Chapter 25
Chapter twenty-five
Fix You Too
Cheyenne
Iwatched Maverick as he checked his tack for what had to be the fiftieth time. He was nothing if not thorough. He wore all black—unsurprising—despite the hot July sun beating down and making everything miserable.
Him, Cash, and Ryder worked in perfect tandem. A seasoned trio who’d done this for years. Getting ready together, working around and with each other, checking each other's tack.
As if sensing me, Maverick’s gaze flicked to mine, those light green eyes sparking something in me that equally exhilarated and terrified me. I brushed off the feeling, though, as he paused what he was doing and made his way towards me.
“How’re ya doin’, cowboy?” I asked as he came to a stop at my side. “You okay?”
He nodded before tilting his chin at me, a silent question in his eyes. Communicating was easy enough without talking now. It wasn’t fool proof, but it worked…for now.
“I’m doin’ good. Excited to ride," I answered.
An appreciative smile formed on his lips as he looked me up and down, gesturing at my outfit.
I flashed him a smug smirk. I’d really leaned into the whole Fourth of July thing, showing up in all my star-spangled glory.
A white and blue sequin show shirt, my red bootcut jeans, red, white and blue chaps with enough sparkles and crystals to blind someone.
Thank God they’d been in my car during the fire, I’d paid a pretty penny for these.
Turning this way and that, I put myself on full display, reveling in the way his gaze drank me in like a cool drink of water on a hot summer’s day. “You like it? Is it too much?”
Maverick shrugged even as a smile pulled wide on his lips. He waved his hand back and forth.
I laughed. “Good. That’s exactly what I was goin’ for.”
His shoulders shook in that silent laugh of his before he pulled me against him, pressing a soft, yet no less intense kiss to my lips.
I’d quickly realized that his touches, his kisses, everything about him, actually, could be summed up to that.
Soft, but no less intense. It went along with that quiet surety of his that made my resolve melt when it came to him.
I leaned into him, matching his intensity touch for touch, until we both pulled away breathing heavily.
“Well, good luck to you too,” I murmured, resting my forehead against his.
His lips drew up into an answering grin as he pulled back, gripping my chin. His hooded gaze sent a shiver down my spine.
I loved and hated how much of a hold he had on me.
I’d never experienced something like this before.
This desire. This need. It felt reckless and exhilarating and…
real. And that scared the hell out of me.
I’d never needed anyone in my life. I could take care of myself.
But something about Maverick called to my soul.
The shiver of desire turned to one of fear, my stupid thoughts ruining the moment as quickly as it started.
I tried to play it off, dropping my gaze and tucking a stray curl behind my ear.
Hopefully he thought I was just being shy or something.
If he noticed a change in me, he didn’t let on. For which I was grateful.
“Rodeo now, fuck later, you two! Come on! They’re about to release everyone’s picks!” Cash hollered, raring to go at the back of the trailer.
I rolled my eyes, even as a grin pulled on my cheeks. Maverick looked at me as if to say, after you.
“I’ll catch up.” I pointed to the Mooneys’ RV. “Gotta grab my hat.”
Despite the fact we weren’t far from home and wouldn’t be staying on the rodeo grounds for the two-day event, Mrs. Mooney did nothing half-assed. She’d forced Bad to get the RV ready so we all had a place to stay out of the heat and get ready for our events.
Maverick gave me a questioning look, his brow arching up. Are you okay?
I nodded, pushing up on tiptoe to give him a quick, reassuring kiss. “I’m fine, cowboy. I’ll be there soon.”
He looked like he wanted to argue, but he didn’t press. Not that he would. Not with him still not talking. For once, I was grateful for that.
I needed a moment. To focus. Center myself. It’s not like I needed to be there for the picks anyway for my event.
With a final look, he hurried off toward the rest of the group.
Sighing, I made a beeline for the RV. I spied my hat box the minute I opened the door—right on the armchair Mrs. Mooney claimed as mine to put my things.
Taking a few deep breaths, I focused on settling my heartbeat as I opened up the box.
Mrs. Mooney’s voice in the trailer damn near scared the piss out of me. “That was some good luck kiss.”
Holy hell, she was quiet. I hadn’t even realized she was in here. I’d figured she’d gone with the rest of the group. My heart thumped a wild dance against my ribcage as I whirled to face her. “Jesus Christ!” I clapped a hand over my mouth. “Oops, sorry. You scared me!”
