Pushing the thought aside, I look over at Maverick and attempt to engage him in conversation. With any luck, I can get him to calm the fuck down long enough to have the same conversation I had with Clay already. I probably should have just called them both over when I talked to Clay, but if facing one of them is intimidating, together they're a menacing force if you're on the wrong side.
"How many Thoroughbreds is he workin' with these days?" I finally ask Maverick, using the topic as a bridge to broach the subject I hope to discuss but also because I'm genuinely interested to hear about the changes here at the Davis ranch since I've been gone--seeing as it means maybe all that time I forced myself to stay gone, without the woman I love in the process, I also kept them safe from my father and in turn gave them the time they needed to thrive.
"Got two mares of his own right now, but only one was inseminated in February. Savin' his breeder mare until he can find the right stallion to pair her with, which is why she's not pregnant right now. Just got a new stallion, Major, a few weeks ago, bringin' Clay's total count up to ten. With the retired ones he's rescued, though, he's really up in the twenties. You'd have to ask Clay about the stud end of things here and how many mares he accepted to breed earlier this year. Clay's focus is on the stallions with some of the most impressive pedigrees around, so I wouldn't be shocked if that number was up there due to the fact there's a high demand for his horse's lineage. He works his boys hard, but he's selective about how many he accepts, booked full on a few quickly so he doesn't breed them irresponsibly."
Out of the corner of my eye I see the girls look at him in shock. Hell, I'm just as shocked that he answered me--at length, moreover--and that he didn't seem to mind doing so. Maybe it's because talking shop pulls his focus off the fact that his sister's getting hot and heavy with the person he knows hurt her once. Either way, I'll keep this shit going if it means his anger is distracted.
"He's still breedin' this late in the summer?" I say, pleased as fuck when some of the harshness in his face disappears.
"Stopped in June. Now he's takin' care of his stallions, the pregnant mares, and his rescues. Doesn't get any less busy for him, but at least he's not doin' the round-the-clock matin' games."
I nod, thinking about how much work is involved in running a stud farm. I can't imagine how crazy things are here for the first six months of the year.
"Look, they're getting along," Quinn whispers to Leigh, doing a shit job of keeping her voice down. Clearly, I'm not the only one that thinks so either, because the calm expression that had taken hold of Maverick while he was explaining the breeding vanishes and his eyes narrow again.
Fuck.
Well, the reprieve was nice while it lasted, at least.
"Should have kept your big mouth shut, Q," Leigh hints, doing an equally shitty job at keeping the volume of her words down.
Maverick gives me another nasty glare, and it's the tipping point for my patience.
Fuck this.
"Look, Maverick, with all due respect, I'm not really interested in wasting more of my first date with Quinn waitin' to see who blinks first. It's my first day off since startin' at the practice and a day that was goin' pretty damn perfect until just now. It'd probably be easier on you if you'd just get whatever it is you want to say off your chest so I can move on with my mornin'. I get that you're protective of your sister, and I respect the hell outta that, but you standin' here tryin' to intimidate me isn't somethin' I would prefer dealin' with when I'd rather be spendin' my time showin' your sister that she's not gonna regret givin' us another go. In the end, it's her opinion that matters most to me."
"That so?" he asks mockingly.
I hear Quinn make a low, distressed noise, and I break eye contact with Maverick to check on her. I don't give a flying fuck if it makes me look weak to him, breaking from our staring contest of intimidation, because she means more to me than being top dog.
"What is it?" I question.
"I don't want y'all fightin'," she mumbles.
"Who said anything about fightin', Grease?"
I try to make light of it, but to be honest, I would gladly let her brother throw some punches if it made him feel better about accepting our relationship without causing her grief. In his mind, all I am is the person who broke her heart, and as her brother he's in protection mode. I can't fault him for that. It's what I expected from Clay when we talked, and I have a feeling if Maverick knew what I had told Clay already, he wouldn't be acting like this right now. I really should have gone out of my way to talk to him before now, but taking on both of the Davis brothers at the same time was the last thing on my mind. Maverick has always been a hothead too. Bottom line, I need Clay's backing if I have a chance of getting Maverick's.
