8. Callie
Chapter 8
Callie
The noise hits me first, the door clicking shut behind me as I step out of my room, quickly followed by the fatty smell of barbecue frying nearby. The parking lot’s full of rowdy bull riders, lost without their adrenaline fix. They’re causing an absolute ruckus, taking over the entire space, each one yelling over the other. These are some of the most competitive men in the country, and it doesn’t stop just because they’ve left the arena.
I make my way down the stairs, scanning over faces, searching, until I spot them, breath catching in my throat. Maverick and Colt are both leaning against Maverick’s truck just to the left of the stairs. They’re silent, arms crossed, looking anywhere but at each other. Their brows pinch in the middle, feet tapping on the ground in the exact same cadence. I wonder if it’s being so alike that’s kept them apart, both too stubborn to ever let anything go.
I take them in while they aren’t looking, and there’s a soft, electric current humming under my skin. The sun’s setting, casting them in golden light, highlighting the sharp edge of their jaws, the scruff from the day’s travel giving them a rugged appearance. Heat pools in my stomach, a low ache I force myself to ignore. After years of being surrounded by city boys, these two are really showing off what I’ve been missing.
Maverick’s wearing a long-sleeve, deep blue shirt that complements his deep tan skin from hours spent in the sun. The sleeves are pushed back, revealing thick corded forearms that lead up to substantial biceps. He’s all wide shoulders and lean muscle, his thick quads filling out his jeans perfectly. There’s something about his closed-off expression, the utter calmness, that sparks something in my chest, because I know he can’t maintain that mask with me. He never has. For him—for me—for us, there’s never been a need for a mask.
Colt’s physique is harder to make out under his jean jacket, but no less tempting. His hair falling over his eyes, casting them further into shadows. His teeth gnaw on his full lips, and I have the overwhelming urge to bite them. It’s easy to see why the girls hover around him. If Maverick’s rigid, Colt’s his mirrored opposite flexible, easygoing, with a quick smile. That glint in his eyes, the one he normally shows the world, is missing as he stares blankly somewhere in the distance.
“Don’t you two look handsome.” Tied to them by an invisible string, I skip down the stairs, my pulse quickening with each inch closed between us.
Their heads snap up at my approach, and the force of their attention lands solidly in my chest. There’s always something a little wild about cowboys, but that’s not what this is. There’s something untamed about them, like there’s something hidden within just waiting to get out and it’s fixed its attention on me. It’s a heady sensation to be their sole focus, equally thrilling and terrifying. Getting too close to men like this is like standing too close to a fire and begging to be burned.
I force a smile when Colt wraps an arm around my shoulder, tugging me close.
“You look gorgeous tonight, Sunshine.” He leans in, mouth inches from my temple, so close it ruffles my hair. He’s warm and welcoming, like a soft spot to curl into, and I have to fight the urge to pull him closer. My mouth is bone-dry, my throat raw, as I breathe in his woodsy scent. I can’t help but crave him like a cool glass of water after a month in the desert. With each inhale, his scent envelops me more, filling my lungs until my head grows fuzzy and my body tingles. It doesn’t take long for the feel of him to turn that sensation into hunger, a gnawing ache deep inside me that only they can fill.
I’m barely toeing the line of friendship as it is, and I’ll forever be grateful that telepathy isn’t a thing. Strong fingers catch my jaw, tilting my chin up until I’m faced with sharp blue eyes. I’m captured, unable to look away as he searches for answers. The slow smile curling his lips tells me he found exactly what he wanted.
Maverick saves me, tugging my arm, freeing me from a reluctant Colt’s hold. The moisture is sucked from the air as an electric charge sparks between them. Cold eyes glare into each other, neither willing to back down.
Spinning out of their reach, I use my best mom voice. “Don’t freaking start. We’ve been on the go all day, and all I want is a cold beer and a warm burger. Whatever silent dick-measuring contest you’re playing at can fuck right off.”
Color washes over their cheeks, both looking abashed for being caught. Is it weird to call two grown men adorable? Because they totally are.
“I promise to be on my best behavior,” Mav says, then points at Colt. “Can’t say the same for this one.”
“You can fuck right off with that,” Colt clips out.
