“Just make sure it’s fair to Quickdraw. He shouldn’t pay for that man’s mistakes. He wants to get to know you, Annabelle, the real you, and you aren’t an easy open. You’re like one of those prank presents that’s all wrapped up in duct tape and a wooden box. A man needs a box cutter and a crowbar to get to the goods inside.”
“It’s just how I’m built,” Annabelle said. “A man has to work harder for my heart. That’s all.”
“Yeah, but that’s not how you were when we were growing up. You were open and believed in the good in everyone. That relationship changed you, so it’s time to un-fuck yourself. Not for your ex, but for you. Believe in the good again.” Raven canted her head, and the smile that spread across her face was so effortless, so pretty. “Trust me. Some men have so much good in them. Maybe just try to use a little less duct tape on your present.”
This conversation had been surprisingly eye-opening. Raven had never talked like this to or about her. She’d been paying attention. But the problem was, as much as she hoped he wouldn’t run, sometimes that happened. Sometimes people dragged their feet and then ran. And what if she allowed herself to get close to him and then he abandoned her? It would be damage like Matthew gave her all over again. It was scary to open up like that again with anyone, much less a huge risk like a nomadic bull shifter chasing rodeo events. There was no stability in his life.
“Subject change. You look hot in flannel,” Cheyenne complimented her.
“I do?” Annabelle looked over at her reflection in the closet door mirrors and then stretched her long leg out to admire the jeans, too. She stood and did a turn, hugged the fitted flannel closer to her curves and sashayed this way and that. The jeans made her butt look perky and her legs look longer, shapelier. Huh. She’d thought she wasn’t going to be cute tonight, but the teal in the shirt made her bright blue eyes pop, too.
This wasn’t her usual style, but she had to admit, she didn’t hate it. And she was comfy-as-hell right now. She was even wearing her most comfortable high heels under the boot cut jeans to give her legs more length.
She turned this way and that in the mirror. Huh. Huh, huh, huh. This was the best she’d felt about herself in months.
Cheyenne leaned closer to Raven with a conspiratorial smile. “She’s one of us now.”
When they were finished getting ready, Cheyenne led them outside and past a few RVs until they reached the home she shared with her mate, Two Shots Down. The boys were outside, sitting around a fire pit, drinking bottles of Michelob Ultra with slices of lime floating in them. Ha.
“Don’t judge me,” Quickdraw grumbled. “Hanging around these idiots is making me weak.”
“On the outside, he’s a cactus,” Dead explained, “but on the inside, he’s got a soft, mushy-gushy center.”
Quickdraw chugged the last few sips of his beer and stood up. “Okay, let’s fight.”
“No!” Cheyenne barked. “You have interviews tomorrow, and I’ll be damned if you show up to another one with black eyes.”
“Ha, ha,” Dead taunted, pointing at Quickdraw, who looked like he was about to snap the bearded behemoth’s finger off.
Cheyenne stomped her foot. “I was talking to you, Dead!”
Dead of Winter scrunched up his face. “Two Shits, your wifey is very angry today. You should probably bone her bett—”
“Do you want to die today?” Two Shots asked him, standing up with Quickdraw.
“Everyone in the trucks!” Raven said cheerfully. “Tonight is herd bonding time and my first night out with my bestie in a month. You jackasses aren’t going to ruin this for us.”
The boys were all frozen, glaring at each other.
“Now!” Raven demanded, then did an about-face and made her way toward a huge, jacked up truck with Cheyenne.
This was the part where Annabelle was supposed to stick with the girls, right? And back up their bravado? Because they obviously knew how to manage these titans better than her, but she couldn’t pull herself away from Quickdraw. If Two Shots or Dead threw a punch, she was about to get involved.
Dead twitched forward like he was gonna rush Quickdraw, but he didn’t. He just whispered, “My girl will kill you.”
“No, she won’t,” Quickdraw muttered. “You annoy her more than I do.”
“She’ll turn into a longhorn and stab you in the face.” Dead was glaring and saying each word with passion, but behind them, Two Shots was pursing his lips against a grin.
“Well, I have a werewolf,” Quickdraw whispered back, “and she would rip your throat out and squat on your carcass. I’ve seen her get protective. She’s fuckin’ terrifying.”
Dead cast Annabelle a calculating glance. “How terrifying?”
Quickdraw splayed his legs, crossed his arms over his chest, lifted his chin in the air, and glared down his nose at Dead. “You would piss your pants if you saw her. I’ve seen her with my own eyes. She’s like those legend werewolves that kill whole villages for fun.”
Two Shots looked at her with his eyebrows raised, and he looked pretty damn impressed right now, so she shook her head and mouthed, No I’m not.
She’d forgotten Quickdraw had seen her wolf, though. She’d changed the night they’d spent together because he had asked to see that side of her. She wasn’t modest about her animal as long as she felt safe. That night, she’d felt safe.
Dead took a step closer and flinched at Quickdraw again. “Well, my lady would stomp on your lady and squish her head like a grape with her Hagan hoof.”
“No I wouldn’t,” Raven called out. “She’s my best friend! I’m getting hungry, Dead. Can you please continue your pissing contest in the car?”
Dead narrowed his eyes at Quickdraw and walked slowly past him. “I don’t know what a pissing contest means, but I could piss farther than you, too.”
Quickdraw’s eye twitched as he watched Dead walk away. Two Shots was laughing under his breath, and Annabelle’s cheeks were hot from the effort exerted not to bust out laughing.
“I would rather stick my balls in a fire ant mound than ride in the same truck with them to the bar,” Quickdraw enlightened her.
“Let’s take our own chariot then,” she said cheerily. “For I like your balls better without fire ant bites.”
“Mmmm,” he rumbled. With light fingertips pressed to the small of her back, he guided her toward his truck parked beside his camper. “So, you’re saying you like my balls.”
With a snort, she pushed him playfully. “One-track mind. All you boys have a one-track mind. Quickdraw!”
He startled. “What?”
“I forgot I showed you my wolf.”
“Holy shit, Annabelle. You scared me. I thought it was something serious.”
“Oh, no. Sometimes I just get random bouts of excitement.”
He got this lopsided little grin and ran his hand down his dark beard. “That’s pretty cute. And I don’t usually say that word because men don’t say the word ‘cute,’ but you’re really fuckin’ cute.”
Annabelle couldn’t stop the smile that commandeered her face if she tried.