Chapter 32
TILLY
I want to leave.
Rowe’s been finished riding for what feels like hours now, and I’m growing antsy.
The women beside me don’t share the same issue.
They’re hooting and hollering for the bull riders now getting a dramatic welcome, while I’m considering how much it would hurt if I jumped over the railing.
Millie’s screaming so loudly I can feel my ears ringing as the music rises and the crowd shows more interest than every event prior.
I want to roll my eyes. Truly, I’ve been so many of these things in my lifetime that maybe the appeal of bull riding has worn off. Everyone always hypes it up to the point of annoyance when personally, I think it’s lame. There are more interesting things to watch at a rodeo.
Yeah, I’m incredibly biased.
“Try not to look like someone’s got a noose around your neck, Tilly,” Ash says once the crowd’s quieted.
My brother’s leaning past Lacey’s body, because of course he chose to sit beside her. The oblivious turd is clearly crushing on Oak Point’s resident sweetheart. There’s not much room for me to talk, though, considering my past with his best friend.
“Stop yanking on it, then,” I tell him.
Millie laughs beside me, and I glance over, catching the possessive, tattooed hand clutching her bare thigh.
Her pink jean skirt is high on her legs, but I’m not one to judge there.
I could cough too hard and taste my shorts at this rate.
Yet somehow, Rowe still refrained from pulling over onto a dirt road and fucking me on the way here.
It wouldn’t have been a romantic first time, but I’d hope he’d know by now that I don’t need one. Twenty years ago, maybe. Now, the only thing I want is to have him any way I can.
Shade strokes Millie’s skin with a thick thumb and cocks a brow at me. “Do you want my pass? I’m pretty sure Rowe meant for you to have it anyway. I just stole it before he could hand it over. You could head down to see him.”
“Woah, was that a genuine offer?” I ask, blinking repeatedly.
“Oh, fuck off, Tilly. You make me seem like some big, bad wolf. I’m a sweetie pie. Ask Millie.”
I choke on a laugh, tightening my grip on the cup of beer Ash brought me a few minutes ago. “You mean the Goldilocks you stole from Grandma?”
“Hey!” Millie gasps in mock outrage. “There was no grandma.”
“Close enough.”
Ash shakes his head at us and takes a swig of his Coke. “You’re going to wind up thrown over the railing, Shade.”
“How much do you think it would hurt to land on the dirt if one did fall from here?” I ask, trying to grab an answer to my earlier metaphorical question.
Lacey tosses a piece of popcorn into her mouth. “It doesn’t look that high. Maybe a twisted ankle.”
“Don’t justify her thirst for my blood, Lace,” Shade pleads.
I tune him out and stare behind the chutes, trying to catch another look at where Rowe’s snuck off to. When he pulled himself over the gate after finishing his ride, I hoped he’d come right up here to us. Clearly, he hasn’t.
My pulse jumps when I see a dirty black hat and then the cowboy beneath it. He’s walking beside the guy I caught manning the horses and their riders behind the chutes earlier. There’s no anger on his face. If anything, he looks bored, and that’s a whole lot better.
Rowe comes further into view a second later, and I scoot forward on my seat, clasping my hands between my knees.
The dust and dirt on his clothes make him that much sexier, and fuck, I can see him fidgeting, adrenaline still working its way out of his system.
I swallow the excess moisture in my mouth and clench between my legs.
I’ve always wondered what he does to work through the high that he always spoke about feeling after finishing a ride.
When the ache hasn’t fully set into his joints, and all he can feel is a buzz in his blood that burns from head to toe.
Back when he first started competing like this, he’d sneak off somewhere for hours afterward.
My mind ran wild those days, but now . .
. now I don’t want to wonder. I want to know.
“I don’t see a ring from here. If you went down now, I bet they’d let you back.”
Every muscle in my body clenches when I hear those words. Snapping my head to the side, I stare at the two women sitting a row ahead of us, far enough to the right that I can’t automatically reach down and pull their hair out.
The one running her mouth has a blonde bob that’s been chopped higher in the back and a tan cowboy hat over it that’s a size too small.
Her friend is giggling beside her, all of her attention on the chutes and the men surrounding them.