I give them my back, walking into the crowd, counting in my head. They’ll fight all night if I let them, and we don’t have time for that. It’s less than five seconds before they’re right behind me, like a solid wall.
Maverick’s chest brushes my shoulder as he says, “Stay close tonight. These assholes can be a real handful once they get drunk.”
I spin on them, despising that misogynistic rhetoric. “And that means I should change my behavior because they can’t control themselves?”
“No.” Colt’s head tilts to the side, and he replies like it’s obvious. “You do whatever you want. We’ll take care of anyone who’s stupid enough to get close to you.”
Why do those words send a thrill down my spine, triggering a primal want? I’ve been fine taking care of myself for a long time… but I have to admit, the protectiveness radiating off them is hot.
“And what if I want them to get close to me?” I don’t. Any of these guys come within a two-foot radius and they’re in for a bad night, but for some reason, I want to see how Colt and Maverick react to this. Friends wouldn’t have a problem. Hell, they could offer to wingman… but what will they do?
A low, deep rumble vibrates through the air, a warning if I’ve ever heard one, sending electricity arcing across my skin. Their reactions are instantaneous, the tension coming off them palpable as they crowd me.
“Fuck that,” Colt says, then freezes when I raise a single brow. I wasn’t planning on going anywhere near the men here, but the challenge in Colt’s voice is just enough to motivate me.
“Try again,” I say, giving him one more chance.
Maverick looks like he wants to strangle him, knowing exactly what he’s set off. Colt inhales, runs his hand through his hair, pulling at the ends before meeting my gaze. “Please, hang out with us tonight. I just… I’m not sure I can handle these guys being anywhere around you.”
He’s almost desperate, like it really would hurt him, and any remaining defiance I’m feeling washes away with his words.
“That was the plan all along.” I smirk.
Colt looks equal parts relieved and frustrated.
Maverick sighs, his patience with us already running out. “Luke’s truck is set up over there. Take a seat, and I’ll grab you some food.”
“Me too?” Colt asks.
“Get your own food,” Maverick answers instantly.
“Come on, man. I’m going to stay with Callie.”
“Not my problem.” Maverick gives me one last look, completely ignoring Colt, before heading off.
A muscle ticks in Colt’s jaw, his brows pinched as he stares a hole into Maverick’s retreating back.
I slip my hand into his, entwining our fingers, and just like that, his attention is back on me. His eyes are warm as he looks down at our hands, then back at me, giving them a light squeeze. Any anger simmering has been doused by that simple gesture, and he’s now almost giddy, guiding me, a wide smile on his face.
“Hey, there you are,” Luke calls out. “I was half expecting the three of you to hole up in your rooms.”
“Trust me. We thought about it,” Colt answers, helping me into the bed of the truck. “She wanted to come out.”
“Why are you saying it like that?” I say, scooting on my butt until I can lean against the cool metal.
“Yeah, man.” Luke’s grin turns mischievous, an all-knowing glint in his eyes. “There’s food, music, and drinks. Who’d want to miss this?”
Colt climbs in and takes the spot next to me, his hand finding mine again. He holds them up between us, examining how my small palm fits in his. “Yeah… it’s not so bad after all.”
Warmth fills my stomach at the awe in his voice. He sounds like he finally found something he’s been looking for.
Luke clears his throat. “Man, you are so screwed.”
Colt snorts. “Tell me something I don’t already know.”
They aren’t subtle, and it’s easy to decipher the undercurrent of what they’re saying. There’s a small flame lit in my chest, one I keep protected from the outside, and he’s stoking it. Hope and want are two of the most dangerous things. It’s not fair for me to hope he wants me as much as I’m starting to want him.
The thought ricochets in my head, bouncing off the walls until I’m forced to acknowledge that there’s no amount of resistance on my part that could prevent my reaction to the two of them.
“That buckle bunny’s hot. You think they’ll take turns?” The guy doesn’t even bother to lower his voice.
Colt stiffens beside me, his muscles pressed against the side of my thigh tightening. “What did you just say?”
“Fuck.” Luke’s already pushing the guy backward, shaking his head in warning. “Why does everyone around here have a death wish? Save it for the arena.”
