Page 21 of Wild and Unruly (Three Rivers Trevors Ranch #3)

stetson

“You didn’t have to make me dinner just because I agreed to rope with you,” Bonnie says, perched on the small stools that came with my apartment. I can hardly fit in them, so they rarely get used.

A light feeling passes through my chest seeing her sitting there and smiling at me, and I turn around to grab the food I purchased out of the fridge.

It was the Monday after the rodeo, and after work, I rushed to the store to fill the fridge to make it look like I don’t live off of macaroni and cheese and apples.

I also had to call my sister-in-law for a recipe since I wasn’t much of a cook, and my mom would have had way too many questions for me.

Thankfully, Thea recommended I grab the premade chicken fajitas the store offered to “keep me from burning my apartment down.”

I just love the faith she has in me.

“I’m not,” I reply, heating up the skillet on the stove and smiling at her.

I love the sight of her sitting in my space, feeling comfortable.

“I wanted to have some dinner with you,” and dessert , I add silently.

No need to show all my cards right up front.

“Thought it would be nice to do it comfortably instead of out in public for the world to see.”

Bonnie reaches for the water I just handed her a few moments ago and smirks over the rim. “Have some not-so-publicly decent ideas in mind, do ya?”

I break into a grin, dumping the mixture into the sizzling pan and letting it heat up while I grab the tortillas and other toppings. “See,”—I point from myself to her with the spatula—“it’s like you can read my mind.”

She smiles softly, her cheeks turning a shade of pink that nearly matches her lips, and she shakes her head at me. “I actually had a lot of fun this weekend.”

“This weekend was fucking awesome.” I turn to grab more things out of the fridge, wishing I was more skilled in the kitchen so I could show off.

Whenever I was around this woman, I felt myself wishing I could be more, do more, show off more. I want her to think that I am something special. I guess that was because whenever I saw her and talked with her, when I saw her ride or even working, I thought she was an incredible person.

She sips her water and leans into a hand. “I’ll be honest, I was a little nervous at first.” Bonnie bites her lip and says, “It’s been a long time since I’ve ridden so much, but even longer since I did any kind of roping.”

“You wouldn’t have believed it watching you.” After the rodeo and our time in the trailer after, it had been hard to let go of her, so I invited her to stay the night.

Unfortunately, she had work to do yesterday and had sadly declined. But I hadn’t wanted to let her go. Not after everything we did together. She was fucking amazing.

Not only in the trailer, where she let me take control and gave me one of the best days of my life, but showing too. She killed it for being so out of practice.

I was eager to see what we could do if we were practicing all week.

“Well, I guess there’s some muscle memory there,” she says, her eyes on my hands as I work to make dinner. “You sure you don’t need help?”

I shake my head. “Nah, I got it. Relax,” I tell her, stirring the mixture in the pan. “I’m excited to see what we can do after we practice some more.”

She’s silent for a moment, and when I look up, I see her staring at me with a hint of a smile. “What?” I ask, moving around the kitchen.

Bonnie sighs. “Nothing, I guess.” Her pause has me turning to look at her. She has both hands resting around her water glass, one finger tracing the condensation that falls. “I wasn’t sure if you’d want to continue roping with me or if I was just a fill-in?”

I can feel the way my lips morph into a frown, and I turn the heat all the way down before looking at her. “What do you mean?”

“It’s just…I’m leaving.” Her words bring a halt to my action. My body freezes from her words. She was leaving. I’ve known this the entire time I’ve pursued her. Yet, the words have my heart hammering in my chest.

“Okay.” I nod, thinking over my words. The last thing I want is to make her feel bad because she has to continue living the life she has been. It’s not like she can just drop everything because I’ve fallen for her.

“You’re not mad?” The way her hands tighten on her glass makes me snap out of it. She has nothing to worry about, nothing to apologize for.

“The way I see it is, for as long as you’re here, and longer if you want to, we’ll be a team.

