by T. S. Joyce
“A girlfriend?” she asked.
Quickdraw turned the key, and the engine roared to life. “More like a wife.”
Annabelle’s mouth plopped open. “A wife? You were married?”
He pulled out in front of Dead of Winter’s truck, fishtailing and spraying gravel behind him, and then he rolled down the window and flipped him off. There was that handsome semi-evil smile again.
“Okay, but on all the background info on you, it only mentions an ex-girlfriend…that you have tattooed on your arm.” She didn’t really like that part. It bothered her every time she glimpsed the naked pinup doll on his left bicep.
“You researched me?” he asked.
Oh, shoot. “Uuuuh, not researched per say, but just stumbled across all of your personal information.”
“It’s okay, Stalker. I researched you, too.”
“Gasp and shock. But how much could you really find out? I don’t do social media.”
“Have you Googled yourself lately? I found pictures of you from the third grade, easy. And what I couldn’t find on Google, I found out from other sources.”
“What sources?”
“Let’s just say you aren’t the only werewolf I know.”
“Eeek, okay.” Her heart was pounding hard. This was a good thing, right? If he knew more werewolves, he would understand her easier. “What werewolves do you know?”
“The Kaid Brothers, and one of them can find out just about anything if he puts his mind to it. Or if I pay him two hundred bucks. He’s like my own private investigator.”
“That’s a little creepy.”
Quickdraw shrugged up his shoulders and gave her a look that said he didn’t give a single shit about her name-calling. “It was a waste of money. I found out you had braces for a couple years in middle school, were turned into a werewolf when you were eight on accident and survived it, which means you must be one tough little hellion. You worked at your dad’s junkyard until a few years ago when you picked up a job as an online stylist. The company website is pretty awesome. I mean, if I were a chick and liked that kind of stuff. High heels and purses and shit. Your last known relationship was three years ago, and from Matthew Maholin’s social media pages, he looks like a boring douchebag, so I know your taste in men is questionable. Which is good for me because I’m a pretty bad call.”
“Well, that’s a good sales pitch,” she uttered sarcastically.
“Thank you. I have plans, though.”
“Oh yeah? What plans?”
“Get you addicted to feeling safe, show you an opening in the herd that could be yours, completely bribe and manipulate you with more time with Raven, set up girl dates with Cheyenne, too, so you want to spend more time on the road with me, make you come at least three times every time I fuck you—”
“So that I get addicted to your dick, too?”
“Exactly, and then when you’re nice and comfortable and in love with me, I’m gonna drop my red flags on you.”
“Or…” she said, curling her legs up to her stomach and leaning on the console, “we could skip straight to the red flags, and you and I could both decide early if we even match.”
He narrowed his dark brown eyes at her. “That’s not part of my plan. My red flags are very big.”
“Maybe mine are, too.”
“Hmmm.” He drove in silence for a couple of miles up a main road.
She let him have his silence, let him get lost in his thoughts, because some men needed that. They needed to process thoughts when they were thrown a curveball. And from the interviews she’d seen of him, he was very careful when he answered questions, if he answered them at all.
“I got married a year after I started my bucking career. It was a bad match. Toxic or whatever. We were either full of joy or full of hate, and there was never a day that was in between. Lookin’ back, it was just as much my fault as hers, and I had to learn some really heavy lessons. Now, I ain’t opposed to caring about a woman again. That’s new for me—moving forward enough to want to try. But caring for you is where we will stop. It’s the max you’ll get. Do you understand?”
“No,” she murmured. “You mean you won’t ever get married again?”
He shook his head. “Never in this lifetime.”
“Truth,” she said softly. Inside her chest cavity, an ache unfurled. His tone had been so easy to read the honesty. He truly believed he would never get married again, and so that was his truth. She’d been here before. Been burned before. Wasted her time before.
“I want to get married someday,” she said.
