13. Cowboy Killer
Cowboy Killer
CASH
SEPTEMBER
Iwas a man possessed.
Enchanted.
Spellbound.
And Ollie Ravenwood was the witch who’d cast a spell on me.
It’d been just over a week since the fire. A week of seeking her out—the little she-devil still hadn’t given me her number, forcing me to follow her around like a lovesick puppy. A week of teasing and taunting and verbal sparring, as she so liked to call it.
I hadn’t even kissed her yet, and I was wrapped around her pretty little red-polished fingers. There was something different about her. And I know I said that a lot. Many times before, in fact. But every second I spent in that witch’s presence made one thing abundantly clear.
She was unlike any woman I had ever met in my life.
And I didn’t care what the hell I had to do—grovel, beg, plead—I’d have Ollie, one way or another. If she’d have me. And she would. She might act like she was immune to my charms, but I think she found me just as intriguing, just as intoxicating as I found her.
“The fuck are you doin’ here?” Mav asked as he walked out of my parents’ barn, toting some hay bags for the trailer over his shoulder.
It still caught me by surprise every now and then that he’d stopped wearing long-sleeves so much, opting to show his scars instead of hide them like he had for most of our lives.
I’d never be able to thank Chey enough for the confidence she gave my cousin.
I shrugged. “Figured I’d get shit ready to go.”
We had a rodeo this weekend, and I had a plan that’d finally win over my little witch.
“What?” Maverick pinned me in place with a blank stare, his jade eyes burning with silent questions.
“What, what?” I flashed him a grin. “We got a rodeo to get to, right? I’m here to help get ready to go.”
He opened his mouth to speak, but closed it a second later before shaking his head as he continued on toward the trailer.
“Wait, Maverick, don’t move!” My dad cried out in alarm.
Oh, this oughta be good… Craning my neck to look back at him, I braced myself for whatever joke he was about to make at my expense.
My dad ran out of the barn before wrapping an arm over Mav’s chest and pulling him away from me with a dramatic flourish, as if stopping him from stepping on a coiled up rattlesnake.
“That was close!” Dad thumped Mav on the back and pointed at the ground, one of those shit-eating smirks hiding in the corners of his mouth. “You almost stepped in the bullshit!”
“Ha ha,” I huffed, flipping my dad off.
Maverick chuckled, a rare smile lighting up his usually hard-as-stone features.
“What’s all the commo—what the fuck are you doing here?” Ryder strode out of the barn with his horse Boone in tow. His brows pinched together as he looked around. “Is somethin’ else on fire? Who’s hurt?”
“That’s real funny,” I snapped, tugging my hat down onto my head. “Y’all are fuckin’ hilarious.”
Ryder pulled off his hat a moment, scratching at his head. “I can’t remember the last time Cash helped get anythin’ ready to leave for a rodeo.”
“Cuz it ain’t ever happened,” Dad all but crowed.
Bunch of assholes, the whole lot of them.
“Bullshit!” I challenged, wracking my brain to come up with a time when I had, in fact, helped to load the trailer. “There was that one time... When we went to Forth Worth…”
The grin on my dad’s face was practically feral. Not much brought him more joy than making fun of me any chance he could. “The time you ran out the barn naked with that Karkoula girl and y’all were covered in puke cuz you was hungover and up-chucked all over her?” he supplied helpfully.
Mav shook his head, his tone serious despite the rare smile he wore. “No, I think he’s talkin’ about the time he fell asleep in the trailer takin’ a piss and woke up when we started loadin’ horses.”
“What about the time—” Ryder began.
“Alright,” I replied, cutting him off, “the point is, I was here.”
I didn’t need to relive those moments, and we still had shit to do, places to go, people to see. One very hot, very fiery one in particular.
A sound drew my attention back to the entrance to the barn. Mama’s little chihuahua, Bodacious, trotted out into the sun, sneezing the whole time.
“Why is the dog out here?” I asked with a frown. The chihuahua stopped when he heard me and growled. He hated just about everyone other than my mama, but the little shit seemed to hate me the most of all.
“He couldn’t believe it either.” Dad laughed. “Wanted to see for himself.”
“Fuck off.” I wasn’t sure who the curse was for more: my dad or the damn dog. Bodacious was the only real competition I had for Mama’s affection and attention. I bet I could effortlessly get all the girls too if I weighed four pounds and had ears longer than my own dick.
The chihuahua stopped growling to sneeze. Three times. Four. Five. Six.
“What the hell’s wrong with him?” I asked. “He finally dyin’?”
“My guess?” Dad shot me a mean-spirited grin as he opened the trailer’s tack room door. “He ran into that cloud of Axe body spray orbitin’ around you and his nose couldn’t take it.”
“I don’t wear Axe!” I shot back, earning laughs from Mav and Ryder.
“Whatever you got on, it’s too much, bud.” Ryder winked and waved a hand in front of him. “You smell like a high-school locker room.”