” I try to keep the conversation on the team roping, but my mind shows me an image of us in that bed, her gaze looking down on me as she swayed on top of my body.

“And…when you go back, we’ll do our best to see each other whenever we can. ”

Her eyes hit mine in surprise. “You’d want to do that?”

Do I want a long-distance relationship? No, not really. But do I want to keep seeing her for as long as possible, if not forever? Absolutely.

I pull the pan all the way off the heat and circle the island, turning her on the stool to face me and grasping her hips. “Yeah, I want to do that.”

Her lips tip up into a smile, and dammit, she’s so fucking beautiful that I can’t help but take her lips with my own.

I was falling for this woman and falling hard .

I wasn’t going to be able to stop the way my heart jumped in my chest whenever she was near.

Nor did I want it to. She was important.

She was a piece of my life’s puzzle that was missing.

Fuck, that’s cheesy. But it’s real.

A ringing sounds from her purse on my couch, and we pull away. I tap her hip. “Check that out. I’m going to finish our dinner.”

She nods and slides off the stool, heading over to her purse and sighing loudly when she looks at the screen .

“It’s my mom. I need to take this.” She holds up her phone, and I nod, waving her off while I focus on the task at hand.

But my apartment is small and there’s no real way to give her complete privacy, so I listen to parts of her conversation.

“He’s okay, though?” she asks, her tone indicating that she’s exhausted with whatever conversation she’s having. “If he’d come here, there may be a solu—” She cuts off, and I look over at her to see her resting on the arm of the couch, her head bent as she listens.

“Mom, he needs to leave the apartment. Sitting there won’t do him any good.”

I hate this for her. It clearly stresses her out, and I can only imagine the trauma her brother has faced. You can only help those who want to be helped, but when it affects other people, when it tears their hearts out because they have to sit and watch those they love suffer, it’s not fair.

At what point do you pull yourself out of the situation when the person you love won’t get the help they need?

I stay silent, listening to her argue with her mother. It sounds like they both agree but aren’t sure how to convince her brother to move forward.

Finally, I have dinner made, and I hear Bonnie say, “Mom, Stetson just finished dinner. Can I call you in the morning?”

I blink in surprise, not realizing that she told her mom who I was. Hell, I haven’t even told my mom I was officially dating her. Didi Cash already knew, I’m sure of it, but I’ve been able to hide out from her enough that she hasn’t hounded me yet.

“Sorry.” Bonnie retakes her seat, taking a sip of her water.

“You’re fine, baby. I just got everything ready. Want to sit at the table or patio? ”

Bonnie looks between the two. “Let’s stay inside. I don’t need more mosquito bites.” She chuckles, and I nod.

Note to self: Get mosquito repellent.

We settle in, each with our plates filled with food, mine with about twice as much, and for a few moments, we eat in comfortable silence. Bonnie clearly has something on her mind, and if I had to bet, I would say it has to do with her brother. “You all right?”

Bonnie looks up, blinking back into the moment, and I realize that she was zoned out. “Sorry, my mind is just elsewhere.” She shakes her head. “I’m here, I promise.”

“That’s all right. You wanna talk about it?”

“You don’t want to talk about my family.” She laughs lightly, taking a bite of food and tucking a piece of hair behind her ear.

I shrug and give her a serious look. “Bo, if it’s something bothering you, I want to talk about it. This isn’t just a fling for me. I thought I just established that.” I gesture to the kitchen, referencing the conversation we just had.

“I know, it just,” she sighs, wetting her lips. “It always brings down the mood.”

I nod my head, focusing on my food or pretending to when really all of my attention is on her. “I get that. But I’m here for you to talk to. I guess you could call me a non-biased listener.” Sort of non-biased. I’m pretty sure no matter what happens, I would side with Bonnie.

“Well, he’s lost his job, you know.” I nod and wait patiently.

