Chapter Eleven
Five hours into the road trip, Two Shots, leading their caravan, pulled off the highway.
Raven pointed to the exit sign as they passed. “Exit sixty-nine.”
“We should do that tonight. Exit sixty-nine, I feel like it’s a sign,” Dead said. “See how I rhymed that?”
“Yeah, your whole career revolves around poetry.” She pointed to the shirt she wore, two sizes too big and tied at her waist. On it was a picture of the stands at some rodeo, and smack-dab in the middle was a woman holding a sign that read Dead, Dead, he’s good in bed.
“Oh, it’s fun to read what the fans come up with. Dead, Dead, you have a big head. Dead, Dead, he’s an inbred. That one came from someone who wasn’t a fan of mine,” he explained with a chuckle. Dead leaned an elbow against the window frame and draped one hand over the steering wheel. “Dead, Dead, he don’t eat bread. Dead, Dead, was it something I said? Dead, Dead, he’s seein’ red. Dead, Dead, horns full of lead. Dead, Dead, take us both home instead.”
“Let me guess. From two female fans?”
He took a right behind where Two Shots had turned in front of them. “Yep.”
Raven tried to make her voice nonchalant as she asked, “And did you take them home?”
“Hell no. One woman is enough. Y’all are crazy. I’m not doing double the work.”
She snickered and smacked his arm lightly. “We’re not that bad.”
“No, you aren’t that bad. Every other female I’ve met? Work.”
“Maybe you just don’t have patience for us.”
“No.” His tone went serious and he cast a bright-eyed glance at her. “No, that ain’t it. There’s a saying in the industry. If you get paired up, it takes away from your drive. You start worrying about being home and the mate you have waiting up for you. You start checkin’ your phone more, focusing on building a relationship, and you lose the drive to buck.”
“I didn’t think of that.” She drew her feet under her, crossing her legs. “I can see how that would be true, though. Relationships take a lot of work, a lot of energy, and right now all your energy is going into your career. It would shake things up for sure.”
Dead shrugged up a shoulder and slowed his truck behind Two Shots, whose brake lights had come on the camper he was pulling. “I used to believe that so I steered clear of anything serious on purpose. Anyone got too close, I gave them the boot. I kept all my walls up and kept blinders on so I could just get through each week bucking and improve. I didn’t want anyone to take my focus off what I wanted to do.”
“Do you still believe a woman will kill your career?”
“Nope.”
“Why not?” Curiosity might have killed the cat, but she was a cow, and there weren’t any sayings about that.
Dead gestured up ahead of them to where Two Shots was taking a right onto a dirt road. “Being around Two Shots and Cheyenne changed my mind. She doesn’t let him lose focus, and now he has something bigger to buck for. Something outside of himself. He wants to buy her a ring. A pretty ring like she deserves. A big flashy one. And not just a ring. He wants to give her a life. A good life. He talked to me and Quickdraw about it, and now he’s been holding onto top two bull in the world and getting paid. And Cheyenne pushes him in good ways. She doesn’t take his crap, doesn’t get soft when he’s sore or tweaks something. She tells him to buck up. So now, I think that a female wouldn’t be so bad if it were the right fit.”
“The right fit,” she repeated softly.
“Yeah. If she inspired a bull and pushed him in the right direction. Propped him up when he had his quiet, weak moments. Any insecurities, tell him to fuck off and get back to work. Stuff like that.”
“I don’t think I could tell you to fuck off ever.”
“You saying you aren’t cut out for it?”
Honestly, after he’d explained all that…she wasn’t so sure. She had a very different personality than Cheyenne. “I don’t know.”
“I met a stranger who bought me a beer and stopped what she was doing to help me at a table. You did all the little work that takes away from my quality time with fans, and you never asked for payment, credit, or attention for it. You were fine just being in the background helping me and Cheyenne. And then you made yourself at home in my kitchen and helped me cook without me asking. You accepted my friends and fit right in with them, but you know what you haven’t done yet?”
“What?”
Readjusting, he pulled her hand from her lap and kissed her knuckle. “Asked me why I buck or when will I quit this career.”
“Oh.” She smiled shyly. “It never crossed my mind that you would stop. It’s part of you. What right would I have to take away something you obviously love?”
His eyebrows arched up high. “So what were you saying about not making a good teammate?”
“Teammate?”
“Well, if I call you ‘girlfriend,’ you’ll get that shut-down look in your eye because the logical part of you is pretty big, and you think it’s too soon for me to like you this much without some other shoe about to drop. So, we’ll go at your pace. Slow as a fuckin’ snail for me, but I get it.”
“Teammate. Or partner. I like that. It means neither one of us is putting in more effort than the other.”
“Exactly. Neither one of us is less important than the other. I’ve never
