23. I Know What You Need
23
I KNOW WHAT YOU NEED
WYATT
“ C ome on, Killer, don’t be like that. You’ll get ’em next time,” a cowboy in dark chaps says as I stride up to the rodeo stalls.
Dakota’s fall hadn’t been all that bad, but I still need to see her to make sure she’s okay, so I headed straight for the back pens after she finished.
Now, she’s the center of attention in a circle of fringe chaps and straw hats. The bull riders are the rock stars of the rodeo, so they tend to stick together, picking each other up after a bad ride, while also keeping to themselves.
There are a few little brown curls flying around her face, and I’ll never know how she manages to look so fucking stunning after getting thrown off a bull, but she does, and she does it well.
Another cowboy drapes an arm around her shoulder, and the move has my jaw tightening, but I’m not going to do anything about it because, for all I know, this guy could have also been stuck in the friend zone for over a decade.
Turns out, I don’t have to do anything since she shrugs him off herself. “Get your arm off me. I don’t want to hear it, Brodie. I’m fine.”
I can hear the wobble in her voice, but I don’t think they can.
The other cowboy smacks her shoulder. Her glare magnifies.
“You could always try practicing on some easier bulls again,” Brodie says. “It’s not like you’re on a time crunch. You can go for the Pbr draft in a couple of years.”
She’s quiet.
Fuming.
The guy, Brodie, slowly lets go of her, taking a step back. Then another, and another. Until eventually, she grits out, “I’ll make sure to consider that next time, but just so you know, I will be gunning for the draft. I’ve got my sights set on the Austin Rattlers, so you can expect to see me on those aggressive bulls again.”
Brodie holds up his hands in an I Swear I’m Not Guilty gesture. “Goddamn, Killer, I was only trying to be nice.”
She gets up in his face but keeps her voice steady. “I don’t need you to be nice, Brody. I heard what you said earlier, so don’t spew this bullshit. Just be honest.”
Now I need to know what’s got her so pissed off. I stride up to the group of cowboys, nudging one with my shoulder. “What the hell did he say earlier?”
Dakota must not be surprised I’m back here because she keeps that glare fixed on him. “He said I’d never make it to the Pbr, isn’t that right, sugar? You’ve been lying right to my face with all that room-temperature encouragement.”
Now, I’m the one fuming.
Brodie takes off his hat, running a hand through his dark hair, looking somewhat sheepish. That’s not good enough for me. Dakota steps back, and I stride right up to him, towering over Brodie with my extra few inches of height.
That’s one thing we hockey players have on bull riders—we’re taller.
“You’ve got two options. Either apologize or own up to what you said,” I demand .
In my periphery, Dakota’s brows shoot up in a look that seems half surprised and half impressed.
Brodie’s jaw works, and he glances at her like he’s debating what to do.
“Fine,” he mutters. “I don’t think you’ll make it. You’re too in your head. It’s gonna be a while before you get on the level needed for the Pbr. Boone called it in that interview.”
I see Dakota sniff out of the corner of my eye, but she remains silent. I’m not expecting her to throw a punch because she doesn’t stand up for herself unless it’s something worth fighting for. She’ll let all the bullshit roll right off, but when it comes to her friends? Her family?
She would do anything for them.
Which is why I’ll always stand up for this woman.
I grip Brodie’s fringe jacket with everything I’ve got, lowering my voice to a vicious growl. “I can’t wait for her to prove you wrong.”
He stares.
I glare back.
Releasing him, I step away as Dakota spins around, colliding right into me. I catch her shoulders to steady her, and she grabs my wrists. There’s something in her eyes—gratitude, maybe? I can’t be sure because she shakes me off and strides toward the horse stalls. She’s not getting away that easily. I follow her instantly, but I catch the tail end of the cowboys’ discussion.
“Guess the rumors are true. I’d heard Kodie Cutler could be kind of rude, but that glare is something else. Sexy as shit, but terrifying.”
I slow my steps.
“Woo yeah, buddy, you do not want to get on her bad side,” Brodie agrees, his footsteps echoing.
“Boone lucked out,” he says, voices dimming. “Could you imagine spending a lifetime with that ?”
“Fuck no,” he says. “One night, sure, but not a whole life.”
That makes me grind to a screeching halt.
“Careful, boys,” I call out with clenched fists, trying not to let my fuse snap. “You should watch that tone, or she might come after y’all.”
