Knowing how I was as a child, I’d bet on the latter.
“How’s that little filly comin’?” Bad asked, looking down at me as I settled beside him against the pipe-stall.
I cast a glance at Maverick. If he heard, he made no indication. But he was setting up in the box for the steer Goodie loaded into the chute. A look of pure determination made up his brutally handsome features. I doubted he heard.
I was still annoyed about our little argument earlier, but after having some time to calm down and Charlie to talk some sense into me, I wasn’t bubbling with anger. Maybe just a low simmer.
The truth is, I could have handled the situation better, but I was angry and embarrassed and frustrated. And worse, I hated that Maverick called me out. Because Ishouldhave noticed her behavior. Ishouldhave gotten my emotions under control before dealing with her. I’d been frustrated and emotional about Aunt Violet’s damn near constant barrage of phone calls—since she refused to text—about baby names. And it’s not that I wasn’t grateful, since I didn’t have a mother to share in all of this excitement with, but not gonna lie, it was a bit—okay, a lot—overwhelming.
I glanced at Bad, noting the questioning look on his face. What had he asked me? Oh, yeah…
“The filly’s comin’ along well,” I replied.
“I’m surprised Mav’s even lettin’ you anywhere near her.”
Had Maverick not told him? I was honestly a bit surprised he hadn’t. Maverick and Bad talked. A lot. Far more than I’d expect for someone as quiet as Maverick. But either Bad was just playing dumb, or he genuinely didn’t know about the argument his nephew and I had just gotten into.
“Maverick doesn’tletme do anythin’. I’m breakin’ that filly and I don’t need his permission.”
Bad’s green-gold gaze swirled with amusement. He whistled low before it broke off into a chuckle. “Well, aren’t you fiery, tonight?”
Some of the annoyance from earlier returned, though I didn’t burn as bright as before. I settled my gaze on the arena and watched Cash and Maverick do a few runs. They worked together in perfect unison. I’d seen plenty of family members rope together, but there was something almost surreal about how well they complimented each other.
“What’s different about Maverick?” Charlie’s soft, lilting voice gave me pause.
I looked at him with a more assessing eye.
That’s when I noticed it.
My heart stopped. Skipped a whole damn beat, or maybe even three.
He wasn’t wearing a long-sleeve. Nope, it was nothing more than a simple black cotton t-shirt, his muscled arms on full display. I couldn’t make out the scars from the distance, but I could imagine them in my mind, like I’d memorized every beautiful ridge and canyon.
Pride and happiness surged to life in my heart.
What had made him change? When I left, he’d been wearing a long-sleeve. But itwashot out still. Maybe he’d decided to stop being self-conscious and change into something more comfortable. Even if it was only in front of his family.
But the fact he was even wearing a t-shirt at all chased away any lingering annoyance I felt. I wanted to run out into the arena, pull him down from Black Betty, and kiss him stupid.
My cheeks hurt from how wide my smile pulled on my face as I said, “He’s not wearin’ a long-sleeve.”
“That’s it?” Charlie asked, before nodding to herself. “I guess you’re right. I don’t think I’ve ever seen him in anything but long-sleeves.”
I didn’t look at her as I spoke. No, my gaze was glued to Maverick. “It’s because of the scars.”
“Oh, from the accident.” It wasn’t so much a question as a statement.
Bad’s gravelly voice managed to pull my gaze from my hot as hell boyfriend. “I think I can count on one hand the number of times I’ve even seen a glimpse of ‘em.” He looked at me,wonder and a bit of awe in his gaze. “I don’t know what you’ve done to that boy, but I like it.”
Charlie smiled and nudged me. “Look at you working your magic on him.”
I laughed and rolled my eyes. “It ain’t magic, just confidence.”
The truth is, I wasn’t doing anything to Maverick other than loving him, appreciating him, showing him with my words and my body how truly amazing he was.
He was the one with the magic in him, I just gave him a reason to shine.
Charlie and I hungaround as the roping practice turned into a lesson for Cason. All four men took turns offering him bits of advice, though the most vocal by far were Bad and Maverick. While they both had different methods—Bad was more concerned about the overall experience, whereas Maverick was zoned in on tweaking the small details—the two taught well together, complementing one another’s strengths and weaknesses. Bad had a short temper and attention span; Maverick was calmer, but tended to get a little too hyper fixated on individual issues. I knew they wererelated, not by blood… But it still surprised me how similar they were.
