Quickdraw Slow Burn (Battle of the Bulls #3) - T. S. Joyce Page 0,39

wasn’t wearing her comfy Ugg boots so she could feel his erection better. He groaned softly as she moved her foot slowly between his powerful thighs. It was the sexiest sound she’d ever witnessed.

As he chatted on easily with her, like the biggest buck of his life wasn’t looming tomorrow, she settled into the comfortable cadence of touching him and listening to the deep timbre of his voice. The conversation never lulled as they ate until their plates were clean, then sat for another hour by the fire, just enjoying the night together.

He was the easiest man to be around.

Plus, she was a little proud because she’d made it sixteen minutes of giving him a boner, and that was with almost no effort. He’d said she was the fun one, but she felt the exact same way about him.

“You’re loosening up around me,” he told her as he cleaned up their plates.

“It’s impossible not to,” she admitted softly. “I came here with a plan to keep my walls up, take things slow.”

“Well, I don’t like walls.”

“Surprises and walls,” she uttered softly.

“Surprises and walls,” he agreed. “And Dead.”

“I heard that!” Dead of Winter said from where he was setting up a table and camp chairs by his firepit.

“Are you copying me?” Quickdraw asked, his booming voice echoing through the park.

Dead set a pizza box in the middle of the table and lit a candle. “No.”

Annabelle pursed her lips at the utter annoyance etched into every facet of Quickdraw’s face.

“Can I borrow your lighter?” Two Shots said from his RV on the other side of Dead’s.

Sure enough, there was another folding table and camp chairs, but this one had a bucket of fried chicken on it.

“Seriously?” Quickdraw yelled to Two Shots.

Remorseless in every way, Two Shots grinned, lifted his bottle of water in a silent toast, took a swig, then caught the lighter Dead tossed to him.

“Pizza is a better aphrodisiac than fried chicken,” Dead announced conversationally to Quickdraw.

“Nope.” Quickdraw blew out the candle on the table, and offered Annabelle his hand to help her out of the chair.

“Nope, what?” Dead called.

Quickdraw kissed Annabelle quick on the head and then brushed his fingertips on her lower back to get her moving. “Nope, I’m not getting into whatever dumb argument you’re starting.”

“An occasional argument is healthy for relationships. I read it in one of them How to Keep a Woman for Dummies books.”

“We aren’t in a relationship, I ain’t a woman, and stop pretending you can read,” Quickdraw barked out as he led Annabelle to his camper.

“Look, we are having an argument right now!”

“I hope they poison me next so I don’t have to deal with your shit anymore,” Quickdraw mumbled as they rounded the corner of his RV.

“You don’t mean that!” Dead’s voice echoed through the park.

“I think he really does mean it,” Two Shots disagreed.

The second Annabelle was inside the camper, Quickdraw shut the door behind them. He stood there staring at her with his hands on his hips and a little private smile on his lips. Probably because she was giggling as quietly as she could.

“They’re not funny,” he told her in a low voice.

“They’re a little funny.”

Quickdraw shook his head, and his grin turned into that crooked, handsome-boy smile that just about did her in.

She hugged him so suddenly it surprised them both into stillness. She just stood there for a minute with her arms wrapped all tight around him, hoping and wishing and overthinking.

Hoping he bucked well tomorrow. That he would be proud of his performance. That they would be celebrating tomorrow.

Wishing she could keep him.

Overthinking the time that would soon come when she needed to tell him just how tethered he actually was to her, and to her wolf.

“Just breathe.”

Annabelle exhaled slowly and nuzzled her cheek against his chest.

He slid his arms around her. “I like these kinds of surprises,” he murmured low.

She looked up into those dark eyes of his and opened up a little more. “I like you.”

His knuckle was so soft against her cheek, like a butterfly brushing its wing against her skin.

“I really like you, too.”

Chapter Thirteen

He couldn’t take his eyes off her. Did she notice? She was a watcher like he was a watcher, but did she notice?

God, she was so beautiful. All happy, open, and that pretty smile painted on her face all night. She was glowing tonight. Annabelle wasn’t tense and uncertain like she’d been when he’d picked her up from the airport. This was the woman he remembered, the