Quickdraw Slow Burn (Battle of the Bulls #3) - T. S. Joyce Page 0,15
to have kids someday?”
“No.” There was such finality in his tone. Such an honest note. “I want Dead of Winter and Two Shots down to have little bull calves, and I’ll be the uncle who helps train them up.” He cast her a sideways glance and squeezed her thigh again. “And you dug out the other red flag on me. Now you go. What’s the red flags on you?”
Annabelle stared out the window, biting her bottom lip to stop it from trembling. What if she was? What if she was? What if she was pregnant by a man who never wanted to have children? Shit.
There was her red flag. She didn’t know yet if she was making decisions for one person or two.
She huffed a sigh and turned up the radio a little. With a forced smile for Quickdraw, she said, “I’ll think about your proposal.”
He chuckled. “Playing hard to get on those red flags, huh? Okay, I’ll enjoy it better if I get to figure out your crazy firsthand. Think about the proposition tomorrow. Tonight? Let’s just have fun. I could use some fun.”
Annabelle laughed thickly. It had been a really long month. “Me, too.”
Chapter Five
“Here, hand it to me,” Quickdraw said, holding out his hand.
“My ID?”
“Yeah, and your lip glitter and whatever other girly shit you need to bring in. I have pockets, and then you don’t have to worry about bringing in your purse and keeping up with it.”
“You would carry my lip gloss?” No man had ever offered that to her before, and she sat there utterly shocked that he would even care enough to take the burden of her purse away from her.
“Sure. Also, I’m not drinking tonight. I just want you to have a good time. I’ll get us home safe.”
The way he said home swirled up a tornado of emotions. Hope, familiarity, intimidation, and happiness all fought for the foreground. Her mind was chaos today.
“Okay. Don’t steal my identity,” she joked as she handed over her driver’s license.
“Oh, if I wanted to, I could’ve already. I know your social security number.” He gave her a wink as her face went slack and then said, “Just kidding probably.”
He wasn’t kidding. Hunter Kaid was going to get an earful from her.
Quickdraw slid her ID into his wallet and shoved her lip gloss and a piece of her favorite gum deep into his pocket for her. When she handed him a couple of twenty-dollar bills, all neatly folded, he frowned at the small wad of cash and refused to take it.
“Another rule of our arrangement… If I ask you out, I want to pay for our adventure.” His liquor-brown eyes were so earnest.
They were just friends, though, and paying for each other’s drinks and food felt like dating. She parted her lips to explain, but he stopped her.
“My parents taught me this part, and I don’t want to budge so don’t make me.”
“They taught you how to be a gentleman?”
“The traditional kind.”
Huh. She kind of liked that. So, she put her money back in her wallet and tucked her purse under one of his oversize hoodies on the floor by her feet. Then she hopped down out of the truck.
“That’s a pretty smile,” Quickdraw said softly.
He was already leaned up against the front of the truck, watching her. Annabelle quit smoothing out her flannel shirt and shifted her weight from side to side. “I really liked our conversation on the way over. And I like being here.”
Quickdraw tossed a look behind him at a bar with a neon sign in the shape of an armadillo. There was a fight happening out front. “You like being at a roughneck bar in the middle of nowhere?”
“No, I mean with you,” she said and then gave an evil grin as she uttered a nickname, “my little Cow Pie.”
“Ha!” His single laugh echoed through the raucous parking lot. “New arrangement rule—”
“Rule denied!” she sang as she looped her hand around his inner elbow. “If I consider this, I want pet names on the negotiations table.”
“A cow pie is a pile of turds.”
She beamed up at him. “But you’re a cute pile of turds.”
He ran his hand down his face, but she didn’t miss it. There was a flash of a smile. “All right, let’s go, my little honeypot.”
“Aaawww!” Dead called from down the row of cars.
“Shut your mouth hole,” Quickdraw grumbled as he led Annabelle toward the front door.
He sure looked handsome underneath the glow of the armadillo sign. His