“Truth.” His voice was all gritty. “There’s my big red flag, Annabelle. From the look on your face, it may be a deal breaker. I wish I would’ve done my plan instead.”
“Get me addicted to you and a life with you?”
He dipped his chin in a single nod.
“You wanted to trap me?”
Another nod. Well, at least he was honest.
“But you barely know me.”
“You got a ride to a hospital in an unfamiliar town to stand watch over three poisoned bull shifters you’d never met in your life.” He glanced over at her with an eyebrow cocked high. “I know all I need to know.”
She allowed a couple minutes to pass as she watched the trees blur by out of her window. “What did your ex-wife do to you that you waited so long to open up again?”
Quickdraw ran a quick hand through his hair and stretched his neck to the side. She’d seen him do that in interviews when he didn’t want to answer questions, so she expected him to shut down on her. But…he didn’t. “Her name was Maren, and she was nice in the beginning. I think she liked the attention that my career gave her. She liked being seen with me, having that sense of power, and claiming me in front of the crowds. But as she watched me rising in my career, she got bored. Less of the attention was on her. She figured out she didn’t like the life, didn’t like moving around, didn’t like traveling to arenas, didn’t care that it was important to me, and she started distancing herself from me. It hurt. It hurts shifters. You ever bonded to a man before?”
She nodded her head. “Bonding to a man ruined my favorite parts of myself. It made me loyal to someone who never figured out how to be loyal back. It got me stuck. My wolf got stuck on him for a long time.”
“Oh, Jesus, I’m sorry.” Quickdraw slid his hand over her thigh and squeezed gently. “I didn’t mean to bring up old ghosts, but you asked. I wanted tonight to just be fun.”
“Honestly?” she asked, scrunching up her face. “I appreciate an honest conversation. I would rather know exactly where both of us stand than stay confused.” She rested her hand on top of his because it felt good to share touch when they were baring old burdens, old memories, old hurts. “Did your bull choose Maren? Did you get stuck?”
“Stuck is the perfect word for it. I think you understand the damage without me having to talk on it too much. My bull was the one who chose Maren, but she was human. She didn’t have a whole ton of empathy or desire to understand me. She would always say, ‘Why can’t you just be a normal man?’ I didn’t have an answer because I didn’t know what a normal man was. I just know what I am. I tried to change, paid attention to what she reacted to, and started walking on eggshells because I was pretending to be someone I wasn’t to please the heart of someone I didn’t match with. I withered and watched her growing unhappier, too. I knew I was doing that to her because there was something about me that wasn’t good enough, and we both just kinda…”
“Poisoned each other?” She knew all about poison.
He bit the corner of his lip and gave another nod. “That sounds right. At the end, I wasn’t the same man who went into that relationship anymore. He didn’t exist when we signed the divorce paperwork. I didn’t recognize myself when she stayed behind in the big-ass ranch I bought her. I didn’t recognize her when she took every penny I’d earned. I didn’t trust anyone or anything anymore. So, I let the bull take over for a few years and j
ust went full-go at the career. It’s all I had. It was the only thing that never let me down.”
That last line sang to her soul. “And look where it got you, Quickdraw. You’re the number one bull in the world right now. Look at your success. Maybe Maren wasn’t your match, but in a way, she did you a favor. She carved out the perfect sized chip on your shoulder.”
“Even so, I won’t do that to another woman, and I won’t let a woman do that to me again.”
“Do what?”
“Make me lose myself. So, this is it. There’s the proposition. I want to get to know you and spend time with you but not put any labels on us. Just take it easy and have fun.”
Just have fun. Just be casual. Could she do that? Could she do that with the lingering questions about her situation right now? But it was tempting. He was offering her a no-strings attached situation. An escape from the day-to-day life. She would have someone to text goodnight, visit, and share affection with. She would have an adventure partner. And if she turned out not to be pregnant—which was probably the case, and her wolf was just wishful thinking and acting crazy—this could be a solution for her loneliness. Because, really, was she in any position to get into another serious relationship after the walls she’d built with Matthew? “Can I think about it?” she asked.
