31. Ava
CHAPTER 31
Ava
WEAR THE HAT
Sawyer dancing at a honky-tonk is sexy.
Sawyer climbing into bed naked and hard is hot.
But Sawyer doing cowboy shit in chaps and a Stetson?
Lord, that just about does me in . My mouth goes dry as I watch Sawyer emerge from the barn, a chestnut-colored calf in his arms. He carries the animal like it weighs no more than a human baby.
I mean, the guy isn’t even out of breath.
He sees me and smiles, dimples and all. “Hey, pretty girl.”
Giving him a little wave, I lick my lips. “You doing this on purpose?”
“Doing what?” Sawyer grunts when he sets the calf down.
The baby cow meanders over to a sow nearby that’s munching on a patch of newly sprouted grass.
“Getting me all hot and bothered before our date even begins.”
He straightens and wipes his gloved hands on his chaps. His face is flushed from the cold, and his scruff is a few days overgrown. He’s covered in mud and muck from a full day of cowboying, and his blue eyes are bright but tired.
Throw in the thick arms and steady, confident way he walks, and I’m a goner.
“Well, yeah.” He gestures to his legs. “Why do you think I wore my fancy chaps today?”
I saunter toward him. “Nice fringe.”
“I know.” Smirking, he curls a gloved finger through my belt loop and pulls me in for a kiss. “You’re early.”
“I was hoping to catch you in action. I don’t get to watch you cowboy nearly enough.”
I had a hair appointment downtown this afternoon, so I told Sawyer I’d swing by Lucky River Ranch on my way home to pick him up for our date. Wyatt and Sally are watching Ella tonight, and Sawyer and I are having a little sleepover at my place. It’s Dan’s weekend again with Junie, and he actually picked her up early, grabbing her from preschool earlier today.
Since it was my turn to plan the date—Sawyer and I try to get out at least once a week, and we switch planning duties every other time—I decided I’d combine work and fun, and give my boyfriend a little lesson in barrel racing.
Really, I wanted an excuse to watch him ride a horse. Nothing sexier than a man who knows what he’s doing in the saddle.
He nips at my bottom lip. “What else you wanna see?”
“Everything. Mostly, I wanna see you ride.”
“I think”—he ducks his head to suck on my neck—“I could arrange that.”
A hog whistle splits the air, and Sawyer and I break apart to see Duke walking out of the barn with a shit-eating grin on his face.
“I have a knack for interrupting y’all, don’t I?”
“Get lost,” Sawyer grunts.
I grin. “Hey, Duke.”
“Don’t worry, I’m leaving. Gotta get these two in their pen ASAP.” He nods at the sow and her calf. “I actually got somewhere to be.”
Sawyer rolls his eyes. “Lemme guess. The Rattler?”
“Not this time, no.”
“Aw, you have a date of your own, don’t you?” I ask.
Duke blushes, which might be the most adorable thing ever. “It’s not a date. But it’s also not not a date?”
“Who ya meeting?” Sawyer asks.
Duke smirks. “Wouldn’t you love to know? I’ll let y’all get to it. Told Wyatt I’d grab Ella tomorrow to get doughnuts and coffee downtown, by the way. You two take your time in the morning. Well, unless you wanna rush, because sometimes that’s fun too.”
“You’re gross,” Sawyer says.
“He’s not wrong,” I say.
Duke just keeps smirking. “Y’all have fun.”
“Who do you think he’s meeting?” I ask when Sawyer and I are in the car on the way to the arena at the Wallace Ranch. I have to smile at how huge my boyfriend looks in my little Subaru, the top of his hat hitting the ceiling. “I don’t think I’ve ever heard him talk about anyone before.”
Sawyer, who insisted on driving my car, shrugs. “No clue. He and Ryder have always been wild cards when it comes to girls. Duke’s been mooning at Mollie’s friend Wheeler since they met…”
“Wheeler. Huh. I can actually see them together. They’re both firecrackers. Lots of personality.”
