Chapter 35
Chapter thirty-five
Tell Me Like It Is
Cheyenne
“Iwas thinkin’ I could convert the guest room into a nursery, if you wanted. I can keep the bed in there for you though, that way you’ve got somewhere to sleep.”
His words were innocent enough, but they hit me like a freight train straight to the gut. He was going to leave the bed in there so I had somewhere to sleep? What the fuck did that even mean? Was he kicking me out of his room? Did he not want to be with me?
He’d been weird since we’d left the doctor’s appointment.
I get that we hadn’t really defined the relationship, but I’d taken him into the exam room with me, for fuck’s sake.
We’d seen the ultrasound together, listened to the heartbeat…
from our conversation earlier, I’d just assumed that meant he wanted to be with me.
Was I completely wrong?
Anger bristled to life in my chest, my thoughts like kindling to a fire, making me hotter and hotter with each passing second.
I stilled as I slid on my boots, my angry, hurt gaze flicking to him. “Do you not wanna be with me?” I hadn’t meant for the words to sound so accusatory, but honestly, at the moment, I didn’t really care. I was confused and scared and frustrated.
My emotions were shot to shit, and I had no more patience left in me. None. Not after the rollercoaster of a day I’d had.
He frowned, rocking back at my words. “What’re you talkin’ about?”
“You just basically said you don’t want me in your room anymore.”
“I never said that,” he replied, shaking his head.
“Yeah, you did.” I crossed my arms over my chest. “You said you’d leave the bed in there so I had somewhere to sleep…
” I thought of the car ride. How he’d corrected himself when he’d said we then floundered.
How he’d basically shut down when I’d asked about telling his family about the baby.
“Not to mention, you seemed less than thrilled when I asked you about being involved in the announcement. You acted like you couldn’t care less, especially considering you essentially told me you’d marry me earlier today.
So, once again…do you not wanna be with me? ”
A part of me knew I was being snarky and a bit petty—okay, maybe a lot petty. But I was scared. Scared that I’d just gotten myself into a situation with a guy who didn’t actually want to be with me.
You know that’s not true.
Maybe he wasn’t in love with me, but Maverick wasn’t the type of person to string me along. Not when he knew first-hand what that was like.
He blew out a breath, pulling his cowboy hat off to run a hand over his short hair before righting it atop his head once more. Guilt shone in his gaze as he said quietly, “Of course, I wanna be with you. I just…sometimes I ain’t no good at findin’ the right words.”
I huffed. “Well, no fuckin’ shit. You proved that last week.” The words were out before I could even think.
He stilled, sadness and hurt blooming in his gaze, flickering to life along the harsh, handsome lines of his face. Shame welled up inside me, so intense and brutal that I thought I might throw up. How could I say something so horrible? So unkind? God, I was terrible. Absolutely terrible.
I cupped a hand over my mouth, a broken gasp tearing from my throat. “I…I’m so sorry. That was horrible of me.”
I expected anger. I deserved anger. His wrath.
His fury. I deserved for him to kick me out.
To call things off completely. But instead, he took a step forward and pressed a hand to my cheek, his pained gaze settling on me.
What was worse… There in the depths of those light jade eyes was also understanding.
“It’s okay. You ain’t gotta apologize, Chey. You’ve been through—”
No. No, there was no way he could possibly be making excuses for me.
Sadness, guilt, and anger clawed for dominance in my chest. Sadness that he just took those hurtful words, guilt that I’d even said them in the first place, and unjustified anger because here I was completely out of control emotionally, yet, as always, he held himself together with such ease.
“Goddamn it, Maverick! It’s not okay. You shouldn’t be justifyin’ my actions. That was inconsiderate and horrible of me. I’m upset and I lashed out, but that ain’t okay.”
He shrugged. And that broke my heart. The fact he could so easily brush it off. Like he was used to people lashing out and taking their insults.
“So, tell me why you’re upset,” he said softly, not a hint of anger or judgment lurking in his gaze.
I took a breath, trying to push back the anger that still burned unproportionally bright in me.
It’s like my heart hadn’t gotten the same memo my brain had.
So, while I understood I was being irrational and bitchy, I couldn’t quell the fire inside me that looked to destroy anything and anyone in its blazing path.
