Chapter eight
One I Want
Quinn
Whit kept me inthe bathroom for entirely way too long as she talked about Travis and the other ranch hands. The whole time, all I wanted was to get back to Hux. Being around him, talking to him…I liked it. I liked it far too much for just meeting him earlier that day. There was no denying it, though. Something pulled me to him. Drew me in. Call it fate or chance, but there was a spark in my soul that I hadn’t known was there until meeting him.
A terrifying, and yet oddly exhilarating notion, if I were being perfectly honest.
Between the little bit of alcohol I’d consumed and the excitement that thrummed in my veins, I practically bounced all the way back to the bar after leaving Whit.
Only Hux wasn’t there.
Both our stools were empty, and the bartender had already grabbed up the drinks and was wiping down the countertop as if we were never even there. I glanced toward the pool tables, wondering if maybe he’d gone there.
“He ain’t here, sweetheart.”
I whirled at the bartender’s smokey voice. “Do you know where he went?” I asked, making my way to the bar.
She nodded her head at the doors leading outside. “He closed out the tab and left a few minutes ago.”
Worry and confusion ate at me, writhing in my stomach like snakes. “I don’t understand,” I breathed out, more to myself than anyone else.
I mean, I saw how upset he’d gotten when I’d asked about his accident. His hands trembled with anger as he’d downed my margarita like it was nothing but a glass of orange juice. But I thought we’d gotten past that. He seemed calm enough when I went to the bathroom with Whit.
“He’s been known to be like that,” the bartender replied.
My gaze snapped to hers, a frown drawing on my lips. “What do you mean?”
“Huxson Lane always had a bit of a temper.”
“How do you know him?”
I’d noticed earlier when she’d recognized him. The awe in her voice, the look of excitement on her face had given me major celebrity vibes, but I didn’t know of a Huxson Lane. Maybe he was like a local singer or something?
“Darlin’...just about every damn cowboy in Texas knows who he is. He was a two time World Champion bull rider before his accident.”
I didn’t know anything about rodeos, buttwo time World Championsounded pretty important.
“You should look him up. He was incredible. It’s a shame what happened.” She offered me a wistful shrug.
My heart ached for him. He must have lost so much. But none of that answeredwhyhe’d left. I had to find him. First off, something told me he would be the sort of prideful to try and walk himself all the way home. And second, I couldn’t just let him leave. I’d felt something with him. A spark. A connection. He may be stubborn and drunk and willing to throw it all away, but I wasn’t, goddamn it.
So, after thanking the bartender, I hurried out of the bar, hoping,prayingto God I found him. The moon had risen high into the night sky, but the town still teemed with life. I glanced right then left as I stood in the middle of the sidewalk before The Haystack. Oh God, he could have gone either way.Uphill. Downhill. Left. Right.
Biting my lip, I took a deep breath and headed downhill toward the right.Please let me find him.
I made it half a block before I found his dark figure leaning against the wall of what appeared to be another bar. This one had a band playing. Something country and a bit twangy from the sound of it. He bobbed his head to the beat and pressed something to his lips.
Relief flushed some of the worry from my veins, but a hint of it still remained. I still had questions. Like why he’d left?
“Hux,” I said hesitantly as I approached.
He tensed as I came to a stop beside him, a cloud of smoke billowing out from his lips as he exhaled. The scent was sweet, not bitter like a cigarette. Tobacco, then. So it wasn’t vanilla I’d smelled on him earlier. Made sense.
“What do you want?” His tone was brusque, uninviting. He didn’t even look my way as he spoke, but instead faced toward the street, his gaze upturned like he was looking up at the star-flecked sky. I wondered if he missed seeing it. I know I would if I were in his position.
The coldness in his voice cut deep, but I did my best to ignore it as I asked, “Why did you leave?”