“She’s gotta have the same sense of wanderlust that Duke does if that’s ever gonna work. He likes cowboyin’ just fine, but I can tell he wants more.”
“She’ll love that about him.”
Sawyer lifts his fingers off the wheel. “Maybe. Whatever the case, I hope Wheeler knows what she’s getting into.”
I grin. “I think Duke’s the one who should be worried.”
“Why’s that?”
“She’s a lot of fun. I hope he can keep up.”
“Guess we’ll find out, won’t we?” Sawyer reaches across the console to put his hand on my thigh. “Bet I’ll be able to keep up with you tonight. I only been ridin’ since before I could walk.”
“But you haven’t been racing. There’s a difference.”
“You think I can’t win?”
I dig my hands into the hair that curls out from underneath his hat. “Honey, you did win. You got me.”
He laughs, a big, booming sound that fills the car and makes my core light up in the most delicious way. “Luckiest son of a bitch in these parts, no doubt.”
Sally is waiting for us in the arena. Because she’s awesome, she already has the horses tacked up and the barrels ready to go.
“I love that y’all are doing this for date night,” she says. “Wyatt and I really enjoy riding together. Sawyer, prepare to get your ass kicked. Ava is a tough coach.”
“Don’t I know it?” Sawyer’s eyes twinkle when they meet mine. “She’s always riding me hard.”
“You and Wyatt with the dirty jokes.” Sally shakes her head. “You need to get your filthy minds out of the gutter.”
“I don’t hate it,” I say.
Sally smiles. “To be honest, neither do I. You guys need anything else before I head home? Wyatt’s making dinner, so I should get out of here.”
“No shit,” Sawyer says. “Wyatt’s cooking again?”
Sally hands him the reins of a massive Friesian named Bumblebee. “Can you believe it? He’s one hundred percent domesticated now. Except when he’s not.”
“That sounds fun,” I say, grabbing my horse.
Sally’s cheeks are pink when she replies, “It is. Will we see y’all this weekend?”
I watch Sawyer smoothly mount his horse, his thighs straining against his chaps as he settles into the saddle.
“Yeah.” I lick my lips. “Sure. If I can tear myself away from?—”
“Work,” Sawyer says. “We have lots and lots of work to do, don’t we, pretty girl?”
Sally grabs her jacket from a nearby bench. “Cute nickname. Enjoy, guys. Have a great weekend.”
And then it’s just me and Sawyer and our horses inside my home away from home.
The arena is state of the art. It’s brand-new, built less than a year ago. Apparently Mr. Wallace told the architect that the budget was there was no budget.
The soaring ceilings are semi-transparent, letting in tons of light during the day, and the walls are covered in this beautiful stained wood that complements the Wallaces’ signature colors of brown and white. A huge American flag hangs on one side of the arena, the Texas state flag on the other.
“All right, coach.” Sawyer puts a hand on his thigh and nods at the barrels set out in the dirt. “Show me what to do.”
Putting on my own Stetson, I climb into the saddle. My body immediately relaxes at the familiar, steady feel of the horse underneath me. Her name is Carter, and she’s a gorgeous three-year-old filly I fell in love with at first sight.
It’s all muscle memory at this point. Heels down, I press into the stirrups. At the same time, I sit deep in the saddle and squeeze my legs, urging Carter into motion.
“I assume you know how barrel racing works, right?” I ask.
Sawyer trots right beside me. “Been to a rodeo or two in my time, yeah. You run the cloverleaf pattern around the barrels.” He uses his arm to trace the motion. “Fast as you can go without knocking down the barrels or getting knocked on your ass.”
“Exactly. You wanna keep your turns nice and tight. Be sure to stay sat—having a good seat is really going to be the thing that helps you most.”
He holds out his arm. “How do I look?”
Like a cowboy .
He’s all cockiness in the saddle, his hips rolling athletically in time to Bumblebee’s stride. The fringe on his chaps pops up as he moves, reins held in his left hand while he musses the horse’s mane with his right.
