Dead of Winter (Battle of the Bulls #2) - T. S. Joyce Page 0,6
sat in the chair and wished she could bury her head in the sand like an ostrich.
The table got rushed by the first three girls in line, who all had pictures of Dead. Two were glossy eight-by-tens of his black and white bull mid-buck, his back hooves kicked up in the air, while the other one was of him without a shirt on, Wranglers, belt buckle, and a horse saddle thrown over his back. Now, Raven had never been a fan of cowboy hats because they just weren’t her style, but on Dead of Winter? He looked sexy. In the picture, a sheen of sweat glistened on his muscular chest, and he had his chin tilted up as he gave the camera a wicked smile.
“You like that one?” he asked as he signed the first one with a silver permanent marker.
“Me?” she asked.
“Yeah you. You keep starin’ at it. It’s okay to tell your boyfriend he’s hot. I like compliments. Compliments and positive reinforcement make me work harder. For example…” He looked up at his fan and grinned at her. “If a woman told me she liked something in the bedroom, I would explore everything about that until she was moaning my name and begging me to never stop.”
The fan started fanning herself with a sign that read—Raven leaned forward and squinted at the upside-down words—Dead, Dead, you’re good in bed.
Oh, God. “I should really be going,” Raven whispered.
“Nonsense, you aren’t going anywhere,” Dead rumbled, squeezing her leg under the table.
She didn’t even flinch. Huh. It actually was a little comfort. Huh.
“Look, when you’re in a relationship—” he started.
“We aren’t in a relationship,” she gritted out through clenched teeth.
Dead held up a finger and winked at the next fan, then yanked Raven’s chair right up against his and leaned into her ear. “You support your person. Tonight, I have to sign a bunch of half-naked pictures of myself for these humans. I don’t like humans much. And I have to take pictures I don’t want to take and fill these ladies’ spank banks with the fantasy of me, when in reality, I just dropped to a rank that guts me, I’m worried about my friend, I’m drowning in guilt, I’m starving, my shoulder is sore because I can’t seem to keep the damn thing in its socket, and the only thing that has felt decent tonight is when a woman I’ve never met before said ‘It’s okay,’ in that arena. Support me here, and I’ll buy you a pair of boots.”
Raven parted her lips to respond, but no words came out. He was just lingering by her ear, his lips almost touching her lobe. She could feel the featherlight wind from his warm breath, and chills rippled up her forearms. “What kind of boots?”
“Western, of course.”
“I don’t wear cowgirl boots.”
“They’ll be leather, good quality, and I’ll find them in black with a little bit of a heel to show off those sexy legs of yours. Python if you want. I could see you liking snakeskin boots. They match your style. The next rodeo you come to see me at, you’ll be wearing the right shoes.”
Well, she didn’t plan on attending any more rodeos, but how the heck was she going to argue with that? Those boots sounded awesome. And he’d paid attention to her style. Maybe trying black cowgirl boots wouldn’t be so bad. If they were a gift and she didn’t have to pay for them.
Raven cleared her throat and smiled at the fan who was waiting on the other side of the table, snapping pictures of them with her phone. “Would you like a complimentary magnet of Dead’s bull?”
“Atta girl,” Dead murmured, easing back. He winked at her—winked, like hot boys did in the movies—and then began conversing with his line again.
A few fans later, Cheyenne came up behind them and set two ice waters on the table. She leaned into Raven and whispered, “There is a money box under the table with some change. The pictures are ten bucks apiece if anyone wants to buy one for Dead to sign. The rest of the swag is free. I usually do this for all the boys, but Two Shots can’t sign tonight. Quickdraw is coming out any second, so I can handle his table if you are up for working Dead’s.”
“She ain’t workin’ it,” Dead said. “She’s gonna just have fun with me and all these lovely ladies tonight. This table is the party table. How you doin’