Chapter 23
twenty-three
Sawyer
"He's hotter than a cast iron skillet full of Mama’s cornbread."
I turn my head just in time to catch the woman in front of me biting her lip, her eyes gleaming with pure lust. I follow her line of sight down to Trouble.
It's not just his handsome face the crowd is gushing over, it's how masculine he looks, how you can see every muscle through his shirt, the way he controls his movements. And that almost-smile, cocky and unbothered, makes it real clear he’s spent his life on the edge and just daring it to push back.
It’s not just the women swooning—every guy in the stands watches him like they’re impressed or trying to learn something. Like maybe if they watch close enough, they’ll figure out what it is that makes him look so damn fearless.
"Figures," her friend huffs beside her, nudging her shoulder. "I knew you only came for the cowboys."
"What other reason is there to come?" she hollers back, never once taking her eyes off Trouble.
Trouble clings to the back of the angry bull.
One hand gripping on tight, the other raised like now he’s enjoying the ride.
Each buck and twist has everyone clutching their pearls.
Time stretches, each second feeling more like an eternity.
He finally drops off the bull, landing with a tuck and roll that brings him to his feet.
My heart, which had been hammering in my throat, eases.
“That’s Trouble, folks! Clockin’ in with a jaw-droppin’ ninety-two points! That right there is how you ride a bull!” The announcer booms through the speakers, and the crowd erupts into cheers.
I step up, and spring myself onto the gate. The arena's still buzzing, but I can’t resist tossing a jab at him when I get the chance. "Crowd sounded real disappointed in you," I yell over at Trouble.
He swipes the dirt from his jeans, lips twitching like he's trying not to grin. "Take a look at the scoreboard, darlin'," he drawls. "That’s greatness right there."
One of his unofficial fan club members drapes herself over the gate beside me. It’s Little Miss Hair-Flip herself, the same one who’s been eyeing him like he’s on the dessert menu. “Trouble,” she calls out. "Heard you're having a little after party on your property tonight. Care if we come by?"
He doesn’t respond right away, and that ever-present toothpick that seems to magically appear out of thin air shifts from one corner of his mouth to the other.
I wait for his answer, but Charming swoops in, not giving him the chance.
"Sounds like a plan," Charming slides an arm around Trouble.
“He’ll be waiting. Y'all come on by, now. "
Their giggles ripple, high-pitched shrieks of excitement. They jump down and bounce on the balls of their feet before they scamper off.
"Hey, Sawyer, you coming too?" Charming shouts.
Trouble's eyes narrow ever so slightly.
"Yeah, I'm sure Honey will wanna do something," I call back.
"See you there, girl." Charming nods.
"Did you just volunteer me?" Honey pinches my ass, and I jump down off the gate. Her arms are crossed over her chest with a playful grin.
"Ouch! No," I lie. "Figured you want to do something after this. Got anything planned?"
"Unfortunately not. Milo is driving me nuts."
"Another fight?"
"Yep." Her lips press into a thin line. "I asked him why he never kisses as passionately as he did during the blind kiss. And would you believe it? He got all touchy about it."
"Touchy?" My eyebrows rise suspiciously.
"So, I'm taking a night off. A break from his moods and my own overthinking."
"Sounds like you need it," I nod, my attention drifting momentarily to the arena where Trouble is no longer in my peripheral vision.
"Anyway, enough about me." Honey leans against the gate. "Real question is, why all of a sudden do you want to be around the Stetsons?"
"I don’t," I respond too quickly. "I'm hoping to spend some time with my brother."
Honey arches an eyebrow. "Right… So how are you going to do that when he's not going to be there?"
"He's not?"
"Nope," she says. "I hear everything working at the bar, and I know he has a date with Hazel tonight."
"Who is Hazel?"
"Oh, she's a sweet girl." She brushes it off with the flick of her hand. "Now, don't try to change the subject. Which brother are you into?"
I look up, avoiding eye contact because I can’t believe I’m about to say this out loud. I’m about to throw this into the universe, and I will never be able to take it back. I let her continue for a moment.
"Charming's out," she declares, her gaze dissecting the circle of men in the arena. "He's too in love with himself. And Danger? Nah, he's still nursing that broken heart." Her hand flutters dismissively before locking onto the remaining two. "So, it's gotta be Rogue or—"
Her eyes go wide, mouth falling open. "Do not tell me it's Trouble."
