Cowgirl Don’t Cry #2
I snorted. “Yeah, well, if I want diabetes, I’ll make sure to have some.” We both laughed before I added, “I just don’t want to cause problems.”
Hux shrugged. “So, don’t.”
As if it were that simple.
“So you think I shouldn’t go then?”
“Didn’t say that…” He shook his head. “I just said don’t cause problems.”
“I basically have a sign over my head that reads ‘doesn’t play well with others’.”
He nudged me once more. “You know, you’re prickly, like a damn fuckin’ cactus, Ollie Pop, but that don’t mean people don’t wanna be around you. You don’t gotta always be alone. You got us.”
Damn him. More tears blurred my vision. Wiping at my cheeks, I muttered, “That dummy cow isn’t gonna rope itself. Besides, if you don’t hurry your broken ass up you’re gonna be late for your pageant, old man.”
Hux flashed me a shit-eating grin that reminded me of Cash. “I already finished workin’ horses earlier today. And I only told you to do another hundred so you’d come outside.”
“What the hell?” I hissed. “So you’ve been having me rope all this time for no reason?”
And as if my wrist and arm were some sort of sentient beings, they both began to ache.
Hux shrugged, that damn grin still illuminating his face. He really was attractive, Quinn was one lucky girl. “Ain’t nothin’ wrong with some extra practice.”
I muttered a curse—okay, a whole string of curses under my breath.
“I need your help,” he admitted.
So that’s why he’d brought me outside. Fucker.
But also very Hux-like. And It’s not like I minded.
Much. I mean, I was sore and cold as hell, but he was right.
I didn’t half-ass shit. If I did by some small miracle stay here until the roping competition, I didn’t want to be good.
I wanted to be great. Didn’t mean I wasn’t going to complain a bit though. “With what?” I snapped.
“I gotta pick up Quinn’s gift.”
Of course. I’d basically become his personal chauffeur when it came to errands. He always complained about Walker’s driving. “Fine, I’ll drive.”
A soft laugh escaped him as he nudged me playfully. “Well, damn, I thought I would today.”
My answering laughter echoed off the barn walls as I put the roping dummy away.
This was so not a good idea.
I bit back a curse for, like, the twentieth time since getting into the city.
I hated being in the hustle and bustle of it all for yet another time today.
Then add in all the extra holiday traffic—well, just fuck me.
God, I hated Christmas. Hated how shitty people could be around the holidays.
Sure, the lights were pretty and the songs were catchy, but people were selfish and rude, and going into shops during a holiday sale was like entering a grocery store during a zombie apocalypse.
Not to mention all the money wasted on stupid gifts.
Christmas had never made sense to me growing up, and it probably never would now.
Wasn’t the whole reason for the season religious or, at the very least, altruistic?
It was a time to celebrate with loved ones and come together and spread cheer. Not that I’d know anything about that.
“Oh, fuck off!” I finally shouted uselessly as some jackass cut me off and then proceeded to flip me off when I honked at him.
Where the hell was that holiday cheer now?
“I hate Christmas,” I grumbled under my breath.
Hux’s chuckle was soft at my side. “Thanks for bringin’ me. I’d have gone on my own if I could.”
I waved a dismissive hand through the air then realized how useless the gesture was. “It’s fine, I’m just being a salty bitch. I hate driving in the city, especially during the holidays.”
Another soft laugh escaped him. “You know, it ain’t all bad not bein’ able to see. I’m glad I don’t gotta drive in this bullshit.”
“It’s horrible.”
Silver Spurs’ loomed up before us on the right, and by some small miracle I managed to grab a spot that fit this behemoth of a ranch truck.
Seriously, we’d have been better off taking Quinn’s little car, or better yet, my bike, but neither of those were viable options right now.
Nor was I in any particular hurry to freeze my ass off on my bike again today.
I slowed my steps to match Hux’s measured ones, though I didn’t offer him an arm or anything like that. I’d learned quickly enough that he liked to—and was fully capable—of maneuvering around on his own.
A blast of warm air hit us as I opened the door, and Country Christmas music floated around us.
I’d never seen so much cowboy shit in my life.
Boots, tack, clothing. Hats. They even had a damn silversmithing station.
Hux seemed to know exactly where to go, and I marveled for yet the millionth time at how he managed to get around with such ease.
I mean, it probably wasn’t as easy as he made it look, but I was completely amazed at his independence.