“I feel like I’m drowning and my fuckin' life preserver is broken. I feel like it’s just one wave of bullshit poundin' into me after another, and every time I come up to breathe, somethin' else happens. I’m scared and I feel out of control…” My words fell out of my mouth like vomit, my breaths rasping in and out of my chest faster and faster as my voice became more rushed and high-pitched.
Maverick cupped my face, his gaze unreadable as emotion after emotion flickered in the depths, as well as passed over his face.
His mouth tugged into a contemplative scowl, not necessarily aimed at me—at least, I hoped—but the situation likely.
His eyes narrowed ever-so-slightly, and a moment later he said, “Come with me.”
I frowned. “Where?”
“Just come with me.” His voice held both a pleading and final note to it. He wasn’t going to tell me where we were going, but he also wasn’t going to force me there. This was a choice. My choice.
And while it annoyed the hell out of me that he was being so cryptic, I tossed my hands up into the air and shrugged. “Alright, let’s go.”
He led me out to the truck, whistled for Brandy, and the three of us started off down the road. He’d mentioned riding horses, but I was in no mood for that. Annoyance rippled through me as I said, “I don’t think me ridin’ is the best idea right now, Maverick.”
He stiffened in the seat beside me, but his words were soft, his gaze knowing as he met my harsh stare. “I ain’t gonna have you ride.”
“Then what are you gonna have me do?” I asked, crossing my arms over my chest. Worry and frustration and that damn anger that wouldn’t go away simmered in my soul.
This was why I liked being alone. Why I liked to go off when I was annoyed or mad.
I knew I had a temper, and sometimes, most times, it was best to just leave me until I’d burnt up all the frustration on my own.
Right now, every cryptic response, every unspoken emotion that went across Maverick’s face, set me more and more on edge.
Maverick placed a hand on mine and gave it a reassuring squeeze. “Have a little patience, Chey. Please.”
I rolled my eyes and huffed. “In case it ain’t obvious, I don’t got a lotta that.”
His lips pulled up into the barest ghost of a smirk, the look in his eyes warming, as if he wanted to say, I can see that.
But he didn’t. Which was almost more infuriating than him saying it.
We pulled up to the barn and he cut the engine, nodding for me to get out and follow him. By the time I reached his side, he had a rope in hand and pointed at the dummy cow already set up about ten feet away. “You ever roped?” he asked, glancing at me.
I scoffed. “Yeah.”
He nodded once more, holding out the rope. “Alright then, rope the dummy.”
I didn’t take it, my hands finding their way to my hips defiantly. Annoyance bristled within me. “Why?”
If he was bothered by my attitude, he didn’t let on. Even I knew I was being unreasonable and bitchy, but it’s like I couldn’t stop it. I couldn’t pull back or control my anger anymore. It just had to fizzle out.
“Just rope the dummy, Chey,” he said, his deep voice remaining calm, even.
I blew out a breath through my nose and rolled my eyes. “Fine.” I took the rope, built a loop, and tossed it at the dummy. The rope clacked against the plastic before sliding around the horns.
Casting an expectant glance his way, I raised a brow, my hands going to my hips once more. “Okay. Done. What was the point of that?”
A muscle feathered in the corner of his lip, almost like he was fighting the urge to smile. “Do it again.”
“What? Why?” I scoffed.
He leveled me with a heavy gaze that made me feel like he was looking through to my very soul. “Will you trust me?”
And there was so much sincerity, so much earnest vulnerability in that pleading tone, that I found myself nodding and releasing the rope from the horns and building a loop again.
Another toss. Another, “Again.”
On my third throw, I asked, “So what’s the lesson, oh, wise one?”
He settled himself against the barn, propping one foot against the wall, while crossing his hands over his chest. “There ain’t no lesson.” He nodded at me. “Again.”
But there was a lesson there. Because at some point, my muscles began to loosen and relax.
My anger dissipated like smoke on a strong breeze.
The rhythmic clack of the rope hitting the dummy became a calming melody that soothed my soul.
Even as my fingers started to blister from the rope, I kept throwing. Again and again and again.
It was like every toss got rid of some of the tension.
I thought of last week when Cash had thrown till his hand bled. I’d thought him crazy then, but something about the repetitive motion, the sound…it soothed me.
Maverick didn’t do much more than offer a few pointers here and there. “Make a bigger loop,” and “You didn’t follow through with your hand”. He didn’t try to talk to me beyond that. It’s like he knew what I’d needed before I even did.
