Quickdraw Slow Burn

by T. S. Joyce

  Cheyenne popped out of the doorway and pulled Annabelle by the arm until she was trotting up the shallow trio of stairs and into the camper with her. “The smell will probably go away soon.”

  Raven made her way past Quickdraw and patted him on the shoulder, to which he flinched and muttered, “I don’t like people touching me.”

  “The smell will never go away,” she told him coolly and then sauntered into the camper and shut the door.

  “But…I don’t understand why you chose my RV to ruin,” Quickdraw said from outside.

  Annabelle could hear Dead explain, “Because you weren’t here to tell them ‘no’ when they got the dumbass idea to dress each other. Me and Two Shots denied any use of our campers for their girly shit. I don’t do glitter.”

  Annabelle, Raven, and Cheyenne stood still in the middle of the camper living room and put their hands over their mouths to stifle their laughing as they listened to the conversation outside.

  Dead grunted hard. “So violent,” he muttered. “Raven! Quickdraw shoved me. He touched my titty!” Lower he said, “My mate is a Hagan Heifer, and now she’s probably going to avenge me and kill you. These are her titties.”

  “Dead, get dressed!” Quickdraw yelled from farther away.

  “I am dressed!” Dead yelled back. “These are my going-out shorts!”

  Okay, Annabelle couldn’t help her laughter after Raven looked at her and Cheyenne somberly and explained, “They really are his going-out shorts. He will absolutely wear that tonight.”

  “Two Shots!” Quickdraw called from even farther away. “I need a beer, and you better have something manlier than Michelob Ultra in there.”

  “That ain’t my fault!” Two Shots yelled. “Dead was the one who made the beer run.”

  “I cut up limes for you two cows,” Dead called. “They’re in a Ziplock baggie in the fridge. It’ll give your beer a little zest.”

  Annabelle lost it. Just—God, it felt so good to laugh after the last month. She sat on the couch, and her whole body shook with her laughter. The other girls were losing it, too.

  “I assume you both have six-packs from laughing at them all the time,” Annabelle punched out through her giggles.

  Cheyenne put her finger to her lips and said, “Shhhh. Don’t let them hear you say they’re funny. Their egos are already ridiculous.”

  “I brought you options,” Raven said, gesturing grandly to the back of the couch where four pair of bootcut jeans were laid out neatly.

  Annabelle pressed her hand to her chest in mock shock. “Are those yours?”

  Raven grinned and nodded. “Uh huuuuh.”

  “And…are they Wranglers?”

  Another grin, another nod, another, “Uh huuuuh.”

  “You’re so different now,” she teased, standing to get a better look at them. Basically, she picked the biggest pair and hoped they would fit. She was a little curvier than Raven.

  “Cheyenne and I are wearing tank tops under flannel shirts if you want to match!”

  “Oh, I didn’t bring a flannel.” Or even really knew what one was. She thought they were plaid perhaps?

  “Oh, girl, I’ve got you,” Cheyenne said. She unzipped a suitcase that was sitting on the living room floor next to her and pulled open the lid. There were three warm-looking plaid shirts with diamond stitching on the insides. One was pink and red and black, one was green and black, and one was blue and teal. She picked that one because she’d brought a teal tank top with her.

  Sweet. Outfit chosen. Perhaps she wasn’t going to look particularly sexy tonight, but that’s not why she was here. Mostly.

  She thanked Cheyenne, grabbed her clothes, and changed in the bathroom while Raven and Cheyenne did their makeup in front of the mirrored closet doors in Quickdraw’s bedroom.

  While she was changing, she listened to them chattering comfortably, and a little pang of envy filled her chest. Raven had always been her best friend since they were kids. Raven had never had friend-chemistry like this with anyone else as long as Annabelle had known her.

  She’d had a moment of jealousy, but that wasn’t fair. Raven was happy, and Cheyenne, even though she was human, was a part of Raven’s herd. Of course, they should be close.

  Why did Annabelle feel so left out?

  No, that wasn’t fair either. It was Annabelle’s choice not to include Raven in what she was going through. She’d caused a gap between them, not Raven. Raven had called and texted her every day.

  She was glad her best friend was happy, even if it wasn’t in their hometown with Annabelle. Raven had always been meant for something bigger.

  Annabelle looked at herself in the small bathroom mirror. She still had on her sunglasses, but that wouldn’t fly in a bar at night. Self-conscious, she removed them and tried to hold her own ice-blue gaze in the reflection.

