18. Warren
Jogging up to Dane, I hand him his bib number by slapping it against his chest.
“How’s that for a number?”
He grabs the paper and reads the number before turning an unimpressed stare my way.
“Wow. Tough crowd.” I pin my less exciting bib on with a snort. “And yes, I am.”
“Why are the numbers so high with such a small field? There’s only one flight of team ropers and half the number of tie-down ropers.”
I noticed that, too. “Probably just saving money and working through old bib numbers. Or maybe there were no shows. Could be anything.”
Dane stands at the rails as we watch the steer wrestlers. Since our explosive sex and his unexpected confession, it’s been hard not to feel the awkwardness between us. He’s kept true to promising not to tease me at events like he used to, but it’s like he’s a brand-new person.
Not that I don’t like this version, but it’s like his spark is missing, and I’m worried about what that will look like in the ring for us.
“So…we’re good, right?”
Dane’s blue eyes, stormy today, assess me. “Yeah, Burke. We’re good.”
“Cuz you’ve been super quiet, and I just wanted to make sure nothing—”
“Nothing is wrong. Let’s get the horses. Tie down will be up soon.”
Okay then.
We fall into our pre-event routines easily, and even though I shouldn’t really care if he’s in the right mind space, I do. He’s my partner, and if he’s all up in his head, it will play out in the ring. But damn it, he either talks and cries on my chest or is as chatty as a mime.
If he’s embarrassed about what we did or what he said, he shouldn’t be.
As we line up ready for the call of tie-down ropers, I look over to find him watching me.
“What?”
“Stop thinking about how to fix me. I’m fine.”
“Maybe I like you just the way you are, Dane. Ever think there’s nothing about you that needs fixing? Because you’re not broken to me.”
His nostrils flare as he turns to face forward again.
A classic deflection, and it’s fine. I won’t take it personally, but I know how it feels to be under the microscope.
To have all the well-meaning people in your life just trying to help.
When I first went to live with Hunter and Gabe, they just wanted me to be okay.
The constant therapy appointments, tutors, and homeschooling were a lot.
Almost too much because instead of feeling loved, I felt like a burden.
The breakthrough didn’t happen overnight, but when it did, it felt like I could solve the hardest math problem without a calculator. I can be patient with Dane as long as he keeps letting me get closer.
We line up in our order, with Dane two riders ahead of me.
I can’t see all the runs, but I know some are good and some are great.
When it’s Dane’s turn, my heart hammers harder as I wait.
The gates open, and the calf runs out with Dane throwing his rope and dismounting his horse in a blink.
There’s a very long pause, and it’s when the announcer comes on to say Dane’s time that I know he wasn’t perfect. He’ll be disappointed with that.
As the last rider out, all I know is that I need a fast, clean run to finish in the money.
Piggin rope gripped in my teeth, I nod to the official.
My throw is clean, and Petey does his job while I do mine.
After sprinting down the line, I heft the calf on its side and tie three legs together in a blur.
With my hands in the air, I wait until the official lowers his flag before untying the calf.
“Seems like the best was saved for last, ladies and gentlemen. Give the talented Warren Burke a round of applause for being tonight’s champion in tie down roping!”
Holy shit. I won!
The next several minutes pass in a blur as they ask for a photo of the top three finishers, and I do a victory lap. Once out of the ring, I find Dane at the trailer. He’s leaned against the side with his arms crossed, and as I draw closer, a tiny smile forms on his lips.
“How does it feel, Burke?”
Dropping to the ground, I lead Petey to the trailer and tie him while I weigh my words.
“Incredible. I won’t lie, but it felt like something was missing.”
“You beat me fair and square. Celebrate because hopefully it won’t happen again.”
The hardness from his eyes earlier is gone, and it never crossed my mind that he’d intentionally perform less so I could win. If he did, I’d kick his ass.
“We’ll see about that next time, won’t we?”
Dane huffs a laugh but still smiles. “You never believed in yourself, Warren. You could have beaten me so many times. You’re good at this. Great, even. So take the win.”
“I will, but it wasn’t the same not sharing it with you. Even after finally winning, it was odd not having you there.”
Dane’s gaze drops to his boots. The silence between us hangs until I finally break it.
“We’re gonna win team roping, though. We’re just getting started, Dane. One more rodeo before going home. Then it’s on to bigger money shows. This is our summer.”
With a nod, his gaze returns to mine.
“Let’s go win some money, then.”
After a quick break, we’re back in the queue for the team ropers, and I’m fidgety in the saddle.
“Warren. Relax.”
Dane rumbles without looking at me, and…it works. Just two words and I’m back in the headspace for our event. This time we’re middle of the pack, and after settling into the chutes, I focus on the task at hand. This is our night. I know it.
With a nod, the steer bolts from the chute with me and Dane right behind him. My catch lands clean, and Dane follows quickly right after. It’s so fast my heart is in my throat, wondering if we broke a barrier.
“How about this new pair of ropers, folks? That’s a 3.4-second run for Burke and Walker tonight, and that’s the time to beat!”
Exiting the ring, Dane seems far more relieved than happy about our time and placement.
“Great run, partner,” I say as I pull up alongside him, and we watch the rest of the field. “Think we could ever break the 3-second mark?”
“That’s a mighty ambitious goal.”
“Would be cool, though. We can definitely be faster.”
“We could.”
