Page 46 of Hung Up (Shadow Ridge #1)
BILLINGS
maybe I am the jealous type
“I still can’t believe she made you an extra roasted chicken, packed you fresh fruit and vegetables from the garden, and made you two apple pies to bring home.
” I glance in my rearview mirror at the cooler in my backseat before glancing at Faith, who lounges in the passenger seat of my blue pickup truck, her white boot-clad feet kicked up onto my dashboard.
“I’m lucky if I get leftovers from dinner to take home. ”
“She just likes me more,” she teases, giving me a wink as she tucks her cell phone back into her purse. “I think she wanted to have three girls.”
I scoff lightly, my attention back on the road. “My sisters made me play dress up so much when I was little, I practically was a girl.”
Faith bursts out laughing, her head tipping back, and the sound brings a smile to my face.
I’d make that sound my ringtone if it wouldn’t be extremely creepy for everyone else to hear.
Before I can comment on it or compliment her—which I’m sure she’s sick and tired of hearing by now—she reaches forward and turns up the radio.
“I love this song,” she states, Friends In Low Places filling the car. She starts to sing, and her voice takes me by surprise. I’m no expert by any means, but it’s fairly obvious to know if someone is a good or a bad singer, and Faith? She could be on the radio. I know I’d listen to her.
“Why didn’t you tell me you could sing like that?”
She blushes, the words trailing off her lips as she tucks a piece of hair behind her ear. “I don’t know. Not exactly something one goes around broadcasting. If you do, you’re generally asked to sing to prove it, and that’s not something I ever feel like doing.”
“Next time Stetson grumbles about me not doing karaoke with him, I’m volunteering you.” Her eyes widen. “Sorry, Sweetheart. It’d make me extremely happy for someone to humble the shit out of him.”
“Now I kind of want to hear him sing,” she chuckles, resting her head against the seat and tilting her chin down to look at me. “What about you? Can you sing?”
“Not well,” I tell her, and she bites her lip as the corners tip up. “Nope, not happening.”
She sticks out her bottom lip in such a cute pout that any man would cave. “Please?”
Once the chorus starts to play, I sing along, looking over to see her beaming as she starts to sing along.
It’s such a simple, normal interaction that I suddenly get another flash of doing this with her for the rest of my life.
Singing in the car with Faith as we travel sounds like a dream come true.
Half an hour later, we pull up to the arena, laughing about our rendition of Man!
I Feel Like A Woman as we climb out of the car.
It’s not until she steps in sync beside me with her purse and work bag over her shoulder that I look up to see Kai, Stetson, Lee, and Bryce standing at the entrance, staring at us with wide eyes.
Faith waves as we approach, giving them a smile.
“Boys,” she says, patting Kai on the arm before giving me a wink. “I’ll see you in there.”
Watching her walk away—her jean-cladded hips swinging, her perfect round ass on display—I can’t help but stare, amazed that this is the same girl I met in Sacramento who wore a pantsuit and heels for three weeks.
She’s come a long way, and I like to think I’m partly to thank for that.
Or blame, depending on how you want to look at it.
“Did you guys see what I just saw?” Stetson asks, looking at the other three with raised brows. “Have I stepped into some alternate universe?”
“What are you talking about?”
I walk past them, heading toward the entrance with them hot on my heels. It’s Lee who says, “I thought you two hated each other. And now you’re rolling up together? I thought you went back to Aspen Creek.”
“I did.”
“Did she stay with you?” Bryce ponders, appearing beside me as we walk shoulder to shoulder down the hallway toward the locker room. “Or did you pick her up at the hotel?”
I’m about to be honest, tell them that she has been staying with me back at home for the last three days now, but I’m not sure if that’d upset Faith. With how much progress we’ve made, upsetting her is the last thing I want to do. I don’t want any more setbacks.
“It’s none of your business.” They all grumble, asking questions over one another, so I don’t hear any of them.
Once I see the door to the locker room, I stop and turn to face them.
“How about instead of worrying about what I’m doing in my personal life, you focus on your rides for tonight.
Your scores could use some improvement.”
“Yours could, too,” Stetson mumbles, attempting to push past me.
I slap my hand down on his shoulder, giving him a little shake. “Exactly. Heads in the game, yeah? We can’t let Wonder Boy feel too comfortable up there in first place, can we?”
“Oh, no, no.” Kai pushes open the door and walks inside. “Please, keep talking about this. I’m quite happy where I am.”
“Not a chance, Casey. It’s four against one. Game on.”
Stetson informed me that Rylie and the girls had gone ahead to the bar after the event ended without us which bummed me out a little.
I had planned on swooping her up and taking her back to Aspen Creek, laying her on my bed, and claiming my reward for my first perfect ride since my injury.
But no, instead I have to watch her from afar and keep my hands to myself so no one gets suspicious.
To say I’m getting tired of not being able to act around her in public like I want to is an understatement. But I respect her too much to act on my impulses, even if not doing so ends up killing me.
