Cheyenne was smiling so big, her whole face was involved, but Raven couldn’t figure out why. She just followed Dead into his changing room and closed the door behind them. By the time the door clicked closed and she’d turned around, Dead was already in his human skin again and standing to his full height.
God, he looked good—all flushed from his change, his perfectly defined chest and abs flexing with his breath. His fists were clenched at his sides, his powerful legs splayed, and his darkened eyes were roiling with intensity. His smile was slow but easy, and as she made her way to him, the tension left his body little by little. By the time she pulled off her hat and slipped her arms around his waist, his rigid body had gone soft for her.
It felt so good to just rest her cheek against his chest and melt into his touch. He rubbed her back and laid his head on the top of hers.
“Hey, Raven?”
She just knew he would say something so romantic in this moment. Just knew it. She smiled mushily and asked, “Yes?”
“I think all of the girl vitamins are out of my system.”
With a frown at the wall, she asked, “What?”
“And today is the day,” he said mysteriously.
Raven leaned back and stared up at him. “What is today?”
“The day I allow a female to dictate how my beard is trimmed.”
Raven parted her lips to ask questions, but closed them again when she realized she didn’t even understand enough to ask a good question.
“I’m abiding by the contract. Cheyenne wins. I figure it’s the least I can do since she works so hard to make my life easier.” He nodded magnanimously. “I accept your proposal, Raven.”
“Proposal?”
“My answer is yes. I will marry you.”
She was pretty sure she could catch a fly with her mouth hanging this far open.
“Just kidding, I know you haven’t proposed yet. I give it another week. I want white gold for my ring.” He laughed at his own jokes. “I mean your proposal to cut my hair and trim my beard and make me into a ten.”
“You’re already a ten, Dead.”
“Mmmmm. I’m a nine point nine. There’s room for improvement.” He released her and made his way to a duffle bag full of what appeared to be power drinks, beer, his flank rope, and a hair trimming kit, which he pulled out and held up like the monkey with the baby lion in the Lion King. “Make me into a ten.”
She giggled and shook her head. “You’re so weird.”
“Yes, but there is a reason for my weirdness tonight. Want to know what it is? Huh? Huuuuuh?” He pulled on a pair of jeans. “I’ll give you some hints. Planes, good seats, yo momma, good first impressions, and a midnight boner.”
“Is this a riddle? I’m very bad at riddles.”
“Facetime your mom.”
Feeling like a whale out of water, she pulled her phone from her back pocket and dialed her mom. As it rang, she whispered, “Am I really supposed to be the one to propose?”
He grinned. “I will be a groomzilla.”
“Hellooooo!” Mom answered over the noise of a crowd.
“Dead said to call you and…wait—” She squinted as her mom panned her phone around the familiar looking arena. “Are you here? In Lubbock?”
“Yes!” She aimed the camera at Dad and Annabelle, who were waving from some very impressive seats. “Dead got us front row tickets!”
Annabelle leaned into the frame with mom. “And there’s a seat for you, too! He got us flights here!”
Mom chimed in, “And he’s taking us to dinner after his interviews! And he got us VIP passes! And—”
“Oh, my gosh, you’re really here!” Raven yelped. “My favorite people are here! Dead!” She offered him a wide-eyed look. “You brought my favorite people here!”
His smile was all mushy as he sat on the bench and pulled her onto his lap. She kept the camera angled at their faces. “Do you like the seats?” he asked Mom.
It was Dad who answered from the row above them. He was sitting next to a tall man in a cowboy hat. “You can’t get any better seats than these! We are right by the chutes! Your dad has been explaining everything to us!”
“Hey, Dad,” Dead said as the old cowboy tossed them a wave.
“That’s your dad?” Raven asked, completely stunned. “Hi, Mr. Dead. Mr. Winter? It’s so nice to meet you! I’ll come out and shake your hand as soon as Dead heads up to the chutes!”
Dead’s dad gave a chuckle and nodded. “Can’t wait to meet the lady behind that Hagan Heifer. Knew it would take someone special to get to Dead.” His voice was all gritty and had a deep southern accent.
“Okay, you wild things, I have a round of beers and hot dogs coming up to you any second now,” Dead told them. “I’m gonna get my head in the game, and me and the herd will hopefully put on a good show for you tonight.”
“Good luck!” Mom called.
“You’re going to do great!” Annabelle cheered from beside Mom.
“Are you wearing Team Dead shirts?” Raven asked, narrowing her eyes at the logos on Mom and Annabelle’s T-shirts.
“Oh, yeah, Dead had these waiting at will-call with our tickets,” Annabelle explained, pointing to the Dead is the horniest logo with a cartoon rendering of Dead’s bull, horns bigger than real life.
It was a ridiculous shirt. It was so…so…Dead.
“Oh, Lord,” she muttered through her giggling.
They said their goodbyes and hung up, and she immediately
