Quickdraw Slow Burn (Battle of the Bulls #3) - T. S. Joyce Page 0,1

out her cheeks. “I wish I knew more about rodeo and about the circuit, but I don’t even know all the players. Would the riders benefit by this?”

“Not at all. Their rank and income and notoriety depend on them being able to ride us for eight seconds. If there are no bulls to ride? They don’t get paid. They don’t keep their sponsors, they don’t keep their fans, they fade into nothing. They would be forced back into riding regular bulls but take a big pay cut and lose the attention.”

With an explosive sigh, Annabelle threw up her hands. “Well, that was my only guess. I can’t help you play detective, but I can watch over these boys until their people get here.”

“Why?” he asked earnestly. “Why even bother?”

“Because it doesn’t feel right celebrating the rodeo tonight when something this awful happened. They’re important. All shifters are.”

“Not all,” he grumbled.

She laughed. “Aaaah, you’re the dark and moody type, huh? Well, I see good in people. Everyone has some in them, and even if it’s just a tiny amount, the good is valuable.”

Quickdraw’s dark eyebrows furrowed as he studied her. “But the bad weighs heavier.”

She tucked her knees up into the chair and rested her head against the wall. “Does it?”

His frown deepened, and after a few moments, he murmured, “You’re strange.”

Annabelle smiled at him brightly. “Thank you.”

Chapter One

The plane tickets were for today at 3:10 pm.

Had she trapped him?

From the envelope, Annabelle pulled out the single ticket for the rodeo finals for the Battle of the Bulls. It was the last event of the PBSRC circuit, and it was set in Casper, Wyoming. The winner would take home a huge purse, and so far, Quickdraw was dominating the entire circuit.

He was going to be rich after this, and in her mind, that was part of the problem.

Had she accidentally trapped him?

There would be a letter. There always was. Three times, Quickdraw Slow Burn had sent her plane tickets, and two times before now, she’d ignored them. She’d ignored his texts asking if she’d gotten them, too. Even Raven, her cow shifter best friend and a member of Quickdraw’s herd, had asked why she was ignoring him.

That part, she hadn’t been able to explain. Not to anyone. Not to her parents, not to her co-workers, not to her best friend, and certainly not to Quickdraw.

She pulled out the letter with shaking fingers and read it.

Annabelle,

This is a long shot. I know it is. I ain’t asking for a date. You do what you want with your life. But since that night, I want to spend more time with you. I guess my bull does too. He always looks for you after a buck.

Please come.

Quickdraw Slow Burn

Tears prickled her eyes as she refolded the letter and settled it back into the envelope with the tickets. He had drawn her attention, too, that hospital night when they watched over some poisoned bull shifters together. It wasn’t their time at the hospital that had tethered her little heart to him, though. It was the time they’d spent in his camper before she’d left for the airport the next day. It was the way he’d touched her and the way he’d talked to her in his bed, exposing a deep vein of caring she hadn’t realized a man could possess. It was the pillow talk and the soft fingertips caressing her spine. It was gentle kisses from a man who wasn’t gentle by nature.

If she’d made a mistake, she couldn’t take it back now. Her uncertainty had ruined any chance she had with Quickdraw.

Annabelle rested her hands on her flat stomach. She was too chicken-shit to even take a test, but she felt different, and her inner wolf was acting so strange.

There was a possibility that Quickdraw had changed her entire life in one night.

When a knock sounded at the door, Annabelle nearly fell out of her seat. Her werewolf hearing usually alerted her to someone at the front door of her apartment way before they reached her porch.

Unless…

Annabelle smiled despite herself.

She stood and made her way to the door, opened it, and caught the hug of her maker. Rork was growling, but he always did that. His wolf was a little on the crazy side.

“You haven’t been answering texts,” he murmured, releasing her to push past her and into the small studio apartment. “I brought you presents.”

“You know you don’t have to bring me presents.”

His bushy gray eyebrows raised up high. “But don’t I?