“Ever since that, I guess he’s gotten even more moody, lashing out at Mom more.

” Her hands pause over her food, and I let her gather her thoughts.

“I hate that I’m not there, but at the same time, he’s not listening. He doesn’t want help. ”

“That’s hard,” I say, taking a sip of my water. “Does he want to get back to horses?”

She shakes her head. “Not really. I mean, he says he doesn’t.

He blames horses, which I understand.” I nod, agreeing.

“But he was obsessed. I mean, worse than me. He would be up with the sun to ride his horse. In high school, he’d ride before school and be at the barn after to work for—” She pauses, clearing her throat.

“Anyway, he was addicted to it. Then, it was yanked away from him without a thought. Not only that, but he’s also now unable to move freely and has to live in a wheelchair. ”

“I can’t imagine what you all have been through,” I start, reaching over and taking her hand. “It’s been a huge adjustment, a huge life change.”

She shakes her head, accepting my hand but shrugging. “It’s been years. We should be adjusted by now.”

“Who says there’s a set timeline on that kind of thing? Especially if your brother is not moving forward, holding you and your mom back.”

“I wouldn’t say ‘holding us back,’” she starts, and I keep my mouth shut. It’s hard to put to words how I’m feeling, but the fact that she’s still dealing with his injury, that she was still carrying this burden on her shoulders, tells me that it was doing exactly that.

“It’s just been something we’ve been dealing with, something that changed everything.

” Her eyes move from mine, and she shakes her head.

“My parents separated soon after. My dad was against us looking into the accident deeper, saying it was a fluke and not worth looking at. He left, though, took off with someone half his age, and moved to Florida.”

“Florida deserves him.”

She chuckles but continues. “Mom threw herself back into church, something she missed out a lot on because my dad wasn’t very religious.

And Mason was in physical therapy, trying to make the best of everything.

At first, he was good. He was hopeful and positive.

But then the doctors said things like ‘never walk again,’ and all that hope left him.

He and his longtime girlfriend broke up because he was being so bitter. He just couldn’t move past it.”

Bonnie shakes her head, her eyes distant in memory.

“I don’t blame her. Daphne deserved better.

He was always picking fights with her and making her life miserable.

He didn’t deserve to have her around for all his temper tantrums.” Bonnie sighs, settling against her chair, her hand still in mine.

“After Daph left, his mood spiraled worse. He and Mom found an accessible apartment and moved in. He finally got off his ass and got a job, only to help Mom afford bills.”

“And what about you?” I ask, squeezing her fingers.

“What about me?”

I shake my head. “I mean, what did you do? You gave up your dream, stopped showing, and now you’re an incredible writer.”

“I don’t know about incredible.”

“I do. I’ve read your work. You have talent.”

Her gaze softens, and her hand squeezes mine tenderly.

“Well, I was already in school when the accident happened, so I just kept going. I got a degree in creative writing and journalism, which didn’t prepare me at all for a real job, but I had it anyway.

Then I got a few odd jobs before landing the one at the magazine. ” She shrugs. “The rest is history.”

I stare at her in shock and amazement. “You don’t give yourself enough credit. You’ve pulled yourself out of the trenches and made a great name for yourself, and you just make it sound like you bag groceries.”

“Bagging groceries is an honorable job,” she says, giving a little wiggle of her eyebrow.

“Don’t belittle what you’ve done, Bo. You’re fucking amazing.”

“I think you just want in my pants,” she blurts, a blush following her cute comment.

“Well, considering I’ve already been in your fine-ass pants—pun intended—I think it’s safe to assume I’m being real here.”

Her expression turns more serious, and she gives me a soft grin. “Thank you, Stets. I appreciate it.”

“I mean it.” I squeeze her fingers. “Now, finish up dinner because I have dessert ready to go.”

“I figured dessert was you,” she teases, wiggling her brows.

I sit back in my chair, satisfaction in my expression. “I love that you can read my mind.”