Chapter 9 #2
I had been doing really well, not thinking about Quinn while she was gone for the weekend.
And now, thanks to my nephew, she was officially back on my mind.
I lasted almost two days. It was harder not to think about her while she was here, seeing as she was in the stables more than in her own home, and fuck… I hated making that stupid bet.
In the back of my head, I had her. I was good at pool; I’d win and then sweep her off her feet during a drink.
Hell, I just wanted to get to talk to her.
But then, after, once Sam and I left The Steel, all my mojo left, and the next time I saw Quinn, I couldn’t think of a single thing to say to her.
At first, I wasn’t going to hold up my end of the bet.
My plan was to approach her, lean against the stall, and ask her out again and again until she finally said yes, but then when I froze… even I was confused.
No girl had ever made me freeze up like she did. No girl had ever caused me to shut down.
I was good with women. I could talk to them, flirt, and tease like it was in my job description. No strings, no commitments—just a good time.
Maybe Quinn wasn’t supposed to be just a good time? Maybe Quinn was supposed to be more?
But I couldn’t get to her. She was impossible to break through.
When I offered to go to rodeos with her, my hope was to spend time with her, to let her see the kind of guy I could be, and it would be a lie to say I was shocked when she said no.
I wanted to talk to her. I wanted to hear her laugh.
Get to know her. I wanted to help her thrive.
But she didn’t see that. All she saw was me chasing the rodeo royalty.
When in reality—I hadn’t wanted to chase anyone since I had set my eyes on her again.
Poppy let out a long, loud coo, bringing my full attention back to her. It didn’t even occur to me that I had stopped walking. I tugged on Rusty’s lead and took a step, inhaling as I looked at my niece.
“Barrel racer, huh?” I gave her bottom a pat.
“I can see it. She’s gonna love speed.” I let go of Rusty's lead and let out a ‘hiya’—his signal to gallop—and he took off.
Stetson laughed and kicked Marsh into a run, chasing after Rusty.
I could see Poppy on the back of a horse, her smile wide as she rounded every single barrel. Just like…
Stetson’s ‘yee-haws’ and shouts pulled me back into the moment, only slightly forgetting that Quinn Compton could teach Poppy how to ride the way she does.
Stetson and I closed up the stables, getting the night check done in record time, even with a baby strapped to my chest, and then made our way to Rhett’s place.
After Poppy was bathed and dressed in a pair a footie pajamas that I was jealous of, I gave her a bottle and we watched a few episodes of Bluey.
Those stupid dogs were more entertaining than half the crap I’d seen on television lately, and when it was time to turn it off and get Poppy in bed, I found myself saying, “One more episode.” I rocked Poppy until she was calm, her fingers wrapped around my thumb, and placed her into her crib right before she drifted off, the same moment I heard the front door open.
“Aunt Kyla,” Stetson whisper shouted. “Poppy loves horses!”
I chuckled, pushing Poppy’s dark hair back, leaving her room with the light click of the bedroom door, only to find myself facing Kyla, who looked like she couldn’t tell if she wanted to kill me or hug me. Her mouth dropped to say something, but I stopped her.
“Don’t worry.” I raised my hands. “I had her safely on my chest while I walked Rusty around. But she was completely taken by him.”
“No shit. She’s a Hartwell.” Rhett smiled, his hand running along Kyla’s shoulders.
Kyla’s face softened. “You didn’t have her on the horse?”
“No, Kyla, I didn’t have her on the horse. And…she’s not walking.”
Kyla scrunched her nose. “Sorry to be a buzzkill.”
“Not at all, just being a good mama.” I gave her a quick side hug before turning to my brother. “What score did you get?” I asked him, watching Kyla sneak into her daughter’s room.
Rhett grinned, waggling his eyebrows with pride. “Seven point two.”
“You were supposed to let the other guys win.” I smiled at my brother. “And Cash?”
“Scored a ninety-three.”
“Damn.” I raised a brow.
“Wyatt,” Kyla whisper-yelled as she came back into the living room. “She’s dead asleep. How!? She won’t fall asleep for me…only Rhett.”
I gave my brother a look and shrugged my shoulders like it was no big deal. “I’m the Poppy whisperer.” I gave her a wink. “Hey, Stet.” I reached out for my nephew, grabbing onto his shoulder. “Let’s get you back home. It’s late.”
Kyla pulled me in for a hug, thanking me for babysitting one last time.
I let her know Marsh attempted to eat her, but she was, all in all, a good baby, didn’t even fuss once.
Kyla made a comment on how I was now the designated babysitter, and I gave her a quick grin and thumbs up, pushing Stetson out the door.
Stetson recounted the entire night on the walk back.
Once we got to the main house, I had to hear the story for a third time as he told Cash and Abi, only stopping when Cash pushed him up the stairs to get him into his own bed, giving me a quick thanks before he disappeared upstairs, grumbling, “Okay, okay. You have school tomorrow.”
“Thank you,” Abi sighed, following me to the front door. “I saw Trevor there.”
Trevor was the head of a rodeo committee in Idaho, close friends with the guy I punched. I bit the inside of my lip and kept any thoughts of that night away.
“Oh yeah…how did that go?” I asked, my hand on the doorknob, my other reaching up to rub the back of my neck.
“Good, I guess.” She shrugged her shoulder. “Told me to tell you to call him.”
I gave her a nod, pulling her in for a side hug. “I will, I will,” I assured her, knowing damn well I wouldn’t. “Enjoy your night, sis.”
“Night, Wyatt. Thank you again.”
She shut the door behind me, and I heard it lock.
I stuck my hands in my coat pocket and started towards the bunkhouse, stopping only when I saw a familiar truck pull up.
The ground crunched as Quinn pulled to a stop, jumping from the cab the moment the engine was cut.
She slammed her door and stomped—literally stomped—to the trailer.
Narrowing my eyes, I slowly approached. I thought she would be back tomorrow, not close to ten on a Sunday night.
“You’re back early,” I said once I knew I was close enough, keeping my pace slow.
Quinn shot her gaze towards me, her ponytail whipping around her shoulders. “Don’t.”
I raised a brow in question. “Don’t what?”
“Don’t say anything tonight. I’m getting my horses in their stalls, and then I’m going home, and I don’t want to hear it from you tonight.”
“I wasn’t going to say anything. Need help?”
She dropped her arms, a loud groan escaping her as she looked up to the sky. “No, Wyatt. No. I don’t need help. I can take care of my own horses. Please just…” She sighed and looked back at me. “Just leave me alone.”
The anger that radiated from her was palpable. Just looking at her, I knew her weekend didn’t go the way she wanted it to—but—I wasn’t going to press. I dropped my chin and looked at my boots, kicking the dirt before I twisted towards my bunkhouse.
“Alright,” I sighed. “Well…if you need me”—I pointed to the bunkhouse—“you know where to find me.”
She didn’t respond. She just stood and kept her eyes on me, holding my gaze until my back was turned and I couldn’t see her anymore, still gorgeous even through the frustration of whatever was plaguing her.