Hannah
I can still taste him on my tongue as I loop Queen around the practice arena.
Licking my lips, I can still feel the soft skin of his cock as he rested it on my lips before I opened up to him.
I should thank Mallory for interrupting us earlier.
I can’t believe I was about to break all my rules for some guy I’ve only known for a few months.
The steady beat of Queen’s hooves in the dirt calms my mind, and I let myself reflect on how easy it is with Dean.
How natural and at home I feel when I’m around him.
All my defenses come down when we’re together.
Anyone's first impression of Dean makes him seem like a conceited asshole—that was my first impression of him, as well.
But his smile, when he gifts you with one, is something that is not freely given, and to be on the receiving end of it is thrilling.
When his eyes light up anytime he looks at me, I fall into them, unable to remember why I try so hard to pull away.
“Thank you.” I nod to her then lead Queen into position.
From here, I can see the chutes where Dean will ride off to one side.
It’s not hard to spot a figure in all black, arms crossed, ignoring everything around him, staring directly at me.
His focus pushes me further into my own as I tug my hat down over my braid and crouch down in the saddle ready to ride.
One last look at Dean has me pulling my hat off quickly and ripping out my hair tie, combing my fingers through my thick hair to release it.
I give a quick look up at him, not sure if he can even see what I’m doing, but soon enough he will.
Replacing my hat, I get back into position and the second our names are called, I’m flying down the lane.
I don’t think I’ve ever grinned bigger. My cheeks hurt, dust coats my teeth. Freedom . Peace . Home .
The ride only lasts a few seconds, but my heart races for the next hour.
“You staying to watch the rest of the events?” Matty walks up next to me, leaning against the gate as the bareback riders get ready.
I turn to him, taking him in for the first time in weeks.
For someone pushing eighty, he rides like he’s twenty-five.
“What’s that smile for?” My fingers fly to my face, I hadn’t realized I’d been smiling.
“I guess I’m just happy.” I shrug, turning back to the arena. His elbow nudges mine.
“Couldn’t have anything to do with placing first tonight?” Resting my cheek on my arm, I look back at him.
“Maybe.” I shrug again. The rumble of laughter from him makes me smile harder.
“Or maybe, somethin’ to do with a certain cowboy.” He tips his chin at the chutes. I look over just in time to see a man in black slip down onto the back of a restless paint.
“Maybe,” I repeat with a sigh. Matty reaches out and pulls me into his side.
Kissing the top of my head much like a father would do, he mumbles, “It’s good to see you lookin’ so happy.
Your folks are so proud of you.” I want to tell him how sorry I am for treating him so poorly while I’ve been in my fog of grief.
But before I can get the words out, he gives me a squeeze, tells me he’ll see me in Utah in a couple weeks, then turns and leaves just as the buzzer sounds and Dean flies out like a bolt of lightning.
My lungs scream from lack of oxygen as I hold my breath, watching him fling back and forth all around the arena.
My eyes sting as I watch, unblinking, him and the timer on the screen.
“Come on,” I whisper. Six seconds.
“Come on, baby!” My voice rises. Seven seconds.
The horse jackknives and throws its body from one direction to the next, throwing Dean off balance. Without thinking, I jump on the top of the gate and yell.
“Hold on, cowboy!” Eight seconds. The buzzer vibrates around me, feet pounding against metal seats.
Dean loops his arms around one of the men that ride up alongside him, jumping down like he just took a lazy Sunday trail ride.
I watch in fascination as he bends down to grab his strap.
And unlike any reaction I’ve seen from him before, he stands up, takes his hat off, and waves to the crowd.
A smile on his face—not the one he saves for me, but one that shows he may not be the asshole everyone thinks he is.
My eyes fill with tears and on the big screen above the crowd I watch the camera zoom in on him, pink heart coated in dust on those midnight black chaps.
The barbed wire around my heart loosens a bit and warmth fills my chest.
We play it cool as we stand across from each other, accepting our checks for first place.
