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 handto 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.”