"Fine, I won't," I shrug, because then I won’t have to put it out in the universe.
She pauses, eyes glinting with mischief.
"He's trouble alright, but lucky for you, the secrets about him are all good. Usually it’s the opposite. People say good things about someone to their face and whisper about all the bad. With him, he only lets a few see his good side. Trust me, bartenders know all.”
“I can’t argue with that,” I say, because it’s true. If there’s anyone in this town that knows all, it’s Honey.
“But the good friend in me has to warn you to be careful. Guys like him? They’re a great time, a memory you’ll smile about when you look back, but not the happily-ever-after kind.”
My stomach sinks a little, but then she grins. “That said, the bad friend in me is screaming inside, because if half of what the locals say about him is true? Girl, you are in for one hell of a rodeo.”
My brows shoot up. “What do they say?”
She leans closer like we’re swapping secrets.
“Sweet girl, it’s the muscles, the stamina, the—” she lowers her voice to a scandalized whisper “—talent. Peggy Rae swore up and down she didn’t believe in heaven till a bull rider took her there one night.
Said the way he held on, the way he moved—Lord have mercy, she saw all the clouds and even the pearly gates.
Now she wears that little gold cross ‘round her neck, just prayin’ for another ride to glory. ”
I laugh, heat creeping up my neck. “We don’t exactly have many bull riders in the city.”
“Which is why you’d better brace yourself,” she teases, looping her arm through mine as we start walking. Then she flashes me a wicked grin. “And you have to tell me everything…”
The road twists and rocks kick up behind Honey's car until we reach our destination. We roll by a section of trees and then it opens up—and suddenly, it feels like we’ve crossed into a hidden pocket of summer paradise.
Just another stretch of Stetson land, but it’s more than that.
The wide clearing is tucked away from the rest of the world, wrapped in a border of tall trees that keep it secret.
A fire pit glows near the center, and beyond it, the lake glimmers under the moonlight. The lake is still except for the splash of someone swinging from a rope tied to an old oak and launching into the water. Music hums from someone's speaker, and groups of people stand by their trucks and coolers.
Charming is crouched by the firepit now, trying to keep the flame high.
"Go get your man," Honey winks as she joins Charming. "Need more sticks?" she calls out.
I pause—just for a second—then spot his truck.
I can hardly see him in the dark. Once I get closer, I see that he’s alone, near the back tree line, leaning against the bed of his truck like he owns the night.
A bottle lifts to his lips, the moon catching the curve of his jaw.
No one else is parked near him. My guess?
He needed extra space to practice his broody cowboy thing.
"Keep comin’ to see me like this and I might start thinkin’ you’re sweet on me.”
I stop mid-stride, and snicker. “Listen cowboy, if I wanted something stubborn and loud, I’d purchase myself a goat.”
His grin widens, and the toothpick shifts from one corner of his mouth to the other. "You sure seemed to like me on my motorcycle the other day," he says, voice smooth.
"Maybe," I begin, climbing onto the tailgate. "But you seemed to like it just as much as I did."
The fire pit crackles in the distance, an echo of the fire I see smoldering in Trouble’s gaze. It's a dangerous thing to flirt with flames, but maybe he makes me feel reckless enough to play with fire.
"Sawyer..."
"Let me guess," I cut him off. "You’re about to give me the same lame speech about how I should stay away?"
"Wouldn't have to repeat myself if you'd listen."
That’s the problem. I have been listening to him—and unfortunately for me, this deep-voiced, hot as shit cowboy is exactly who I’ve developed a full-blown case of summer fling heart eyes for.
We’re talking summer-time-only, no-strings-attached, kiss-now-regret-later kind of fun. I’ll be back in the city soon where the only bulls I deal with wear suits and talk for the sole purpose of hearing their own voices.
“I’ve heard you loud and clear,” I admit. My last relationship flashes in my mind. I thought I was being careful with Harrison. Doing all the things I should. Look how that turned out. I swore I’d do things differently next time. Maybe slower. Maybe faster. Maybe just… safer.
But with Trouble, nothing feels safe. Which is exactly why I can’t seem to stop thinking about him.
He arches a brow. “And let me guess… you’re gonna do what you wanna do anyway?”
“We both know this can’t go anywhere. So maybe we stop pretending like we’re not thinking about the same thing.”
“And what’s that?” His grin is pure arrogance, like he knows the answer and just wants to hear me say it.