I have to look away from Dean to keep myself from leaping across the space between us and into his arms. Every time I dare peek at him, I don’t miss the heat that fills those stormy eyes.
My blood warms in anticipation, and it takes a great deal of focus to listen to the announcer and answer his questions without stumbling over my words.
Dean motions for me to walk in front of him as we exit the arena and head to the parking lot.
I feel him get closer the further we move away from the lights.
Pretty soon, his lips are against my neck.
“I like when you walk in front of me, darlin’.” His voice is low, sultry, and makes the hair on the back of my neck stand up.
“Dean!” a man's voice calls from across the lot. Rocks fly up with how quickly Dean stops. Another shout, and Dean quickly pushes me forward.
“Who is that?” I ask, trying to look over my shoulder at the man approaching us. But Dean’s broad frame blocks him from view.
“No one,” he says over his shoulder. “I’ll meet you at the trailers. Go.” He gives my back one more gentle shove before turning and stalking towards the man.
I hesitate for a moment, watching as Dean grips the man's shoulders, spinning him and winding through the parked cars and out of sight. Slowly, I make my way back to my trailer. Queen was loaded a while ago, so I step into my room and begin undressing. It feels like hours before a soft knock sounds at my door. If it was Dean, he’d have just walked in regardless of my state of dress.
I peek out through the curtains off to the side.
He waits outside, head hung low, shoulders slumped over.
A version of my cowboy that I’ve never seen before.
Worried he’s been hurt, I shove the door open so hard he has to lean back to avoid getting hit.
“Dean?” Those stormy eyes fly to mine. Usually they swim with mischief and a hint of animosity for the world around him.
But tonight they are filled with regret and pain.
Gone is the heat from earlier. “What’s wrong?
” Jumping down the few steps, I run my hands along his face and neck, down over his arms, looking him over.
His rough hands grab mine and hold them against his chest. I can feel his heart pounding wildly as his chest falls heavily with each exhale.
His forehead drops to mine. “Will you go somewhere with me?” It’s all he says before pulling my hands to his lips and kissing them softly.
Wild and reckless Dean, that’s a side I can handle.
It’s a side of him that gets me excited.
But a vulnerable and borderline sad Dean is something entirely unseen.
A side that if we were together, actually together and not playing by my stupid rules, I’d learn how to comfort.
But knowing the kind of situationship we have, I’m not sure what my reaction should be to seeing him in such an unguarded state.
Nodding up at him, I whisper softly, “Of course.”
“Grab a jacket.” He eyes my sweats and baggy shirt before nodding again and turning to his truck. He makes quick work of dropping his trailer then opening the passenger door for me, helping me in before climbing in the driver's seat.
We pull out of the arena, the crowds of people leaving the stadium weave around us.
After a few turns through the cute downtown, Dean turns the truck onto a dirt road.
The only sound inside the truck is the tires rolling from the smooth asphalt onto the rocky road.
We drive in silence, his hand resting on my upper thigh, mine running over his inked forearm.
Every now and then I peek over at him, but his eyes stay on the road in front of us.
I let the silence stretch between us, knowing he’ll open up when he wants to.
That’s the thing I love most about us. We know when to let things just…be. It doesn’t feel like withholding information to hurt the other, but trust that when we need one another, we’ll be there.
The lights from the city fade out and the truck winds through pines so tall, the tops disappear into the dark sky.
Pressing closer to the glass, I can see the stars above us, popping up in handfuls the further out we get.
A few more minutes pass before Dean pulls the truck off to the side.
Shutting the truck off, he hops out without a word, pulling open the back door and pulling out armfuls of blankets and pillows.
I wait as he jumps up in the bed of the truck, rustling around for a minute or two before bounding down and opening my door.
He turns me in my seat, my legs framing his hips.
The breeze rustles gently through the trees, blowing a few tendrils of my hair loose.
Nothing but space stretches around us, and it feels so comfortably intimate to be here alone with Dean.
We don’t have anywhere to be, don’t need to worry about someone catching us together.
Leaning into his touch, his fingers grazing my cheek, I can’t help but wonder what happened and who that man was.