“That reference won’t do him any good.” Mav cracked a thin-lipped smile. “He never actually went to the locker room in high school.”
These assholes thought they were so clever, so damn slick with their jokes. Well, I had a few of my own.
“Hey—” I rolled out my shoulders and mustered up one of my cockiest grins. “You don’t tie a thoroughbred champion in the same washrack stall as one of those dumb-ass ranch horses. I don’t mingle with commoners.”
Ryder scoffed, and gestured at Mav, my dad, and himself. “Yet, here you are. Helpin’ us commoners load the trailer.”
“Helpin’.” Maverick huffed. “Damn dog is more help.”
Dad’s voice was like the crack of a whip as he said, “Here.” I turned just in time to catch the saddle he all but threw into my arms. “Now, you’re helpin’.”
“So, why are you really here?” Ryder asked, running a hand down Boone’s forehead affectionately. “All dressed up in your most pink shirt, smellin’ like senior prom?”
“I told you fuckers, I’m here to help.” I threw the saddle onto the floor of the tackroom, not bothering with putting it on one of the saddle racks.
God knows I’d probably put it on the wrong one anyway and Mav would insist on changing it.
He was all about order, neatness. Me, well, I was messy as they came.
But that was the beauty of havin’ my cousin around—he’d be sure to clean up all my messes.
“Oh yeah?” Dad asked, bringing another saddle out of the barn. “What order do we load the horses into the trailer?”
Well, at least that I could answer. Crossing my arms over my chest, I said with confidence, “Black Betty goes last.”
Dad dropped his head and shook it before heaving a sigh. “I set the bar too low, that one’s my fault.” He looked at Ryder and Mav before returning his familiar hazel gaze to me. “Black Betty ain’t goin’ anywhere, she’s hurt. Who goes in right before her?”
Well, fuck. Was it Boone or Playboy? I didn’t even get the chance to respond, Dad’s smirk already widening on his weathered face.
“I’ve seen that look before… Same stupid one he had on his face the first time he saw him a pair of wild tits.”
Mav’s grin was borderline vicious. So much for my sweet, docile cousin. Maybe I was wrong. Maybe the confidence Chey gave him wasn’t such a good thing. “And the first night he met Kelsea Karkoula.”
“And the time he came out of that porta-john with those twins at that jackpot ropin’,” Ryder added.
Dad laughed, the sound louder than a crack of thunder. “Aww, Cash is in love. Tell me it ain’t that dark-haired bartender who works for Hux?”
Fuck, was I really that transparent? I mean, it’s not like I was keeping some big secret, but I liked to think myself somewhat mysterious. Weren’t your friends and family supposed to support and uplift you? Make you feel good about yourself? They sure knew how to try and shoot me down.
Good thing Big Daddy’s bullet proof.
“What if it is?” I challenged, the words coming out a bit more growl than I intended. “What’s wrong with her?”
“Wrong with her?” Dad shook his head. “There ain’t nothin’ wrong with her, there’s something wrong with you, boy. What’dya think that girl’s gonna do to ya when you try and do what you do best?”
I frowned. “What’re you talkin’ about?”
“The CASH system?” Maverick offered me a pointed stare. “That shit ain’t work with her. Not that girl.”
“I ain’t usin’ the CASH system,” I insisted, already feeling my hackles rising as a wave of defensiveness surged to life in my chest. You know everyone was a fucking damn critic. “I’m just…bein’ myself.”
“Whoa now…” Ryder seemed the only one intent to keep the mood somewhat light as he threw his hands up in the air and chuckled, “He’s turnin’ red. He might actually be in love.”
Instinct drew my eye to Maverick. He didn't say anything, but I could read his thoughts easily enough.
Yeah, like he was with Jacie.
I appreciated him not voicing that thought aloud, but the unspoken threat in his eyes made me want nothing more than to prove him wrong.
Not that I loved Ollie. Hell, I didn’t even know her.
But I was sick and tired of people thinking they knew me better than I knew me.
Sick and tired of people thinking that I didn’t have the capacity to be anything other than what I was: a cowboy casanova.
“Whatever,” I scoffed. “I’m here now, ain’t I?
So let’s get goin’!” I clapped my hands together and Bodacious started barking at me.
“Get outta here, you little shit!” I hollered and ran towards the dog, expecting him to turn tail and run.
Instead, he charged towards me and went after the heel of my boot.
Dad howled in laughter. “That showed him!”
“You should’ve told me you were gonna do that.” Ryder slapped me on the back, a wide grin showcasing the scar on his right cheek. “I would’ve taken a video on my phone. That would be sure to impress your new girlfriend.”
“Y’all fuckin’ suck.”
“Trailer ain’t gonna load itself, dickheads,” Dad said, scooping up Bodacious. “Hurry up while I take the dog back to his mama and tell her that you tried to stomp on him.”
He better not. Last thing I needed was Mama ganging up on me too.