At least they have the audacity to look a little guilty. I’m seriously tempted to knock some sense into them, but they aren’t worth my time, and I’d rather go after Dakota to make sure she’s okay. Her outside might be steel, but her inside is pure gold. These guys don’t know her like I do.
She’s been keeping the fridge stocked with blueberries for Vienna, and she claims it’s because she likes them, but I know it’s really because I told her my baby girl loves them.
No one buys five boxes of blueberries at the grocery store just because. She softens for the people close to her, and I’m lucky that Vi and I are two of those people.
I follow her to a quiet area by the wooden horse stalls. She’s hunched over on a hay bale, feeding a lump to one of the brown and white Broncos. She’s always been an animal lover, so I’m not surprised to find her watching him chomp through the metal grates.
“What’re you doing back here?” she mumbles, looking at the horse through the bars and not me. “I’m not going to be good company tonight. Not after that fall, so you best be on your way. Leave me with my bottle of painkillers and Epsom salt. Maybe throw in some tequila.”
“Let’s get one thing straight.” I move closer to her back, breathing in the salty smell of her sweat mixed with leather. It’s rugged and fucking sexy. “I don’t care if you’re good company. The reason I came tonight is because I wanted to support you after all the training we’ve been doing, and don’t you fuckin’ dare listen to a word out of that asshole’s mouth. You’ve got everything it takes.”
“Yeah, sure.” She makes a noise that’s louder than the horse snorting, feeding him another bundle of hay. “I lasted a whole six and a half seconds, didn’t you see?”
Her voice doesn’t crack, wobble, or waver. It’s bursting with sarcasm so heavy it can only mean she’s trying to hide her hurt, but I can see through her.
I always do.
This is her norm, tearing herself down before anyone else can. She imagines the worst-case scenario first, that way if it ever happens, she can claim she saw it coming. But if she needs someone to lift her up, I can be that man.
I can be her best-case scenario.
I straddle the hay bale behind her and start massaging the back of her neck. She goes ramrod straight against my chest, but when I knead my thumb at the base of her neck, she lets out a moan that goes right to my dick.
I put some distance between our bodies so she doesn’t notice me getting slightly hard.
Now is not the time.
“What’re you doing?” she asks.
“Massaging you,” I say nonchalantly, though I feel anything but. My body’s buzzing with need.
“Why?”
“’Cause you’re tense. Stop fighting me on it, and let me take care of you,” I murmur in the shell of her ear.
“You’re too good for me,” she mutters, more to herself.
“No,” I counter. “I’m just good for you, and you’re good for me.”
Goosebumps pebble on her neck, and her brows quirk like she’s not sure what’s happening, but I’m done holding myself back.
“Now, listen up.” I lightly slap her thigh, and she jerks, staring down at my hand.
She sucks in a deep breath, seeming to shake off some thought, but all I do is grip her tighter. “No more beating yourself up. Yeah, you fell down, but you’re damn good at picking yourself back up. That’s what you’re gonna do because it’s one of my favorite things about you. You know who I always imagine Vi growing up to be like?”
She twists her head back to meet my gaze. “Who?”
She’s picking at her nails again, so I interlace my fingers through hers to stop her from hurting herself. “Someone like you. Brave. Strong. Caring for the people you love.”
“I don’t feel like a very good role model for anyone right now.” She blinks rapidly and tries to turn away, but I grip her chin, forcing her to focus on me. Her lips part.
I know that means something to her, but she’s not good at accepting compliments, so I press on. “You are. Now, you’ve still got a few weeks until the Granite Falls rodeo, so all you need to do is loosen up. I was watching, and you’re still stiff.”
“I know, okay?” she says, sounding slightly breathless, and I’m hoping it’s from my touch and not the ride. “I’m trying to loosen up out there, but it’s tough when I’m being thrown around by a two-thousand-pound animal. All those doubts come flying back in. My instinct is to hold on, and then I lock up.”
Pulling away, she tightens her arms around her body in a barricade. When she was younger, she used to run around wild and free, but her spirit’s been caged. It’s still there, but she needs someone to open the door. She needs…
A slow grin unfurls on my mouth, and I reach for her hand, interlacing our fingers together. “Why don’t you put on one of those pretty dresses? We’re going out.”
“Oh?” she says, straightening with a small grin that makes me feel like I won the lottery. “You’re taking me out this time?”
I quirk a half-smile, rubbing her arms while trying very hard not to think about taking her home to bed. “You and I are going two-stepping. A little dancing’s just what you need, honey.”