his hand resting easily on her thigh or holding her hand.
He had a great on-pitch baritone voice that she loved listening to. And plus, he sang with a smile on his lips, so she got a little awed when he sang along with the radio. She wasn’t much of a singer herself, but she liked seeing all the different layers and hidden talents Dead possessed and the world didn’t even know about. Just her.
This felt…right.
If someone looked at them, the cowboy and the tattooed rocker, perhaps Raven and Dead didn’t look like a match. But they were in surprising ways. She’d never felt so at-ease, or like she knew someone so well so soon. It was her tendency to open up slowly. Painfully slowly sometimes, and it had always made it difficult to make new friends or hold relationships.
That had been a source of insecurity, but maybe, just maybe, she’d been waiting for someone like Dead to come and open her up.
No, it didn’t matter what they looked like or what people thought of them.
They matched just fine.
Chapter Fourteen
Lubbock, Texas. There wasn’t a lot here for the casual tourist, but the rodeo arena was a sight to see.
Why was Raven so nervous?
Raven wrung her hands and paced near the viewing pens. Dead had changed, and crowds of people were drifting around looking at the bulls.
“I don’t really like this part either,” Cheyenne said from beside her.
“Yeah, my animal would break down all those fences and ruin everyone’s life.”
Two Shots’ huge white bull slammed his head against the gate when a couple of riders got too close.
“Hey!” Cheyenne yelled, charging them. “Get away from him.”
“We didn’t even do anything,” one of them said, but the cruelness in his eyes said that was a lie.
“Whatever you’re saying to him, fuck off.” Cheyenne shoved one of them hard, and he threw up his arms in surrender. He walked away slowly, muttering a whole string of somethings that pissed Raven off.
“Jackasses,” Cheyenne muttered as she posted up in front of her mate’s pen.
Dead was in the biggest pen, trotting back and forth along the back fence, clearly agitated. He hated humans so much.
“Everyone start clearing out and find your seats!” one of the handlers announced.
This was a humongous arena, even bigger than the last one. The dirt arena was surrounded by fencing covered in brightly colored sponsor signs. The fencing was all burgundy to match the rows of seats that encircled the arena. There was a small chute on one side that Cheyenne had explained was for the roping events, and on this side were six bucking chutes.
Workers and organizers, riders, announcers, and fans were all buzzing around like bees. Back behind the chutes, where the crowd couldn’t see, was where they were now. There were tons of pens stretching as far as she could see, and a maze of alleyways and swinging gates. Everything and everyone had a purpose here, and it was running like a well-oiled machine. She mostly stayed out of the way and invisible—her comfort zone.
“My hat’s not on backwards, is it?” she asked Cheyenne.
Cheyenne stopped glaring at a group of riders walking past long enough to check her out. “Nope, it’s on just right.”
“First bull is hitting the alley!” a handler called, and any stragglers hustled out of the narrow space that led back to a row of changing rooms. Each bull shifter had their own.
Raven climbed up the fence with Cheyenne and watched as Quickdraw trotted past. He veered off at the last second and slammed his horns into a fence the riders were sitting on top of.
Raven giggled and so did Cheyenne. “There’s a hundred percent chance he finds those idiots before he bucks and fights them. He acts tough, but he’s protective of Dead and Two Shots.”
Four more monstrous bulls trotted by, one at a time, each being herded into separate rooms and the doors closed behind them.
Dead was next, and Raven didn’t even think about it. She just jumped down to go with him as his massive black and white bull came charging out of his pen and into the alley.
“Lady!” a handler yelled. “Get out of there!”
For a second, his concern scared her, but Dead slowed to a trot as he approached, and then to a walk as he made his way beside her.
“He hates humans,” Raven called over her shoulder. “I’m not that.”
“Yeeeaaah!” Cheyenne yelled, and then a shrill whistle sounded.
Okay, she’d really just owned what she was.
“Are you Hagan’s Lace,” a barrel