My skin tightens, need blooming to life between my legs. There are few things in this life as magnificent as watching a cowboy, well, cowboy .
“You look like you’re gonna lose,” I say, and then Carter and I take off.
I don’t wait for Sawyer to follow us. I don’t go slow, explaining why I do this or how I do that. I just ride, blood pumping, legs burning as I guide Carter in the familiar pattern around the barrels.
Laughter bubbles up inside me when I see Sawyer urge his horse into a gallop. How like him to not care a lick for his safety. He just goes full speed ahead, his face a mask of fierce focus as he charges after me.
Carter and I work together to turn a beautiful barrel if I do say so myself. I let out a happy yell, giving her more leg as we head for the second barrel.
Gravity and centrifugal force work against us, but she doesn’t stop and neither do I. My heart pumps loud and strong in my chest, and I keep my breathing even and deep. In through my nose, out through my mouth.
Giddiness rises up my sides and bubbles in my throat as we head for the third and final barrel. Out of the corner of my eye, I catch Sawyer laughing when he knocks over the second barrel behind us.
“This is harder than it looks!” he shouts, his handsome face split in a smile.
Resisting the urge to make a that’s-what-she-said comment, I fly around the third barrel and run home. Carter and I are panting, sweat breaking out on my scalp and forehead. My pulse drums in my ears. I’m aware of the air going in and out of my lungs, all the way to the bottom. Feels like I’m awake, alive, for the first time all day.
Feels like freedom.
Sawyer pulls Bumblebee to a stop next to us. His mouth hangs open in a neat O.
“Holy shit, Ava.” He wipes his forehead on his sleeve. “Holy fucking shit .”
“Holy shit, that was hard? Or holy shit, I’m good?”
“Both.” His chest barrels out as he struggles to catch his breath. “Baby, you are a smokeshow on horseback.”
I gather Carter’s reins in one hand and give her a pat with the other. “Thank you kindly. It’s nice to be able to race for fun now.”
“You ever think about goin’ back? Being on the circuit again?”
I shrug. “I miss training. Like, doing the training myself. I miss the thrill of getting a really good run in. But I don’t miss the travel and the financial roller coaster it was.”
“I get that.” Sawyer nods. “But hey, you ever wanna get out here and just do your thing—have some fun and get a little exercise—I’m happy to take the girls. Maybe, I don’t know, every Saturday or Sunday morning? You ride, and the girls and I will hang.”
I look at him, my chest filling with something I can only describe as joy. Or maybe it’s appreciation I feel. Appreciation for him truly seeing me. For him thinking of me.
Most of all, I think I appreciate that he’s offering me more of what I love— freedom . Dan always seemed to resent the time I spent training or racing. It’s part of the reason why I quit after Junie was born—he just wasn’t supportive of me being gone during the day to do something I loved.
But here’s Sawyer, supporting me. Encouraging me. He sees how happy I am in the arena, and so he wants me to be here more often.
He doesn’t want to tie me down. He wants to see me soar.
Cheesy line? Sure. But it’s true. And it proves just how different he is from Dan.
“You’re excellent,” I say, feeling a little choked up. “Really and truly an excellent human being, Sawyer. I just might take you up on that offer.”
He smiles, his eyes going all soft and hot. “I hope you do. I also hope you let us watch upon occasion. Ella would get a kick out of this.”
“Maybe we’ll have a pair of barrel racers one day,” I reply. “Ella and Junie, sisters from different misters, taking the circuit by storm.”
I see the way his breath catches at the word sisters . “They’d be badasses. Mostly because they were raised by a badass.”
I laugh. “What about you? Where do you fit into all of this?”
“Pretty girl, I’m just along for the ride.”
“All types of riding happening around here.”
His eyes glitter. “Gimme a lesson—show me how to race. Then I’m takin’ you home and giving you a lesson of my own.”
My body pulses. “What lesson would that be?”
“The kind you’ll like.” He sits up in the saddle. “Now show me how the hell you got so good at this.”