And that’s all Dane gives me. With the final riders done, nobody beats our score. It’s a joint victory lap, and once we’ve loaded the horses and I’ve reported to the prize officials, we’re on the road to our last rodeo.
“Mind if we just order supper in when we get there? I don’t want to eat more fast food or sit in a restaurant all smelly.” I love carnival food but it gets old fast.
“Yeah, that’s fine. I brought food anyway.”
“You did?”
All I’ve seen him snack on are peanut butter sandwiches.
“Yeah. I’ll just make a sandwich, no big deal.”
It kind of is a big deal. He’s a high-level athlete, and he should have fruit and vegetables and lean meat. Hell, even pasta. But his jaw is set again, the muscle twitching, and I let it drop.
The horses get stabled for the night in a facility outside of town, and we check into our shared motel room.
It’s nothing fancy, but it’s a bed to sleep in and a hot shower.
While Dane is in the shower, I pull up the DoorDash app, relieved I can get delivery here, and before I can overthink it, I place the order.
“Shower is all yours.” Dane exits the bathroom with a towel slung around his hips and water droplets clinging to his chest that make me extremely thirsty.
“Right. Uh, the DoorDash guy might arrive while I’m in there. The code is 1410.”
“No problem.”
He’s already rummaging in his duffel bag, so I duck in and rush through the shower with my heart in my throat. I exit the bathroom, much like he did, a towel around my hips just as he closes the door with a food bag in his hand.
“Perfect timing. Your food is here.”
Dane drops the bag on the tiny table before flopping back on his bed. I don’t even bother changing into my lounge pants in the bathroom. He’s seen it all and tasted it, so…modesty feels a little dumb.
“I found a place on the delivery app with Thai food. Have you ever tried Pad Thai?”
Dane shakes his head. “No.” He flips through the channels on the TV as I unpack all the food that covers the table before we even sit. His gaze flicks over quickly. “You gonna eat all that, Burke? That’s enough for an army.”
“I, ah…I ordered for two. I was hoping you’d eat with me?”
Jesus. It feels like the time I asked Waylon Roberts on a date at the bar when I was freshly 19. The same queasiness sits in my gut that Dane could punch me or call me names as I wait for his answer.
He inhales a deep breath before sitting up on the edge of his bed.
His arms hang between his legs, and his fingers lace together, squeezing and releasing as he remains silent.
My shaking hands remove the plastic covers from two sets of cutlery, and I set them on a napkin at the place across from me.
My stomach growls at the aroma from the food, and I sit with a final sad glance at Dane.
“I eat peanut butter sandwiches because it’s affordable. One jar and a loaf of bread can stretch. I…” He swallows, and I’m hanging on every single word from his lips. “I don’t have a lot of money, Warren. Every dime is important.”
“I didn’t mean to make you feel bad. I just want to feed you.”
Dane lifts his head, and I inhale sharply at the sadness in his gaze. He stands and slowly walks over to take his place. After he surveys all the dishes, he huffs a laugh. “There’s no way we’re both eating all this. You know that, right?”
“I think you don’t know my love of Thai food, then. I’m a bottomless pit for this stuff.”
Finally, he relaxes and picks up the plastic fork.
“Okay then. Tell me where to start.”
For the next hour, we talk like it’s a real date.
Dane loves shrimp more than chicken and prefers a sweet sauce over a hot sauce.
At one point, I stared at him like he was an alien, because that’s what it felt like.
The man who liked to poke me a little too hard when I lost and genuinely acted like a prick isn’t like that at all.
He’s possibly the most incredibly sweet man I’ve ever known.
“So, what’s with the rabbit tattoo?” he asks as we settle on our beds with full bellies. “I wanted to ask you last time, but…” He clears his throat.
“Well, it’s a little embarrassing,” I admit.
“Warren, it can’t be more embarrassing than me crying on your chest. There’s no way a rabbit tattoo can be as sad as my story.”
He’s right. This is insignificant. Especially after what happened to his sister.
“My 4H project has always been a rabbit. But as you know, you’re not supposed to keep the animal.” My hand strokes my shoulder where my tattoo sits. “My, ah, first foster home was shitty…they sold my bunny without telling me and it was devastating to me. That rabbit was my only friend.”
“I’m sorry,” Dane whispers. “That’s fucking cruel.”
“It was. So I brought a picture to a tattoo artist and asked if he could do it. I was barely 16, but my dad, Hunter, gave me permission because the guy said I needed to be 18. So it’s my bunny that was the best bunny ever. I wanted to make sure she was never forgotten, you know?”
Nothing screams big, tough tie-down roping cowboy like a rabbit tattoo on your biceps. A cute one too. All floppy ears and a little nose, but I didn’t care then, and I don’t care now.
“What was her name?”
“My bunny?”
“Yeah.”
Sighing, I turn my head on my pillow and find Dane watching me. He’s not teasing me, and I wish we hadn’t spent all these years being dicks to each other.
“Don’t laugh. I called her Bun-bun.”
His lips press together as he fights a laugh, and I roll my eyes before turning my head away from him.
“No, I’m not laughing at you. It’s just…that’s so fucking cute, Warren.” A rustle of blankets followed by a body settling on top of me makes my head spin. “You have a big heart.”
Dane brushes a thumb across my cheek, wiping up a lone tear.
“So do you.”
He wants to argue. I see the storm in his eyes, unable to accept compliments or let people know who he is. It’s the same look I saw in the mirror years ago.
Instead of pushing back, he lowers his mouth to mine and kisses me.