Guess I should have thought twice about that one.
"If it keeps your ass from fuckin' up again, maybe that's not a bad idea."
Quinn's eyes flash with pain and she looks visibly upset at his words, and now I'm no longer content with letting him continue his macho shit in front of her.
"Outside," I fume at her brother. If his bullshit is going to make her revert back to the girl that was almost too scared to give us a go, I'm going to make damn sure this is a fight he doesn't fucking win.
"You guys," Quinn wails, but it's too late. The challenge has been issued. And no country boy worth his salt ever backs down from a challenge.
"Keep your ass inside," Maverick calls over his shoulder on the way to the door. It isn't clear which woman he's speaking to, but to be honest, I only care about one of them right now.
I let him pass, focusing on Quinn, framing her face with my hands and tipping her head up gently so she's looking at me and not her brother's departing back. "I know you don't want us to fight, baby, but I need you to trust me right now and not give me any trouble 'bout goin' out there. You have my word that I won't get physical with him, just words, Grease. As much as I hate doin' somethin' you don't want, I need to give your brother a chance to get this off his chest so he can step aside and let this happen."
She starts to shake her head, her still-wet hair falling some from the knot she's got it in on top of her head.
"Trust me," I stress.
She swallows--I feel it against the heel of my hand--and closes her eyes. I give her time, knowing that with those two words I'm asking her to do a whole lot more than just trust me to go outside and talk to her brother. If she decides she still doesn't want me to go, I won't fault her. Her trust is something I have to earn back, and I'm not stupid enough to think that can be gained in just a few days.
Then she shocks the shit out of me.
"I do." She sighs. "I do trust you, Tate. What happened between us before--that's not about lack of trust anymore, now that I know the reasons behind it. I just . . . I just got both of you back, even if he's been back for longer. The two men I've dreamt about returning to me are finally where they belong, and if this ends with me having to choose between you both . . . that thought is a killer."
"I'll never ask you to make that decision, Quinn."
"You won't have to."
We both turn when Maverick speaks, standing just inside the front door.
"Love you, Hell-raiser, but let me talk to him and stop worryin' about that shit."
"Maverick," Quinn breathes. "This is goin' to happen regardless of your talk."
"Good. Then you won't mind me havin' my say."
She exhales and I bend to kiss her temple. "Go get changed. We're headin' out as soon as I finish this."
She nods, and I turn to follow her brother outside.
He moves to the end of their long front porch, looking off toward the stables set a good distance away from their house. I can feel the unanswered questions vibrating off of him.
"Go ahead, Maverick. Say what you need to say and get it out, because I'm not going to have this shit come up again. Not when it hurts her like this."
He flinches, the most minute of movements, but I see it. He doesn't like
hurting her, so for him to force my hand means there's no way he's touched base with Clay since I talked to him. Or . . . or maybe he has and he just doesn't give a shit.
Not waiting for him to speak, I lean my ass against the rail and look through the window in front of me to see Quinn watching us. She hasn't moved from the spot I left her in, not that I expected her to actually listen to me. I push my frustration-born anger aside and give her what I hope is the face of a confident man trying to reassure the woman he doesn't want upset.
I'm rewarded with the worry fading from her face before her shoulders move as one when she sucks in a deep breath.
I blow her a kiss, not giving one shit if anyone witnesses me acting like a lovesick fool. I am, so might as well own it.
She has just enough time to return the gesture before Leigh pulls her through the house--hopefully to get changed so we can get the fuck outta here when I finish this bullshit.