“Of course.”
“Can I ask questions so I know where I would stand?”
“You can ask me anything.”
“Would you be talking to other women, too? Would they have the same proposition?”
“This better not be the part where you run.”
“I can’t run,” she said cheekily. “I’m stuck in your truck until we get to the bar, so you have that long to convince me of why I should consider this…friendship.”
“Oh, it ain’t a friendship. I think you’re the prettiest woman I’ve ever seen, and I’ve thought about that night with you a thousand times. Ain’t no friend-zone. I’m gonna make you feel good.”
“Okay, I stand corrected. You have that long to convince me of this friends-with-benefits relationship if I so choose it.”
“Better. Okay, to answer your question, I won’t be lookin’ at other girls. I don’t have interest in that now. All I think about is you. Someday, you’re gonna figure out what you did to me, but I’m in no rush to explain it. Hunter Kaid said you lost your job a few weeks back, so you’re in between them, right?”
“Yes,” she said through clenched teeth. Hmmm, so Hunter Kaid was his source. Good to know, because when she could change into her wolf again, she was going to give that cowboy hell. She knew who the Kaids were. Any werewolf worth their weight in salt knew who they were.
“I’ll only have my eyes on you, and that means making you happy if I can, taking care of you, and being honest when you need questions answered. I want you to tour with me through the weekend and on the marketing tour that follows the finals. Wherever I rank—”
“It’ll be number one—”
“Wherever I rank,” he continued, “I’ll still be a part of the marketing tour afterward, and I want you to stay. Take a serious look at this life and warm up to me if you like me. After that, you can decide if you want to stick with this. You can decide if it’s enough for you.”
“Why? Why are you wanting this? Why are you wanting a girl for the finals and for the marketing tour?”
“Not just a girl. You. I risk losing focus right at the end, but for the last month, since that night with you, I can’t get you out of my head. And for me, that has to mean something. I don’t care about anyone, Annabelle. At least I didn’t until I joined this fucked-up herd with Two Shots and Dead and their ladies. I was fine being alone. I didn’t call anyone after a buck. I didn’t share my triumphs, and I didn’t share my failures. I was good with just me on my team. And then I started leaning on Dead and Two Shots during events, cheering them on, feeling that fire when they cheered me on, and I hated them a little less. I saw them take care of their ladies in the way I never figured out with Maren. And I hated them a little less. Then I met you. And when you left, Raven noticed me get quieter. She took the time to ask me what was wrong, but I didn’t know. Hell, I still don’t know what’s wrong with me. But every day, she checked on me and, sometimes, she just talked about you, like she knew I needed that. She let me get to know you through her eyes, through her stories of when y’all were kids. I guess I don’t want to just think about you all the time anymore. I want to be around you. I want to know what all this means, and the only way I can figure myself out is if I spend time with you. I’m watching Two Shots and Dead of Winter succeed with their bucking, but it’s different than it was before. They’re happy. They aren’t made of fire and brimstone no more. They buck to make their mates proud, to give them a better life, and it’s more honorable than just bucking because you’re filled with hate. And maybe I want to try it. Maybe I don’t want to buck just to satisfy the chip that got carved into my shoulder. Maybe I want to buck to make someone proud of me.”
Annabelle’s heart was pounding so hard. Could he hear it racing out of her chest? She wasn’t used to a man being so open. So honest. She wasn’t used to a man exposing his heart at all. She would’ve never, in a trillion years, imagined Quickdraw Slow Burn had a depth like this.
“You don’t have any family to make proud?”
He shook his head. “All gone.”
“All gone, how?”
His lip snarled up just slightly, and she knew she’d hit a nerve.
“You said ask you anything. That’s the benefit to this arrangement, right? We can just be honest right from the start. Show each other the good, the bad, and the ugly.”
