Page 43 of The Brave and the Reckless (Bravetown #1)

“I’m not,” she rasped, voice dangerously clogged. “It was just worse because it was teenagers. Teens are scary, man. I didn’t even get them when I was a teenager.”

“As someone who did a lot of fucked-up shit as a teenager, I can promise you that none of that was about you today.”

“You? Fucked up? Like, you ate your dessert before the main course?” She snickered.

“Hmm…” I brushed my lips over hers. “I stole a cow once.”

“A cow? Like, from a farm?”

“No, that’s what made it so funny. Mr. Wilkens had her in his backyard.

She was some pageant cow. Had won prizes for the shiniest coat or something.

But she was stuck all alone in his tiny backyard, so I got her out of there and set her free to roam in the high school’s football field.

She frolicked around the whole weekend before anyone noticed. ”

“Are you making this up to make me feel better?”

“They couldn’t calm her down enough to herd her out of there. By the time they got someone down from the cattle ranch, she’d completely ruined the grass. I cost the school a whole season of football games.”

“How did you get her in the stadium in the first place?”

“Put a rope around her neck one night and walked by her side from Mr. Wilkens’ to the school. No problem. She clearly knew that I was leading her to greener grass.”

Esra let out a quiet little giggle, more breath than sound against my collar bone. “If that wasn’t about the cow or Mr. Wilkens, why did you do it?”

“Because I could. My mother was dying and my father was on a bender, and everyone knew. They let me get away with anything. I just wanted someone to give a shit.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be. I’m just telling you because teenagers aren’t scary. They do dumb things to deal with their own issues.”

“I give a shit,” she whispered and nestled against my chest, quiet for a few moments while drawing slow patterns across my stomach. “Can’t believe I’m sleeping with a real-life cowboy.”

Saving horses. There was a joke about how she was saving horses in there.

My mind stumbled over itself as it tried to come up with the wording, still blanking by the time her breathing evened out and her hands stilled.

Maybe I was wound too tight. After years of holding it together, I wasn’t sure if I was even able to unwind.

Maybe the part of me that was supposed to be fun and carefree had rusted into a rigid, unmovable thing.

I lay awake for a while and stared at the ceiling because somehow Esra had turned me into a man agitating over coming up with “save a horse, ride a cowboy ” jokes just to hear her tired little giggle again.

It was irrational. I was fully aware of that.

If I hadn’t been, the two dozen people trailing me across the park would have been a dead giveaway.

Anna and CJ had shot me panicked looks. They had protocols on how they should handle guests going rogue– not cast members.

There were very specific schedules and routes mapped out for the character meet and greets, but my rationale was gone after last night.

I was back to the caveman instincts that told me to protect Esra from the storm.

The storm just took the form of shitposting teenagers now.

“Excuse me, miss?” I drawled in Ace Ryder’s voice as I walked up behind Esra just as she finished taking pictures with a little girl in a matching Annie Lou costume.

Esra turned, eyes wide. Her gaze raked over me, those full lips falling open.

I had the bandana around my neck, but I was in the full-length duster that I only threw on for photographs, that she usually didn’t get to see.

So, yeah, okay, the costume still did it for her.

We’d have to do something with that at some point.

“Me?” she asked, blinking rapidly as she caught herself .

I saw the phones going up and noted the people behind me falling quiet, but I kept my sole focus on Esra as I slightly tipped my hat. “Yes, miss, please excuse me for being so forward, but you look like your daddy’s got money.”

Esra’s cheek twitched but she kept her expression schooled in the perfectly polite Annie Lou smile.

“Don’t tell him!” A little girl in pink sparkly cowgirl boots raced around me and waved her hands in front of Esra. “He’s the bad guy!”

“A bad guy?” Esra feigned surprise. “I don’t know about that. He said, ‘please excuse me’. Those are some very good manners. Sir, would you please tell this young lady that you have no bad intentions.”

“I suppose that depends on your definition of bad , miss. I do enjoy being a little bad every now and then, just like everyone else.”

“Annie, that’s Ace Ryder!” The girl tugged on Esra’s sleeve, only for her father to scoop her up and whisper something in her ear as he pulled her back to the sideline of the little circle that had formed around us.

“Ace Ryder? Where have I heard that name before?”

“Does it matter? Surely you don’t rely on other people’s opinions,” I said, walking around her back, letting one gloved finger trail along her shoulders, “when you can form your own impression?”

All those fanfiction videos we’d been doing must have gone to my head. I was shamelessly flirting here. Esra’s eyes fluttered, and she swallowed visibly as her gaze followed my finger lift from her shoulder and touch my lips.

“I don’t mean to be rude, but I have guests waiting. They are visiting Bravetown and, as the mayor’s daughter, I really should greet them.” She vaguely gestured to the crowd, who let out some cheers at being acknowledged.

“The mayor’s daughter, you say?” I tilted my chin up and ran my hand along the bandana just to remind everyone where this whole thing was going to lead. “I would love to hear more about your father’s beautiful town. Maybe I can stay and help you greet the visitors, and you can tell me more.”

Somewhere the little girl from before shouted a heartfelt “No!”

“I’m not sure. Let me ask them.” Esra turned to the crowd with a big smile. “Would you mind if my new friend, Mr. Ryder, and I welcomed you in town together?”

Of course they cheered. They were getting a two-for-one photo opportunity. But Esra still seemed a little relieved at the positive reaction when she turned back to me and gave me a small nod.

“All right then, Mr. Ryder. You may greet them with me.”

“Please,” I said, taking her hand and bowing low to kiss her knuckles, “call me Ace.”