"Wasn't here that last summer," Maverick says, his gravelly voice, low and edgy. "But I heard about the depression my sister went through when you stopped takin' her calls. She thought she hid that shit well from Clay, but there wasn't shit that got past him. Each time she would email you and get an 'undeliverable address' response. When her letters to your folks' house got sent back with a nasty scribble note sayin' no one lived there by that name. Each fuckin' time, I heard about it, and there wasn't shit I could do to fix it. I was fightin' my own demons, Tate, so don't think I don't get not being ready or whatever the fuck happened between you two, but if there's even one little part of you that thinks you aren't ready now, you need to end this instant."
He doesn't waste any time getting down to the point of his anger, which I'm thankful for, even if this is the last conversation I want to be having right now.
"There wasn't ever a time I wasn't fuckin' ready for her," I force through my tight jaw.
"Sure have a funny way of showin' it, runnin' off and disappearin'."
He hasn't talked to Clay, then. "I couldn't fuckin' do anything but disappear!"
With a fortifying breath, I start at the beginning and tell my tale again. By the time I finish my woe-is-me recap, Maverick's looking at me like he's seeing me for the first time. The protective-big-brother intimidation vibe that had been radiating off him snaps, vanishing instantly. The way he's looking at me now, though, is just as unnerving.
With pride. Pure fucking pride.
Just like Clay did. The two men that I feared would never understand why I dropped off the face of Quinn's world, giving me something I'm not sure I deserve without any hesitation at all.
Well, fuck me.
After a few minutes of silence, Maverick speaks. "You know why I left?"
I shake my head.
"The old man beat the shit out of me. Not just with his fists--he liked tearin' down a man's soul just as much as he liked hurtin' his body. Put up with that shit for too long, and all I ever wanted to do was ride. Found out he didn't support my ridin' because my real father was a pro my mama'd slept with on the side. But I ran because I couldn't face his shit anymore. It would have been him or me, but one of us would've fuckin' killed the other, and honest to fuckin' God, I'm not sure I woulda been able to go through with it. Took that woman in there--the one that owns my fuckin' heart like it's hers--and made sure I crushed her good enough she would have to let me go. Saw no other way and ran like a coward, not comin' back until the old man died right along with my rodeo career. And you know what?"
I cough, playing off the shock of his words. "What's that?"
"I'm not sure how long I woulda stayed gone either, if my career hadn't been shot to hell and the old man hadn't kicked it. I can tell you eventually I wouldn't have been able to resist the urge because it's fuckin' impossible to resist the kind of pull you feel when you're meant to be takin' a different path than the one you're on. Your life will always overcorrect your steps for you until you're finally on the right one."
Understanding dawning, I straighten off the porch railing and open my mouth, only Maverick beats me to it, speaking up again.
"I was wrong about you. Thought you were like me, but you're no fuckin' coward. You've been fightin' for her every step you took, even if she didn't know it. Not just her, but you fought for her family--my family--and that is somethin' I'll forever be indebted to you for. I wasn't here to do it, Clay was doin' his best, but you made sure a blow that would have crushed them all never came."
"You don't owe me shit. I did it because I love her, not for any other reason."
I'm not sure who's more shocked when the seriousness on his face vanishes, one big-ass smile, so like his sister's, taking its place a moment later, him or me.
"You love my sister?"
My own smile grows, and I'm sure if Quinn was watching now she would be about to shit herself with curiosity. "Accordin' to her, we're gettin' to know the adults we've become. You ask me, though, I'm just showin' the only woman I have ever loved and will ever love that we're the same people we've always been."
He bellows out a loud bark of laughter at that. "Reckon that's not gonna be a hardship for you, Tate."
"You aren't wrong," I confirm, my mouth still tipped up in a grin.
"I told her before she decided what to do with you that she wouldn't be able to resist the pull she'd feel. I said that based off what I remember of you two, young as fuck, fightin' your feelin's. Said that before I knew just how serious those feelin's got when I left. Now I'm tellin' you to enjoy the ride, because gettin' that back is the best fuckin' feelin' you'll ever experience."