“What? I’m just stating the obvious.”
It’s Colt holding me back as a current of rage stokes a fire in my gut. Guys like him are scum of the earth. They think they’re better than everyone meanwhile, they’re whining when they can’t get a date.
Colt’s laugh lacks any amusement. “You better watch it. You have no idea who you’re talking to.”
“What, she your girl?”
“She’s the heir to Harper Ridge Ranch,” Luke says.
The idiot’s face pales in recognition. “You’re… I’m sorry.”
My grin is sharp as I lean forward. “You keep fucking around like this and you’re about to find out. I’ll make sure you’ll never ride on one of our bulls again. Do you know what that means? Hmm? It means you’ll have a very short career.”
I’m bluffing. Just because my family breeds them, once we’ve sold the bulls to the league, we have zero control. But this guy doesn’t know that. Everyone knows Harper Ridge Ranch produces the rankest bulls, and without them, a rider doesn’t stand a chance.
If you can stick the eight, you’re guaranteed a good score.
The guy removes his hat and bows his head. “I… I didn’t know who you were. I’m very sorry, ma’am.”
“If I hear you whisper the term buckle bunny again, you are done. Do you understand? You might as well pack up and head home.”
Colt tries to muffle his snort, enjoying this exchange entirely too much.
“Yes, ma’am. I’ll never say it again. Promise.”
Now that his hat’s off, I can see he’s younger than I thought. Hopefully, he takes this to heart.
“Let’s get you out of here before you say anything else stupid,” Luke says, wrapping his arm around the kid’s shoulder.
He looks relieved, staring at Luke like he’s his savior.
A laugh bubbles up from my chest, and I tip my head back to rest on the metal. “That felt good.”
“I bet it did. I thought he was going to piss himself. He’d have probably preferred I punched him.”
I huff. “He deserved it.”
“Oh, definitely.” Colt’s amusement is clear in his voice, tinged with pride. “I’m pretty sure that kid’s never going to talk again, let alone say shit like that.”
The breeze picks up, lifting the hair on the back of my neck, and I shiver. Colt shifts beside me, shrugging off his jacket, laying it over my shoulders. The fabric is still warm from his skin, soft against the goose bumps rising along my arms, then tucks me into his side.
“If you’re cold, we can go in,” he says, his lips brushing the shell of my ear, and I’m anything but cold, shivering for a whole new reason.
“Ketchup and mustard, right?” Maverick says, his hands full of an assortment of food.
I nod, mouth watering as he passes me my burger, a red cooler placed in front of me filled with ice and beer.
Colt’s eyes widen when a burger’s tossed at him, the tin foil wrapper barely holding it together. “You got me a burger?—”
“Not a word,” Maverick cuts him off, hurling himself into the truck and taking the spot on my other side, sandwiching me between them.
To my surprise, Colt obeys, only unwrapping his dinner and taking an enormous bite.
There’s no room, their legs pressing against mine, the heat of their bodies seeping into my skin, but I’m not complaining. Not when my nerves are lighting up, coming alive with every brush of their arms. My skin’s hypersensitive wherever they touch me, the simplest movement making my thighs rub together.
Maverick’s hand circles the spot just above my knee as he leans over to grab the cooler, bringing it closer to us.
There’s a low hum in the back of his throat, and his hooded eyes are molten when he faces me. Thick, humid air fills my lungs as I struggle for each inhale. We stay like that, time frozen around us until Colt breaks the moment, popping the cap off a beer and handing it to me. “You look thirsty.”
I snap my gaze back to him, searching for the double meaning and it’s right there, clear as day, painted across his face with a wide grin.
“Shut up,” I hiss.
“What? I never said it was a bad thing.”
It’s a dangerous, slippery slope, and my feet are skating right along the edge of a very steep cliff. Every fiber of my being calls me to let go and fall into it.
He’s back to his burger, and my stomach twists into a tight knot. What if I’m reading way too much into this?
Both of them are relaxed, enjoying their food, while I’m so wound up I can’t even taste mine.
I pound back my beer, then lean over to grab another, hatching a very dangerous plan. Somehow, things are going exactly how they should and nowhere near what I want.