“Alright. That’s enough.” Maverick’s deep voice cut through the quiet of my mind.
I rolled up the rope as he walked to my side. He grabbed it from me and set it down on the dummy before reaching for my hand to examine it. “How’re you feelin’?” he asked, though he kept his gaze on my blistered fingers.
I took a deep breath and exhaled slowly, my chest feeling lighter than it had all day. “How’d you know I needed this?”
He shrugged, finally meeting my gaze.
“So, we’re back to the shruggin’?” I asked, thinking of that first night a little over a week ago. Dear Lord, it’d only been a week, but so much had happened.
Maverick dropped my hands, and my heart squeezed, my body aching for his touch. I hadn’t lied, it was like a drug. And I was addicted.
To my complete and utter surprise, he gripped my chin and tilted it up to fully meet his gaze.
“Now, let me try this again. I want you. All of you. Whatever you’re willin’ to give.
I meant every word I said this mornin’—all of it.
But I didn’t want to just assume you wanted that too.
You’ve got so much on your plate and I was just tryin’ to give you space and be respectful. ”
Tears burned in my eyes, but I didn’t try to wipe them away. As much as I hated people seeing my tears, hated how they made me feel weak, I wanted him to see them. I wanted him to know how much this moment meant to me.
“I want you too,” I breathed. “I want to be with you. As far as I’m concerned, Nate isn’t the father. You’ve been far more of a father to this baby already than he’s been.”
A soft smile blossomed on his lips, like the first rays of a sunrise. There was so much love and hope and happiness shining in his gaze it made my heart hurt.
“Why?” I asked softly. “Why are you willin’ to do all this for me?”
His hand slid down to cup the side of my neck while he wrapped an arm around me and pulled me against his strong, hard body. “Because…I…well, I love you.”
The breath left me, my knees going weak. Thank God he held me because I didn’t have the strength in me to stand upright. He loved me? How? Why?
“How could you possibly love me? You don’t even know me.”
He ran his thumb over my bottom lip, his voice low and husky as he spoke.
His eyes held a warmth and depth to them I’d never seen before.
“I know plenty about you, Chey… I know you like chocolate chips on your pancakes, and licking cake batter out of the bowl. Your favorite song is “Me Against the Mountain” by Ian Munsick, and you love the color blue. But not light blue or navy, royal blue. You just might be able to outdrink Cash—” His lips pulled up a bit more.
“And don’t tell him this, but you rope better than him too.
Also, contrary to what he might think, you’re prettier. ”
I couldn’t help the smile tugging on my lips even as tears slipped down my cheeks.
He wiped them away with his thumb as he continued on.
“I know you like to sleep on your left side every night, and you scrunch your nose up when you’re being flirty.
You like bein’ around people, but you also have your limits.
You’re the friendliest person I’ve ever met, but you are also stubborn as hell when you wanna be.
Charlie and Ryder adore you, you and Cash may as well be twins, Bad likes you, and Aunt Violet approves… ”
My heart could burst in that moment. He’d figured out all of this in just one week. All this time I’d thought his silence meant he’d been withdrawn into himself, and yet he’d been silently observing and learning about me.
“Time means nothin’ to me, Cheyenne. Life’s too short to wait for the perfect moment. Now, I ain’t expectin’ you to love me too. But I think you could, given time.”
I shook my head, soft laughter falling from my lips as I smiled up at him. “You really are perfect, cowboy.”
“Nah.” He shook his head. “But I promise to be good to you.” He moved back a half step, glancing down at my stomach, one of his hands hovering just above it. He looked to me, his gaze holding a silent question.
My head dipped in the smallest nod, my breath hitching in my chest, heart pounding so loudly, so wildly I didn’t know how he didn’t hear it. And as he placed his warm hand against my stomach, something in me just…shifted.
It’s like the world had been off its axis, and in that moment, everything had been righted.
His deep voice reverberated through my bones, my veins, my very soul. “I promise to take care of you. To love you and this baby with all that I have…if that’s what you want.”
A pathetic sob escaped me as I placed a hand over his on my stomach, and as he pulled me in and kissed the breath from my lungs, that feeling of hope returned.
It blossomed in my stomach, in my heart, like wildflowers in the spring.