Quickdraw Slow Burn (Battle of the Bulls #3) - T. S. Joyce Page 0,42

understanding and she rested her cheek against his thigh, stared at the television again. “After I was changed, I wished I was still human, too. It’s why I took Filsa. Why I know what it is, and how it feels.”

Oh, he could tell by her careful tone she had never talked about this with anyone before. “You took it because you like to be in control?”

“I took it when I was a teenager about to go to college because I wanted to be normal. Live in a dorm with a human roommate, get up early for classes, drink coffee in a shop where no one would notice my eyes changing colors or the growl in my throat. Study groups, nights out, finals, the works. I was on it for the entirety of my freshmen year in college.”

“And did it work?”

“It put the animal to sleep. But made me sick. And sad. Made me feel empty and alone and like I couldn’t relate to people because I was purposefully taking a drug that made me into something different just to impress people I didn’t really care about. I started taking it because I was afraid of an uncertain future, but I stopped taking it because, with it, I had no future.”

“Jesus,” Quickdraw murmured, setting the brush on the couch cushion beside him. He pulled her back and wrapped his arms around her chest, dropped his lips to her shoulder and just swayed her back and forth. Gently, because she deserved a reward for sharing an important part of her story with him. “Is that why you got protective of the bulls that were poisoned with it last month?”

“Yeah. They’d already chosen their futures. They were doing well in a career they loved, and someone tried to take that from them. And the sickness, the emptiness that comes with using it, can make a shifter so vulnerable. I didn’t want anyone to hurt them when they were vulnerable. I wanted them to be okay.”

“Come here,” he murmured. As much as he wanted to sit here holding her like this, smelling her skin and mango-scented shampoo, she was getting goosebumps on her arms. Now, he didn’t know if it was a chill from talking about things she normally kept private, or if she was cold, but either way, he had to fix it.

She crawled up on the couch. He set a pillow on his lap, lifted a blanket over her, and relaxed back into the couch, his hand on her neck, so he could not only touch her but feel her pulse slow down.

“Will you tell me the things you see from the rider tape?” she asked.

“It’s pretty boring.”

“So? You love what you do. You’re passionate about bucking. Teach me.”

This was the part he’d desperately wanted from his marriage, but Maren had only been interested in the attention, not the reasons behind his drive.

As he sat there and pointed out every time Brandon got off balance and what caused it, every bad habit that cost Brandon those eight second rides, she listened. He could tell because her eyes were trained on the television, and she asked every right question.

And in this moment, with her lying on his lap, all curled up under his blanket beside him, happy to ask the questions he was happy to answer, he did something he swore to himself he would never do again.

He gave his heart to a woman.

Chapter Fourteen

She would never forget tonight, cuddled here with both her boys. It would never happen again, and she was well aware. The future be hanged, though. If all she had was tonight, she was going to soak up every second.

She didn’t know why she’d come out here in a towel when she’d had his comfy T-shirt to dress in after the shower. Probably because the little ho in her figured a towel was easy access—no panties required. Or maybe it had been to watch the transformation on his face when she’d come out of the bathroom.

“What’s the plan?” she asked, sitting up. They’d just watched Brandon’s last buck, and it was frozen on him standing on a gate, his hands up as he yelled in triumph to the crowd. He’d ridden the full eight seconds for the last three events.

“He’s on a streak, and it gives him fuel. Gives him confidence. Tight spins won’t do it. That’s his comfort zone. I’ve gotta rattle him while we’re in the chute. Maybe let him get his hand all settled in the