  She couldn’t. Her wolf was frozen there inside of her. Broken perhaps?

  She needed to take a pregnancy test and either deal with her new future or tell the wolf she was being ridiculous. Maybe force a change out in the woods. Maybe pee on a few trees. Maybe eat a bunny or two. You know…normal werewolf stuff.

  She pulled her hair up into a high ponytail and straightened the flannel on her shoulders, then walked out to touch up her makeup with the girls.

  In Quickdraw’s bedroom, there were flowers on the bed, and Annabelle hesitated.

  “Whoa,” Raven said. “Hello, Wolf. You look calm enough but your eye color says you are riled up. Are you okay?”

  “Oh, yeah, I’m great. Just nervous to be here.” Lie. God, she didn’t even believe her tone.

  Her best friend cocked up one dark eyebrow. “Okaaaay. Well, those are for you. Quickdraw asked me what your favorite flowers are.”

  Gingerly, Annabelle picked up the small bouquet of Azaleas from the bed and did her best not to tear up. Her dang emotions were all over the place. There was a letter, so she unfolded the notebook paper and read it silently.

  Dead said girls like flowers. I have no idea why I’m listening to him, but I also watched this corny chick-flick the other night and this guy gave the girl he liked flowers. She cried or some shit and Dead explained that sometimes you girls do that when you’re happy. That’s terrifying, so just in case you cry, I got you another present. Open it before you read the rest of this.

  With a frown, she picked up the small package that had been sitting under the flowers and note. Inside was a pair of cherry-flavored edible underwear.

  She snorted and read the rest of the note.

  They’re supposed to taste like fruit roll-ups. No crying. You can always count on me to get you weird shit to go with flowers. Or just count on me.

  Quickdraw.

  Annabelle wrapped the fruity lingerie back into its packaging and held it to her chest. Why was he being so nice to her? Why was he so interested? They’d only spent one night together four weeks ago, and she wasn’t stupid. A man like Quickdraw could have any girl he wanted.

  “You look confused,” Raven murmured, sinking onto the edge of the bed. “What are you thinking?”

  Annabelle swallowed hard and sat on the bed with her. Stalling, she smelled the flowers. They were fresh cut and smelled way better than the strong perfume Cheyenne had doused the place in.

  “He does seem interested, but it’s a little intimidating.”

  “Quickdraw is?” Cheyenne asked, laying down on the other side of the bed on her side, facing them. “Maybe to the bulls and riders in an event, but to us, he’s just…Quickdraw.”

  “Yeah, but Quickdraw is the sexiest man I’ve ever seen. He has tons of girls watching his social media, just waiting for a picture of him. How does a woman like me even compete with that?”

  Raven frowned. “Your eyes are staying blue. Are you sure you’re all right?”

  “Oh, I’m fine. Just having some wolf problems.” It wasn’t totally a lie, and Raven-the-lie-detector didn’t call her out, thank goodness.

  “If it eases your mind
a little,” Cheyenne said softly, “I’ve never seen him bring any girls in here. Or to Two Shot’s ranch where he stays with us when we have time off between events.”

  Hope was a fragile thing but important, nonetheless. “Really?”

  “I’ve never even seen him talking to girls at the events.” Raven shrugged. “Even when he’s signing autographs at his table, he won’t put his arms around girls for pictures. He just stands there with his hands clasped behind him. His focus is on winning. That’s why he’s the best in the world. When he started asking about you, we were shocked as hell. That man only bucks, practices bucking, eats to buck, and dreams of bucking.”

  Cheyenne propped up on her elbow. “The boys rib him constantly about you. He’s probably going to murder one or both of them at some point.”

  “Don’t bring old relationships into new ones,” Raven said softly to Annabelle. “I can see what you’re doing. Quickdraw isn’t Matthew.”

  “What happened with Matthew?” Cheyenne asked.

  At the mention of her ex, Annabelle cringed.

  Raven tactfully explained, “He was a cheating lowlife and a pencil-dicked, soft-handed, lying little pube that had no business dating so far out of his league in the first place. Annabelle isn’t a girl you burn. She’s the one you take home to Mom. He led her on for seven years, promising her a ring, a life, a family, all of it. He wasted her best boob years.”

  Annabelle snorted. “I’ll have you know my boobs are still in their prime. At least, that’s what I tell myself. He did waste my time, though. Men who can drag a woman through their life like that without the commitment? They gotta break you down and make you think you don’t deserve the ring. So, yeah, I’m not in a rush to get back into a relationship unless I know that man is on the same page as me.”