There’s a flower tucked behind her ear and a pair of chunky seafoam-green earrings getting tangled in the thick, wavy length of her calico hair.
I don’t punish myself with examining what she’s wearing.
Maybe they’re not talking about Rowe.
“You think so? I’ve never been with a man like that before. He looks like he’d be able to toss me around. And those tattoos? I’d like to see the ones he’s hiding. Is he wearing number twelve?”
Or maybe they are.
Lacey sucks in a breath beside me, and then her hand is on my arm. Her grip tightens as if she’s trying to use it to keep me in place. She doesn’t have the strength to keep me seated if I decided to rip myself free.
“Go for it, then! Tell him he rode well. He did win, after all.”
Shade clears his throat. I don’t look at him, even when he scoots forward in his seat and tries to block my view of them.
“Okay, okay. I’ll go.” The one with the grannie earrings leans into her friend and says something I don’t catch before speaking louder. “Wish me luck.”
She stands and swipes her palms down the length of her knee-length skirt. Lacey’s fingers dig into my arm, pulling at me when I stand and lurch forward. My knee knocks against Millie’s before she twists, making room for me.
Shade’s curse falls onto deaf ears when I set my hand on the woman’s shoulder and shove her back down into her still-warm seat. A surprised squeak escapes her, drawing eyes from the few people closest to us. Her friend with the bob turns her head and stares at me, her eyes blown wide with worry.
“What are you doing?” she asks, voice high-pitched and tight.
Bending at the waist, I bring my mouth to the ear of the woman who was planning on going to see my man and purr, “He’s taken. Now, keep your ass in this seat, or fuck off out of here. If I hear you talking about number twelve again, I’ll rip these earrings out and feed them to one of those bulls.”
I pinch one of the earrings for good measure and give a light tug before straightening.
The need to get down and away from here is intense enough that I don’t bother with goodbyes to my friends.
There’s a twitch in my fingers that I hide by shoving them into my pockets before pushing my way past the rest of the people sitting in our aisle.
My skin is hot, both from the sunburn I know is starting to pinken my shoulders and the possessiveness ripping a pit in my stomach. I move quickly down the few stairs to the ground and immediately duck beneath them on my way to the gate ahead of me.
The burly man standing with his back against the fence from inside the chute area glances over his shoulder at me. His lips part over words I ignore as I reach over the gate and unhook the latch myself.
“Move.”
He blinks slowly, surprise thick in his stretched expression. “You allowed back here? Where’s your pass?”
“I’m allowed,” I snap.
“Show me your pass,” he repeats stubbornly.
I shove the gate open an inch before it hits the man’s stomach. He grunts at the impact but still stands in my way, glaring now.
“I’m here with Rowe Carrigan. Now, let me in before I jump the fence.”
“Ma’am, I’m sure you think you can just sneak back here to try and find a cowboy, but that isn’t how it works. I’m going to need you to show me a pass or turn around before I have to remove you.”
I jostle the gate harder, prepared to cut this guy in half with it, when a black hat appears over his shoulder. The tension leaks out of me instantly, and I let the gate go.
“She’s with me, Clark. Back off before I kick your ass for threatening her,” Rowe commands, his voice low and gravelled.
He gives a tug to the back of the man’s shirt and has him taking a few forced steps backward. The space isn’t empty for long before I’m pushing through the gate. Rowe moves Clark aside and then releases him, letting his hand drop to his thigh.
The look he gives me makes me feel like a naughty teenager caught sneaking in too late. I preen beneath it, that lingering heat stoking back to life in my chest.
“You’re going to drive me fucking crazy, Tilly. Steal a pass from someone next time so I don’t wind up in a brawl.”
I exhale heavily, like I actually might be considering his words when really, I’m not. Flattening my hands against his pecs, I stare into his deep grey gaze, letting it trap me. With an inhale, I drag my touch up and over his shoulders, squeezing softly.
“Make up your mind, Rowe. You either want all of me or you don’t. There’s no middle ground anymore. Not if I’m going to stay. I won’t do it again.”
The skin between his brows crinkles when he takes a large step toward me, our toes clacking. “You’ve gotta be more specific. Which parts do you think I don’t already want?”
