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Chapter Eight
GAVIN
“He’s bein’ a bastard, ain’t he?” Jackson asks, hanging on the railing.
“Oh yeah,” I respond, nearly breathless.
A new colt was delivered last Monday, and he’s my special project. They named him Demon for a fuckin’ reason too ’cause he’s a little shit and doesn’t want to cooperate. If he keeps it up, we’ll be doing laps around the corral for the next two weeks. One thing I’ve learned while training horses is to have patience and be gentle. These animals don’t trust humans on instinct. It’s something that’s earned.
“Rodeo’s next week, right?”
I glance at him over my shoulder. “Yes, sir.”
“Good deal. I’m gonna try to watch your trainee ride. Hopefully, he places. Anyway, I’ll let you get back to it.”
“Alrighty, thanks,” I say, then slowly walk up to Demon as he backs away. Eventually, his curiosity gets the best of him, and he takes a few steps forward. Holding out my hand, I let him sniff me and keep my movements slow. The last thing I want is to spook him.
I touch the softness of his nose, then create some space so he can get reacquainted with learning. Right now, he’s ready to bolt, and if the gate was open, he would.
After a minute of staring each other down, I grab the rope and start lead practice. He trots around in circles, and I swing the extra ends of the rope in the other direction, and he turns around. We do this for thirty minutes, and then I give him a break. Demon eyes me.
I click my tongue, encouraging him to come toward me. I clip the rope to his halter and lead him around the pen, then we go back to our training.
As he makes his way around the pen, I notice Maize from my peripheral. She’s watching me train, and a smile forms on my face. She’s no different than the horses—resentful, hesitant, but also interested—and I’m determined to break her too. The chase keeps me going, but I also like the thought of being with her too. I may be a retired bull rider, but I’ll always be a champ, and I’m ready to win her over.
When I turn my head, our eyes meet, and she freezes in place. She’s carrying bags, and I’m sure she’s bringing Kiera and Jackson breakfast. Sometimes she does that when they’re not as busy at the B&B. Wiping the sweat off my brow, I keep my eyes on Demon. As he does laps, she moves closer and hangs on the gate.
“Hey,” she coos, her voice soft and sweet.
“Hi.” I don’t stop my training session even though I want to do nothing but pay attention to her right now. Not sure what it is about Maize Bishop, but the chemistry we share and the way she makes me feel are different from all the other women I’ve ever been with. She’s not the type you have a one-night stand with and forget, but rather the kind of lady you bring home to meet your mama.
“What’re ya doin’ for lunch?” she asks.
“No plans,” I say with a half-grin.
“Why don’t you come down to the B&B and eat? I know this sounds silly, but you lived rodeo life for a long while, and I’d like your opinion on something.”
I lower my arms, and instantly, Demon stops trotting and stands twenty yards away and stares at me. Bringing my gaze to her, I walk closer. “About what?”
“I cooked the brisket I’m entering into the contest and want you to try it since you’ve been all over the state. Barbecue is a whole food group in Texas, and I know you’ve probably eaten truckloads of it.” She hesitates. “I just don’t want to go embarrassing myself. The only thing is, you’ll have to promise to be truthful no matter what.”
I study her lips, then meet her soft eyes. Something about Maize drives me absolutely fucking crazy, and right now, all I want to do is swipe my lips against hers until we’re both breathless.
“So, what do you say?” she finally asks.
“Sure. I’ll be there, but you owe me one,” I tell her with a wink.
She chuckles, a sound I don’t get to hear too often. “Add it to my tab. See you at eleven.”
Once Maize is out of sight, I go back to Demon, and we try saddle training next. When I look down at my phone, I realize it’s nearly time to meet Maize. Quickly, I finish up, then I pop my head into the office and let Jackson know I’m going to the B&B for lunch in case he comes lookin’ for me.
On the way over, I can’t stop smiling because this is a step in the right direction. Though Maize and I have played tug-of-war for months, her reaching out for my help feels like progress. She’s smart to ask me because I have eaten a lot of barbecue over the years. It’s a staple at every damn rodeo I’ve ever been to.
