“That was really sweet,” she said in an octave higher than she’d intended.
Rhonda’s face had softened, and she gestured to Two Shots. “Your cheeks are turning red. Here y’all have it—bull shifters can blush.”
“Not me,” Dead said, fumbling to open a package of Whoppers. “Blushing is for sissies.” The bag popped open, and candy rolled all over the table.
Quickdraw pulled a flask from who-knows-where and took a long swig.
“You can’t drink that on camera,” Cheyenne complained half-heartedly. “Circuit rules.”
“Rule ignored.” Quickdraw took another drink.
Cheyenne plastered a smile on her face and said, “Next question.”
“What do you plan to do as a team in the off week?” came a question from the back.
“I don’t know,” she said. “Boys, what do y’all have going?”
“Bucking practice,” Quickdraw said in a monotone.
“I have a favorite bar,” Dead said with a shrug.
“Back to my little ranch,” Two Shots answered. “Maybe text this one some nudes. Get her feelin’ spicy.” He draped his arm around Cheyenne’s chair as her cheeks caught on fire and she stared blankly ahead.
“He’ll probably write her poetry,” Dead told the crowd. “The lame kind. Because he’s a sissy.”
“Yeah, because I’m so poetic. Your fans are the poets.” Two wrenched up his voice. “Dead, Dead, you’re good in bed.”
Quickdraw choked on the liquor he was downing and cough-laughed really loud.
“Maybe I am good in bed, and that’s why they have to write sonnets about me, asshole.”
“This is good.” Cheyenne nodded as the boys started pushing each other. “This is great. Great interview.” She lifted a thumbs up into the air. “Great questions.”
At least the crowed was giggling now and not just staring at them all appalled at their behavior.
“I quit!” Dead announced. He stood and started to walk off, but turned and smacked the microphone down so it made a deafening high-pitched sound. “I quit this interview. I’m hungry. Agent! Bull agent. Bull agent Cheyenne. Feed us, we’re hungry.”
Quickdraw stood and followed him out without a single word of goodbye to the interviewers, and Two Shots yelled behind them, “Dude, you left all your candy scattered all over the table. We aren’t cleaning this up!”
“Ribeye steak!” came Dead’s echoing voice. “I want to eat my people.”
Cheyenne said the Lord’s name in vain and then stood, scooping candy balls into her palm. “I’m going to go feed the grown men, who apparently need that from me. Job applications to replace me will be with Tommy,” she teased, gesturing to the organizer, who was cracking a big old grin. “If you would like to see more of their shenanigans, they all have social media now. This should be an epic shit-show to watch.” Two Shots cupped his hands so she could dump the candy there while she talked. “We will see you all in two weeks at the Pendleton Rodeo. I will be the one looking exhausted and sneaking shots of tequila to deal with my new life. Thank you all. You have been great. Goodnight.”
She and Two Shots left to the soft laughter and murmuring of the crowd behind them, and when they were finally out of sight, he pulled her in close and kissed her, his hands gripping her waist and settling her pounding heartbeat. She could taste his smile, and her muscles relaxed.
“You were amazing out there,” he whispered against her ear.
“They were laughing!” she whisper-screamed.
“Yeah.” His smile faded slightly, and he searched her face. “You really are safe, Cheyenne. I’ve got you.”
She had never been this happy. Never in her life. Never so relieved and content and secure with her place, and it was because of him. He just always had her back and allowed her to be comfortable with exactly who she was.
That was power.
After everything, she felt like enough for him. More than enough even. And perhaps if her story had been different, that wouldn’t mean so much, but it did.
For Two Shots, she knew without a shadow of a doubt…she was enough.
“Anything you want,” she murmured, gripping the edges of his T-shirt. “That’s what you say to me.”
“And I mean it. You can have anything.”
“What if all I want is you?”
His smile was slow and steady, reaching his eyes and crinkling them at the corners. Handsome, handsome man.
He gently brushed a knuckle down her cheek. “You already have me.”
Chapter Twenty-One
“This is the part where I’m supposed to be tough, isn’t it?” Cheyenne asked as she watched Quickdraw and Dead walk into the airport security.
Quickdraw didn’t turn around, of course, but Dead did. He turned as he waited in line and gave her a little wave.
“He’s growing on you, isn’t he?” Two Shots asked.
She narrowed her eyes as he argued with the TSA agent that he shouldn’t have to remove his lucky boots. “Like a tumor.”
Two Shots chuckled and turned to her. “I don’t want to go. I don’t want to leave you to drive back alone.”
“It’s only a few hours for me. By the time you board your plane and land and drive to your ranch, I’ll be pulling onto my little street. Or I might even be inside, looking around my place and wondering what I’m going to do with my life.”
“What’s there for you?”
“The coffee shop. I’m going to stay busy for the next two weeks. Lots to plan and do.” Why did she feel so uncertain then?
Sadness pooled in Two Shots’ blue eyes. They weren’t the dark color of his bull at all right now. It was just him looking back at her. He hadn’t trimmed his beard in a couple days, and he looked so rugged and handsome standing here, so tall compared to her, so strong. People bustled around them but, for her, time stood still, and nothing around them mattered. “I don’t want you to go either,” she admitted softly.
He slipped his hands around hers, warm and strong, and squeezed. “Two weeks will fly by. Message me whenever you feel lonely. The countdown is on. This is the part we have to get used to—the distance.”
Those two words hollowed out her gut, though. The distance. She’d known Two Shots for a long time, but she’d only known-known him for a week, and now she felt like she was breaking apart saying goodbye to him.
“Is it like this all the time? With you bulls? Does it always feel so big?”
He offered her a crooked smile. “Only if it’s right.”
Knowing he had to go, she hugged him. “It’s just for a little while. Just two tiny weeks.” Who was she trying to convince? Him or her?
Two Shots hooked his finger under her chin and lifted her face. “Everything is going to be okay. I promise.” His deep reverberating voice echoed with truth.
She pushed up on her tiptoes and kissed him quick. He looked surprised for a moment, but then he cupped the side of her neck and leaned down slow, took his time and kissed her right.
When he eased back, he rested his forehead against hers and rumbled, “I have to go.”