He holds his hand out and I don't even think before slapping my palm against his and tightening my fingers around his grip. His hold on my hand is just as firm. His brow goes up before he gives one hell of a tug and pulls me into a backslapping hug.
"As pointless as it might be to say, I'm gonna do it anyway because it's my fuckin' duty as her brother: if you hurt her again I'll fuckin' kill you."
I laugh, but I don't say a word.
I don't say a word because not only will I do whatever I have to do in order to make sure that never happens, but also because if I'm unfortunate enough to have it actually happen . . . I hope he does.
17
QUINN
"I Like the Sound of That" by Rascal Flatts
- -
"What did he say?" I whine for the millionth time since he pulled me out of my house and into his truck. He just smirks, the infuriating man, ignoring me like he has for the last hour.
I haven't even been able to fully enjoy the fact that we're curled up on his cozy couch watching a movie, even though that movie is Suicide Squad and I've wanted to watch it since I missed it in the theater. I can't even enjoy my girl crush, Harley Quinn. Nope, none of that. All because the stupid, infuriating, stubborn-headed man next to me won't just tell me what my brother said.
He's just like Clay and Maverick, both of whom are keeping secrets about these little meeting-of-the-minds chats they've been having with my man.
Holy shit.
My man.
I look back at his profile. "Are you my man?" I blurt, not even giving one shit that I sound loony tunes.
"What?" He laughs, turning from the TV to finally pay me some attention.
"Well? Are you?"
"Christ, Quinn, I thought you knew what was goin' on here."
"I do!" I yell, calming down when he looks at me like I've grown a second head. "I mean, of course I know what's going on here, but I think we've left out some important things. Are we, I don't know . . . exclusive while we get to know each other again? I mean, I know what you've said you want and all, but you've never actually said you wanted to be exclusive. So I think it's a valid question."
I snap my mouth shut, the verbal vomit just floating in the air between us, my eyes wide and freaked the hell out.
"Where is this comin' from, darlin'?" he asks, low and carefully.
"So far, in two days, you've managed to work your way back into my life all th
e while erasin' the pain I had held close. In that time, you've also held private meetin's with my brothers, which screams that we're a whole lot more serious than just gettin' to know each other again, Tate. That screams that you're in a place way past gettin' to know someone. You won't tell me what y'all talked about. They won't say anything. Meanwhile, I'm over here wonderin' if you're ever gonna grow a pair and get on with it and break my hooha!"
His eyes bug out, probably mirroring mine--only I'm guessin' his aren't wide as hell, because he isn't the one who's mortified. Nope, that's all me. My mouth just won't shut the hell up today, it seems.
"Uh," he mumbles, turning so that his arm isn't over my shoulders holding me close to his side. My stomach drops and my eyes fix on to the coffee table. He shifts, turning so that one leg is curled between us, allowing him to turn his body to face me. Then he grabs my hands and dips his head to force me to look at him. "Not that I really understood all of that, but you know if you do break your . . . uh, hooha, that's somethin' I feel confident that I'm able to fix, right?"
Jesus Jones. I bet my face is so bright red right now it would glow in the dark. "Can you just forget that part?"
He chuckles. "Not a fuckin' chance, Grease."
"I didn't think so," I mumble, unable to look away from him even if my mind is screaming for me to.
"Your brothers just want to look out for you, Quinn. I took the time to let them know what my father did because I felt that was somethin' they deserved to know, seein' as it had to do with them too, in a way. Trust me when I tell you that there isn't anything we're keepin' from you. The three of us, we're on the same page when it comes to you, darlin'."
"And what page is that?"
"The one where they stop worryin' about you and I start lovin' you."
My breath stills in my throat.
"One day at a time, Quinn. One day at a time."
I still can't move. His words ricochet through my body, hitting every single nerve ending and zapping them into awareness before settling into my heart and waking it up completely after one long hibernation. Something clicks inside me in that moment, and I need to trust this between us completely. He wouldn't be going above and beyond to prove to me that he's here to stay--with and for me--if he didn't mean it.