, willingly. After a while, Destry shifted, reaching for his hat and setting it down on the chair next to him.
“Come dance with me?” he said casually.
I lifted a brow. “You want to dance?”
He smirked, tipping his chin toward the floor. “Yeah, come on.”
I paused for a minute, taking him in. His low cut beard framed the angles of his jaw, neatly trimmed but still rough enough to give him that rugged, sexy appeal.
His tattoos peeked from under the worn cotton of his T-shirt with the ink trailing down his forearms contrasting against his smooth skin. I had traced those tattoos more times than I could count, running my fingers over them when he held me and pressed lazy kisses down my neck while we were tangled together in his bed.
Tonight, he was effortlessly casual—jeans, boots, and a simple white T-shirt that fit perfectly, clinging to the muscle beneath it. Simple but he was still the best damn thing in here.
The kind of man who turned heads without trying and carried himself with the kind of confidence that couldn’t be bought and he knew it.
“You gonna dance with me or stare, Rebel?
I hesitated, but then he stood, offering me his hand and I took it willingly.
He pulled me into him with one arm looping low around my waist, holding me against his chest as he swayed us to the song filtering through the speakers like he owned every second of it.
I leaned into his chest, feeling the rise and fall of his breath and the warmth of him surrounding me as we moved together in an unhurried, lazy rhythm. He kept his eyes on me, intense and focused, like nothing else in this bar, this town, or hell in this world, mattered.
Just me.
"You’re good at this?" I tipped my head up.
Destry smirked and his arms tightened around me. "Only when it comes to you."
I rolled my eyes but smiled too damn wide. There was something about this moment, the quiet way he held me close and the way our bodies fit so damn well together felt good. He was taking his time with me. It wasn’t about the dance. It was about us.
The way he tucked me against him like he’d done it a hundred times before. The way he swayed me without effort and the way my body already knew how to move with his. I let my head rest against his chest.
"Comfortable?" His lips brushed my temple.
I sighed. "Too comfortable."
Destry chuckled and the sound vibrated through his chest.
"Good.”
"Hey, Callahan!"
Destry barely glanced over his shoulder, still holding me against him, still swaying.
"You know you're sitting at number ten now, right? Still got a damn good shot at a buckle in Vegas."
I felt the shift in Destry’s posture, but his movements didn’t falter. He smirked, completely unbothered, and turned his head, answering in that slow, easy drawl.
"Yeah, I do," he said.
Then he looked back at me and his smirk deepened, turning into something else entirely.
"But right now? I'm focused on the woman in my arms." His lips brushed my forehead. “No buckle can compete with this."
…and I was done for.
I tilted my head back, letting my eyes drag slowly over Destry, taking him again. That lazy, easy grin smile was on his face. “Like what you see?”
I rolled my eyes, even as my stomach flipped. “Don’t flatter yourself.”
His grip tightened on my waist, pulling me closer as his lips brushed mine.
“Too late for that. I’ve got the sexiest woman in here.” He winked and I was done for. Again .