Dead of Winter (Battle of the Bulls #2) - T. S. Joyce Page 0,12
your horns down. What do you measure at?”
“Uhhh…that’s personal.”
“Fuck personal, be proud of your animal. I know you have the measurements. How big?”
She swallowed hard, but her answer still barely came out of her tightening vocal cords. “Ninety-six inches.”
A slow, proud smile stretched his face. “Ninety-six. Inch. Horn spread. Never forget who you are, Raven. And don’t let mouthy humans forget it either.”
Chapter Five
“I like this way better than a mansion,” Raven said as she stared at the huge camper sitting in an RV park just outside the arena.
“It’s new. This is my first trip with it. Cheyenne has us flying to events, but this one was close enough to haul our campers to. Quickdraw’s is over there.” He pointed to a big black camper attached to a huge black truck. “And that one over there is Two Shot and Cheyenne’s. They bought theirs when I bought mine. They seem to like it. It’s better than hotels. I always feel trapped in a hotel.”
“Because of the small space?” she asked, taking his offered hand as she climbed the three steps to the door he held open on his camper.
“Just too many humans. I feel like a sardine, crammed in with all them. I’m staying at Two Shot’s ranch for a while, though, and Quickdraw had a camper, so I decided to look into them. Bought this last week and named him Big Daddy.”
She giggled. “Perfect name. Ooooh, this is nice!” Inside to the right was a bedroom up a few stairs, and straight ahead, there was a small kitchen complete with granite countertops and a little stove and microwave and stainless-steel sink. To the left, there was a good-sized TV across from a leather couch, and even a little dining table. On the back wall of the camper was a bunkbed with mattresses and fancy comforters. This thing was nice!
“It’s thirty-two feet long. Two feet bigger than Quickdraw’s,” he said with his lips twisted into a cocky smirk.
“Your knuckles are already healing,” she pointed out as she looked at his hand resting on the edge of the dining table.
“Yeah, by morning there will be no evidence of a fight.”
“Wow, I don’t heal that fast!”
“I eat a lot of steaks.”
Her eyes went so round they dried out almost instantly. “You eat cow?”
Dead waggled his eyebrows. “I can eat cow whenever you want.”
She snickered and crossed her arms over her chest. “Okay, Mr. Famous Bull Shifter. What are you cooking me?”
“You aren’t as shy as I thought.”
Scrunching up her face, she said, “Being shy is annoying sometimes.”
“Yeah, but you’re fine in small groups. Just not in crowds. And who likes big crowds anyway? I don’t.”
“You’re just being nice so I don’t feel so bad,” she murmured, dropping her gaze to the nice wood flooring. “This thing must’ve been very expensive.”
“It’s half paid off so my monthly payment isn’t bad. I used my winnings from the last event on it. Figured it was a good investment.”
“I’d say.”
“Chicken.”
“I’m not a chicken,” she said.
“No, I mean I’m making you chicken tonight.” He opened a fridge door and pulled out a package of chicken legs and a bag of zucchini.
“It’s so crazy that you can cook in here,” she murmured, in awe of what all this little home could do.
“Of course, but I’ll probably never use that stove,” he said, pointing to it with a pair of tongs. “I have a grill outside. Want to grab us a couple drinks? I’ll go turn on the fire.”
“Okay,” she said and made her way to the fridge. She grabbed a couple of canned orange sodas and then washed her hands in the little kitchen sink. There were three sharp knifes attached to a strip of strong magnet on the wall above the sink, so she went to work, washing and cutting up the zucchini into spears.
“You don’t have to do that,” Dead said as he came back inside. “I’ll cook for you. Go sit on down and relax.”
“I like cooking. Plus, we’re a pretty good team, as was super-evident from our work at the signing table tonight. I’ve never seen anything like that.”
“Yeah, well, usually I fuck it up a little more thoroughly. I was showing off for you a little.”
She laughed and set a few veggie spears into a glass bowl he pulled out from under the sink. “Do you always try to destroy everything?” she asked.
“Yep. It’s in our nature.”
“Not mine. I try to fix everything.”
He didn’t respond, so she turned to see if he’d grown