“The same ones nobody does. Every twisted part that winds up always being a turnoff that I learn about years down the road.”
He rolls his jaw, breaking eye contact and searching the area around us. I’m forced to drop my hands from his shoulders when he takes one into a tight grip and leads me away from the gate. We move quickly, and he doesn’t show any sign of slowing, even once we’ve made it to the silent parking lot.
“Am I going in a time out or something?” I ask, slightly out of breath.
“If that motherfucker ex-husband of yours ever steps foot in our town, I’m going to kill him, Tilly.”
I almost trip. My toe catches in the dirt, but Rowe’s there, his hold keeping me upright.
The big black truck with the Painted Sky brand on the side comes into view a second before my back is slamming against the door.
There’s no pain, only surprise. A warm palm is cupping the back of my head, cushioning it.
“I mean it. The version of you I remember from before I went away didn’t give a shit when people judged her.
She wore her quirks on her sleeve for everyone to see.
If you feel differently now, he’s to blame,” he grates out, bringing his lips to my jaw, mouthing it softly.
“I wouldn’t change a fucking thing about you. ”
He releases my head and grabs my waist, pawing at it as he tilts me forward at the hips. Our bodies touch, moulding into one while I try to remember how to breathe. We’ve been this close before, but this time . . . it feels different. More.
The last thing I want to do is fight him, so I let myself go loose, propped against the truck. I roll my head back along the window and steady my breathing.
“Not even one thing? I could name a few that you could get tired of pretty quickly,” I say, frowning at the emotion obvious in the words.
Rowe’s fingertips dig harder into me, and I have to press my teeth together to keep from letting a plea for more slip out. His gaze lowers, sticking itself to where our bodies have glued together, and he’s holding me like he’s afraid I’m going to run screaming the moment he gentles.
“Stop playing with me. Is this an attempt to get compliments, or are you really that fucking blind right now, baby?” he grunts, blinking up at me.
The intensity in his eyes shocks me more than the gentle endearment does. It’s dark and so vibrant that I can almost taste the truth in it. His boundaries are down, and fuck, I want deeper. I want my claws in every inch of his mind until I’ve felt and heard and learned every thought he’s ever had.
“I’m not the begging-for-compliments type, Rowe.”
He shakes his head. A rough, calloused hand slips beneath my shirt and up my side. He doesn’t look away as he moves, his large palm swallowing my waist. A ghost of a kiss finds my cheek, then my temple.
I reach for him now, unable to continue holding back. He grunts when I fist his shirt, urging him closer, until our chests connect.
“Tell me what you’re thinking,” I murmur.
“I’m not good at this shit, Tilly.”
“You don’t need to be.”
He crushes his mouth against mine. I push up on my toes and press back just as hard. My moan disappears between his lips when he slides sturdy fingers around my thigh and guides it around him. I lurch my hips at the same time he grinds against me, flooding my body with tiny sparks.
“You’re possessive,” he declares tightly, hitching my thigh higher, opening me up for him.
“There’s no telling what will piss you off.
You’ll act first and think second. It’s impossible to tell if you’re being serious half the time.
Despite what anyone tells you, you’ll always follow your heart.
You’ll wind up alone and angry at the world, but find peace in knowing that you didn’t sell yourself out just to make anyone else happy.
I’ve never met anyone as fucking loyal as you. ”
My chest squeezes too tight. I grab his neck and haul him closer to me, fitting my mouth against his with an anger that’s starting to eat at my insides. It takes large chunks out of my soul, exposing me to the betrayal that I feel toward myself.
“I did sell out. I sold myself out, and I lost so much time because of it,” I whisper against his lips.
Instead of answering, he sweeps me clean off the ground and rips open the back door.
My eyes grow wide when my ass meets the soft interior of the seat and he gathers my face in his hands.
I’ve never felt him touch me this gently in all the years I’ve known him.
Even with the callouses and scrapes that haven’t finished healing, his skin is soft against mine.
I hold myself completely still, afraid to spook him and ruin the moment. It’s useless. His next words take away my ability to move all on their own.
“Make up for the lost time with me. Right here. In this fucking shit town that never grows with the people who can never seem to move on. You haven’t lost shit, hellcat. Not nearly as much as you think you have.”