The bar is packed when we step through the doors, and we’re greeted with loud cheers from the people near the door as they spot us before the entire bar joins in.
It takes a while to push through the crowd, shaking hands and saying thank you when people say they are fans, watched us ride, and are commenting on our scores.
It’s something I used to love once, but now it’s getting a little old.
Being recognized by everyone isn’t all it’s cracked up to be.
When we finally reach the bar, Stetson spots Rylie immediately and steps up to her, wrapping his arms around her midsection from behind. She looks ready to punch him until she turns her head and realizes it’s him. Relaxing into his hold, he presses a kiss to her cheek before her gaze falls on me.
“Great ride tonight, Hayes. How does it feel being back in the top five?” She’s grinning, genuinely happy for me, which makes me smile in response.
“Like I never left.” She chuckles before Stetson whispers something in her ear that makes her blush. “Where’s Faith?”
A group in the back starts cheering loudly, drowning out whatever Rylie says.
She tips her head back, gesturing toward the dance floor when I give her a confused look.
Turning, my eyes scan the area, looking for either a head of blonde curls or her bright red shirt she wore for the night.
And when I find her, about thirty scenarios run through my mind in rapid succession.
Because there’s Faith, with her arms wrapped around some guy's neck, with his hands resting on her hips.
I could walk up and punch him for touching what’s mine, but that would just result in a media spectacle that Henry would kill me for, Faith being mad at me, and a potential lawsuit.
My second option is stepping in, telling him she’s taken, and claiming the dance for myself.
That could lead to her being mad at me, but at least there’s no other potential dangerous outcome.
The third option is to do nothing, but that will only drive me mad.
Huh, maybe I am the jealous type. Okay, nope. Option two it is.
I’m walking onto the dance floor before I can talk myself out of it, heading straight for them. He’s about my height but more scrawny, wearing a tan cowboy hat paired with wide-rimmed glasses. Like most of the other men in this room, he’s wearing a plain tee, dark jeans, and boots.
I don’t get why she’s dancing with him. It’s not like he’s special.
I will ignore the fact that I am also wearing a plain tee, dark jeans, boots, and a hat. It’s not the same.
Finally cutting through the crowd and appearing next to them, Faith senses me immediately and looks up, a small smile toying on her lips.
Fuck, did she plan this? Did she do this on purpose?
The man, seeing where her attention has drifted, looks at me with no confusion, malice, or displeasure.
Instead, he simply nods, takes his hands off her hips, and saunters away.
I step in where he left, resting one hand on the small of her back and lacing my fingers through her other hand, pulling her flush against me.
She’s trying to hide her smile and look strict and upset with me, but she can’t seem to plaster a neutral expression on her face to save her life. It’s adorable.
“You just couldn’t stay away, could you?”
“From you?” I grin. “Never.”
She hums, tilting her head to the side. “What part of this is keeping us a secret?”
“It’s just a dance, Sweetheart. Don’t read too much into it.”
“Just a dance, huh?” Faith bites her lip, moving her head closer to mine so our noses are almost touching. “If you say so, Pretty Boy.” She glances around before giving me a dubious expression. “I thought you cowboys were good dancers. We’re not even moving.”
I take a step back, walking her through a small box step that everyone else is doing. She catches on easily, not even having to look at her feet, and I get a sneaky suspicion that she might’ve been practicing. And if that’s true? Lord help me. I’ll really, really be in trouble.
Twirling her in a circle, she stumbles back into me with a laugh, one hand resting on my chest as she shakes her head before reconnecting our gazes.
Her expression falls, her eyes flicking to my lips before she looks up.
It takes everything within me not to say fuck it and kiss her in front of all these people with the heated, hungry look she’s suddenly giving me.
Before either of us can do something we might regret, the crowd in the back starts cheering again, drawing our attention.
When I focus back on Faith, she’s practically giddy.
Grabbing my hand, she drags me behind her and leads me through the crowd, clearly knowing something I don’t.
Once we break through and she yanks me forward, I finally understand why.
This bar has a mechanical bull.
“Okay, Pretty Boy. Show me how it’s done.”
I laugh, shaking my head. “I’m fairly certain there’s some law against actual bull riders riding mechanical bulls.”
“Or you’re just afraid that it’s going to be harder than those bulls you ride for a living.” I give her an incredulous look, which makes her shoulders fall slightly. “You’re no fun.”
“I’m plenty fun, Sweetheart.” I bend down, my lips ghosting over her ear. “Or do I need to remind you?”
I can see the blush on her cheek and the flush on her neck, goosebumps prickling over her skin as she shivers slightly. Turning her head toward mine, our noses brush against one another before she pulls back a fraction to look me in the eye. “And how would you do that, exactly?”
A large smile grows on my face, and her eyes flash in anticipation. But instead of going into very graphic detail about all the things I would do to her—like I know she wants me to—I tell her, “Ride the bull if you want to find out.”