Quickdraw Slow Burn (Battle of the Bulls #3) - T. S. Joyce Page 0,45

against her.

He hugged her up tight and pressed his forehead into the back of her head.

Softly…so softly…he murmured, “I know exactly what I did.”

Chapter Fifteen

“Annabelle,” Quickdraw whispered in the dark, shaking her gently.

“Mmm?” she asked sleepily. Where was she?

She felt around beside her to the space where he’d been lying when she’d fallen asleep.

“Annabelle, can you wake up?” he asked again. Another shake from the other side. Oh, he was standing beside the bed, not in it. Her wolf eyes adjusted quickly as the sleep slipped away from her foggy mind.

She bolted up suddenly. “What’s wrong? What happened?”

“Nothing, nothing.” He sat on the edge of the bed and slid his big hand over her thigh, squeezed it comfortingly. “Do you want to come with me to practice?”

The closet door was a mirror so she could see the dark silhouette of herself. Her hair was sticking up like a bird’s nest.

“Oh, Lord.” She patted the mangled thing down, but it wasn’t going anywhere. It was a combination of sex hair and wet hair dried slowly over a restless night of sleep. “You’re going to practice at”—she squinted her tired eyes at the clock on the bedstand—“four o’clock in the morning?”

“It’s tradition,” he said softly. “My parents used to take me to bucking practice early in the morning. They supported me when I said I wanted to buck. Just…spent all their money building chutes and hired a trainer. My dad was out there with me every day when I was conditioning, clicking stop watches, yelling at me when I needed it. And my mom was the one who was cooking the right food to make me grow, sneaking me compliments when she saw improvement. They aren’t here anymore. My dad passed from a bad heart, and my mom passed a few months later because her heart broke. I guess love killed her. I still do an early morning session for them before events. They are always in my head the morning of—my dad yelling because he knew I could do better and my mom whispering how proud she is of me.”

Annabelle scooted closer to him and rested her head on his shoulder. “Does the whole herd go to your practices?”

“The herd doesn’t know I do this. Not on the day of. I never talked about this tradition before.”

And he was sharing it with her.

She smiled in the dark and nodded against his shoulder. “Of course, I want to come with you.”

“Good. Dress comfortable and warm. No one will be there but us.”

Quickdraw stood and turned on the bathroom light down the hall so she could see better, but her eyes had an easy adjustment. He was already dressed in Wranglers, boots, and a black sweatshirt. He looked so tall and strong and handsome.

“I’ll get coffee and breakfast ready while you get dressed,” he murmured, then leaned onto the bed and kissed her quick. “I like your hair like that. Means you had a good night.” He gave a wicked smirk and made his way into the kitchen.

Of course, he would like sex hair.

She dressed quickly in stretch pants, her comfy pair of comfy, wool-lined snow boots, a black T-shirt (because, secretly, she wanted to match Quickdraw), a hoodie, and her jacket. Her wild hair went up in a messy bun. Teeth brushed and makeup applied, she meandered out of the bathroom feeling excited and not-at-all tired anymore.

She quickly sent Raven a good morning text like they’d been doing ever since they got phones at age sixteen. Morning, MooMoo. Already up and ready for the day! Aren’t you proud of me? I didn’t sleep until noon. See you when you wake up! P.s. I’m finally ready to admit it. I have a huge crush on Quickdraw. He’s good. Send.

She shoved her phone into her back pocket and made her way out of the bathroom, then froze as a hollow feeling hit her stomach.

Her skin got clammy, and she was suddenly way too hot. Oh, God, she was going to get sick! Annabelle turned back around for the toilet, but as fast as the nausea had occurred, it was gone again. She stood there for a few moments, her hands shaking, feeling the aftereffects of that awful feeling of not being in control.

So far, she hadn’t had any morning sickness.

“Are you okay?” Quickdraw asked from behind her.

Plastering a shaky smile on her lips, she said, “Yeah. I’m good, just maybe hungry.”

The crinkle of paper sounded as he opened a paper back in his grasp,