“They all passed on,” he ground out. “I’m the only Burn left.”
“Oh, no,” she whispered. Horrified by even the thought of losing her own parents, Annabelle slid her hand to his shoulder and massaged his neck. “I’m sorry.”
“It’s fine.”
“I have one more question.”
He cleared his throat and adjusted himself in the seat, gripped the wheel a little tighter. “Ask as many as you want.”
She licked her lips and waited through the chorus of the country song playing low on his radio. She was being a coward, and she didn’t like being weak, so she closed her eyes and forced out the words, “Do you want to have kids someday?”
“No.” There was such finality in his tone. Such an honest note. “I want Dead of Winter and Two Shots down to have little bull calves, and I’ll be the uncle who helps train them up.” He cast her a sideways glance and squeezed her thigh again. “And you dug out the other red flag on me. Now you go. What’s the red flags on you?”
Annabelle stared out the window, biting her bottom lip to stop it from trembling. What if she was? What if she was? What if she was pregnant by a man who never wanted to have children? Shit.
There was her red flag. She didn’t know yet if she was making decisions for one person or two.
She huffed a sigh and turned up the radio a little. With a forced smile for Quickdraw, she said, “I’ll think about your proposal.”
He chuckled. “Playing hard to get on those red flags, huh? Okay, I’ll enjoy it better if I get to figure out your crazy firsthand. Think about the proposition tomorrow. Tonight? Let’s just have fun. I could use some fun.”
Annabelle laughed thickly. It had been a really long month. “Me, too.”
Chapter Five
“Here, hand it to me,” Quickdraw said, holding out his hand.
“My ID?”
“Yeah, and your lip glitter and whatever other girly shit you need to bring in. I have pockets, and then you don’t have to worry about bringing in your purse and keeping up with it.”
“You would carry my lip gloss?” No man had ever offered that to her before, and she sat there utterly shocked that he would even care enough to take the burden of her purse away from her.
“Sure. Also, I’m not drinking tonight. I just want you to have a good time. I’ll g
et us home safe.”
The way he said home swirled up a tornado of emotions. Hope, familiarity, intimidation, and happiness all fought for the foreground. Her mind was chaos today.
“Okay. Don’t steal my identity,” she joked as she handed over her driver’s license.
“Oh, if I wanted to, I could’ve already. I know your social security number.” He gave her a wink as her face went slack and then said, “Just kidding probably.”
He wasn’t kidding. Hunter Kaid was going to get an earful from her.
Quickdraw slid her ID into his wallet and shoved her lip gloss and a piece of her favorite gum deep into his pocket for her. When she handed him a couple of twenty-dollar bills, all neatly folded, he frowned at the small wad of cash and refused to take it.
“Another rule of our arrangement… If I ask you out, I want to pay for our adventure.” His liquor-brown eyes were so earnest.
They were just friends, though, and paying for each other’s drinks and food felt like dating. She parted her lips to explain, but he stopped her.
“My parents taught me this part, and I don’t want to budge so don’t make me.”
“They taught you how to be a gentleman?”
“The traditional kind.”
Huh. She kind of liked that. So, she put her money back in her wallet and tucked her purse under one of his oversize hoodies on the floor by her feet. Then she hopped down out of the truck.
“That’s a pretty smile,” Quickdraw said softly.
He was already leaned up against the front of the truck, watching her. Annabelle quit smoothing out her flannel shirt and shifted her weight from side to side. “I really liked our conversation on the way over. And I like being here.”
Quickdraw tossed a look behind him at a bar with a neon sign in the shape of an armadillo. There was a fight happening out front. “You like being at a roughneck bar in the middle of nowhere?”
“No, I mean with you,” she said and then gave an evil grin as she uttered a nickname, “my little Cow Pie.”
“Ha!” His single laugh echoed through the raucous parking lot. “New arrangement rule—”