“I gotta talk with the silversmith,” he called.
“Alright, I’m gonna look around. Shout if you need me.”
I scanned over rack upon rack of clothes, most a bit too girly and bright for my taste, before going to the walls—plural—of boots.
But in the end, I was drawn to the hat section.
I’d gotten the boots, traded my skinny jeans for bootcut Levis, but I hadn’t gotten a hat yet.
And like a bright lighthouse in a sea of stetsons, I was drawn to one in particular.
Stopping before it, I took it in its gorgeous extraness.
It was bright red and made of felt. An intricate painted leather hat band with silver and black rose designs rested around the base, complete with a small bunch of what were apparently turkey feathers.
The brim was wide, only curving up ever so slightly on the sides.
But the prettiest part was burned into the bottom of the felt brim—skeletons and flowers and a pair of aces.
Absolutely fucking gorgeous. Now, that was a hat I could see myself wearing.
I grabbed it off the display and carefully put it atop my head, searching for a mirror, but when I did…
Dear God, I looked fucking good. Which wasn’t arrogant or conceited—it was true.
I thought of the roping event coming up.
Now this hat would turn heads. Maybe I could get it…
I mean, it would be a good idea to have one if I decided to stay.
Besides, I was making decent money working for Quinn and Hux.
I could probably splurge a bit on myself.
Pulling off the cowboy hat, I glanced at the price and just about died.
Jesus Christ… My knees went weak and my heart skipped a beat or three.
$725.00
Holy fucking hell. That was… That was crazy. For a fucking hat? No. I couldn’t. I wouldn’t spend that ridiculous amount of money on a hat.
“That looks nice on you, miss.”
I swung around to search for the source of the voice. The man standing on the opposite side of the counter by Hux seemed like he’d been the one who’d said it. He was a bit older than Hux, his beard and hair beneath his cowboy hat mostly grey.
“Thanks,” I managed to get out, my gaze flicking to the mirror once more for a long mournful minute before blowing out a breath and pulling the hat off my head. “Definitely won’t be buying it, though. Not unless you guys take blow jobs as payment. There’s no way I’m paying that much.”
The man sputtered and coughed, his eyes bulging as he tried to formulate a response. Hux let out a bark of laughter. Returning the hat to its display, I made my way to Hux’s side.
“You value your blow jobs that highly?” Hux asked, his lips pulling up into a wry grin.
“Fuck off,” I huffed, nudging him with my elbow.
He just laughed and nudged me back. “What’s it look like?”
I couldn’t help but look at it across the way as I described it.
It was pathetic, but it’s like the damn thing called to me.
I didn’t care much for fancy, flashy things.
I paid a shit load for my bike, but that was a required expense.
I needed a mode of transportation. I didn’t need a damn hat.
“It’s beautiful. Not seven hundred twenty five dollars beautiful, though. No hat is.”
Hux shrugged at my side. “I mean, I paid more than that for a hat before.”
“Shut the fuck up.” I scoffed. “You better have, like, worn it ‘til it fell apart.”
He flicked the brim of his black felt hat. “It’s still goin’ strong about ten years later.”
I huffed. At least he was getting his money’s worth out of it…but still. “Don’t tell me you spend that much on boots.”
He laughed. “Nah, ain’t ever been a boots guy. I know others who’ll pay a lot more than that though, depending on the design and leather. But for me…ain’t nothing wrong with a plain old pair of Justins.”
I thought of Cash and how ridiculous he was with his clothes. I just about died when he’d shown me both of his closets. “Cash has a whole damn closet full of just boots.”
“Now that ain’t surprisin’ at all,” he replied, shaking his head. “Guy’s always been fuckin’ extra as hell.”
“He’s worse than a fucking girl,” I said with a huff of laughter. “I usually have to wait for him whenever we go out.”
His head fell back as he laughed. “That also ain’t surprisin’.” Sobering after a moment, he asked, “You gonna get him anythin’ for Christmas?”
I snorted. “Are you kidding? All I have to do is put a bow on me and I’m his fucking present.”
But I had gotten him something. Whether I actually gave it to him or not was another conversation entirely.
Hux’s answering smirk was full of mischief. “In more ways than one, I’m guessin’.”
He, along with everyone else, was intent on figuring out what was going on between Cash and I, but just like the rest of them, he could fuck right off and continue wondering.
The only people who needed to know what was going on with Cash and I were Cash and I. And even still, it was a touchy subject.