A hint of a smirk drew on her lips, mischief and mirth swirling in her gaze. She glanced between me and the door, almost like she was watching Maverick walk away, something in her entire demeanor shifting, softening.
“How’s he doin’?” she asked, before turning to take me in once more.
I shrugged. “He’s doin’ better, I think. I just wish he’d talk, though, you know?” I bit my lip a moment before blowing out a loud exhale. “There’s just some conversations and questions I have that require a little more than a nod or a headshake.”
Like what was going on between us? What did he want? What did I want?
Mrs. Mooney offered me a sympathetic look as she moved to the ironing board she’d set up in the center of the RV aisle.
She placed the American flag show shirt—Cash’s I assumed—on the board and began ironing.
“Time and patience, honey,” she offered.
“I know it’s hard, but push him more than that and he’ll just dig his heels in.
Boy may not seem like it, but he’s stubborn. More stubborn than Cash, even.”
“More stubborn than Cash?” I balked at that. Sure, Maverick could be unwavering and relentless, but Cash was the epitome of stubborn.
Mrs. Mooney glanced up at me for a second before returning to her work.
“Oh yeah. You see, Cash is difficult about ninety-nine percent of the time, which makes it pretty predictable that he’s gonna be stubborn.
I always have a backup to my backup plans when it comes to dealin’ with him.
” She smiled softly, setting down the iron so she could adjust the shirt before starting the process again.
“Now, Maverick is the exact opposite. Most of the time you don’t have to worry about him pitchin’ a fit or puttin’ up a fight, but that one percent of the time always comes durin’ the least expected moment and over the least expected thing. It catches you off guard.”
I let out a little huff. “That actually makes a lot of sense.”
Mrs. Mooney grinned. “You learn a few things raisin’ up three very different kids. None of them are the same, and the way you deal with one, you may not be able to do with the other.”
“I can’t even imagine.” I could hardly take care of myself, I couldn’t even begin to comprehend what all it took to raise a kid. “I don’t think I’ve ever met—”
Mrs. Mooney cut me off. “You haven’t met True. He doesn’t come around much.” I wouldn’t quite call the words cold, but there was certainly an unwelcome edge to her tone. I didn’t know what to say, so I just nodded.
She glanced at me, her gaze drifting up and down my body, taking me in. She had this intensity about her that made me fidget. She’d been nice enough to me, and I think she liked me, but I wasn’t ever quite sure.
“Enough talk about them boys, how’re you doin’, honey?
” Her words held a layer of concern I wasn’t expecting.
It tugged on my heartstrings. This week had been such a whirlwind of activity and drama, what with the fire and Maverick’s silence, me moving in, and now the rodeo.
It didn’t leave much time to worry about myself.
“Me? I’m fine, Mrs. Mooney.”
Her brow rose, the frown on her face saying exactly what she thought of that. “Girl, if you’re gonna lie, at least be convincin’.”
I don’t know why, but tears pricked in my eyes then. It’s like she saw right through the bullshit and down to the sadness and confusion I tried to bury deep down. I took a breath, fighting back the tears swimming in my eyes. Please, don’t let me cry.
“I’m a little stressed,” I admitted on a sigh. “The insurance company called this mornin’. They’re only gonna give me thirty-five hundred dollars for the trailer and the product I lost for my business.”
“That ain’t much,” Mrs. Mooney said as she placed the ironed shirt on a hanger and hung it up on one of the cupboard knobs. She moved to a hat box sitting on the kitchen dinette next and grabbed out a cream felt cowboy hat and a brush.
I shook my head. “No, it ain’t, but I ain’t surprised. That trailer was almost as old as me. It ain’t worth anythin’ really.”
It had been full of memories, though.
Daddy bought it after the last time Mama left.
We’d lived in that thing, traveling all across the country, from the time I was four-years-old.
Then when I turned eighteen, Daddy gave it to me.
That trailer had more memories than money could ever buy off, but try telling that to an insurance company.
I loosed another sigh and fidgeted with my own hat, picking a piece of hair off it.
“I can make it work, though. A thousand bucks and I can at least start up my online shop again, and the rest I can use as a down on a new trailer. If I get a job and can make some money winning in the next few rodeos, I can afford monthly payments on it.”
She paused in her brushing, her gaze flicking to mine. Something swirled and sparked to life in them. Not anger, not worry. I couldn’t quite explain it. Trepidation maybe?
“Things not workin’ out at Maverick’s?” Her tone held a steely edge to it.