  “Just make sure it’s fair to Quickdraw. He shouldn’t pay for that man’s mistakes. He wants to get to know you, Annabelle, the real you, and you aren’t an easy open. You’re like one of those prank presents that’s all wrapped up in duct tape and a wooden box. A man needs a box cutter and a crowbar to get to the goods inside.”

  “It’s just how I’m built,” Annabelle said. “A man has to work harder for my heart. That’s all.”

  “Yeah, but that’s not how you were when we were growing up. You were open and believed in the good in everyone. That relationship changed you, so it’s time to un-fuck yourself. Not for your ex, but for you. Believe in the good again.” Raven canted her head, and the smile that spread across her face was so effortless, so pretty. “Trust me. Some men have so much good in them. Maybe just try to use a little less duct tape on your present.”

  This conversation had been surprisingly eye-opening. Raven had never talked like this to or about her. She’d been paying attention. But the problem was, as much as she hoped he wouldn’t run, sometimes that happened. Sometimes people dragged their feet and then ran. And what if she allowed herself to get close to him and then he abandoned her? It would be damage like Matthew gave her all over again. It was scary to open up like that again with anyone, much less a huge risk like a nomadic bull shifter chasing rodeo events. There was no stability in his life.

  “Subject change. You look hot in flannel,” Cheyenne complimented her.

  “I do?” Annabelle looked over at her reflection in the closet door mirrors and then stretched her long leg out to admire the jeans, too. She stood and did a turn, hugged the fitted flannel closer to her curves and sashayed this way and that. The jeans made her butt look perky and her legs look longer, shapelier. Huh. She’d thought she wasn’t going to be cute tonight, but the teal in the shirt made her bright blue eyes pop, too.

  This wasn’t her usual style, but she had to admit, she didn’t hate it. And she was comfy-as-hell right now. She was even wearing her most comfortable high heels under the boot cut jeans to give her legs more length.

  She turned this way and that in the mirror. Huh. Huh, huh, huh. This was the best she’d felt about herself in months.

  Cheyenne leaned closer to Raven with a conspiratorial smile. “She’s one of us now.”

  When they were finished getting ready, Cheyenne led them outside and past a few RVs until they reached the home she shared with her mate, Two Shots Down. The boys were outside, sitting around a fire pit, drinking bottles of Michelob Ultra with slices of lime floating in them. Ha.

  “Don’t judge me,” Quickdraw grumbled. “Hanging around these idiots is making me weak.”

  “On the outside, he’s a cactus,” Dead explained, “but on the inside, he’s got a soft, mushy-gushy center.”

  Quickdraw chugged the last few sips of his beer and stood up. “Okay, let’s fight.”

  “No!” Cheyenne barked. “You have interviews tomorrow, and I’ll be damned if you show up to another one with black eyes.”

  “Ha, ha,” Dead taunted, pointing at Quickdraw, who looked like he was about to snap the bearded behemoth’s finger off.

  Cheyenne stomped her foot. “I was talking to you, Dead!”

  Dead of Winter scrunched up his face. “Two Shits, your wifey is very angry today. You should probably bone her bett—”

  “Do you want to die today?” Two Shots asked him, standing up with Quickdraw.

  “Everyone in the trucks!” Raven said cheerfully. “Tonight is herd bonding time and my first night out with my bestie in a month. You jackasses aren’t going to ruin this for us.”

  The boys were all frozen, glaring at each other.

  “Now!” Raven demanded, then did an about-face and made her way toward a huge, jacked up truck with Cheyenne.

  This was the part where Annabelle was supposed to stick with the girls, right? And back up their bravado? Because they obviously knew how to manage these titans better than her, but she couldn’t pull herself away from Quickdraw. If Two Shots or Dead threw a punch, she was about to get involved.

  Dead twitched forward like he was gonna rush Quickdraw, but he didn’t. He just whispered, “My girl will kill you.”

  “No, she won’t,” Quickdraw muttered. “You annoy her more than I do.”

  “She’ll turn into a longhorn and stab you in the face.” Dead was glaring and saying each word with passion, but behind them, Two Shots was pursing his lips against a grin.

  “Well, I have a werewolf,” Quickdraw whispered back, “and she would rip your throat out and squat on your carcass. I’ve seen her get protective. She’s fuckin’ terrifying.”

  Dead cast Annabelle a calculating glance. “How terrifying?”

  Quickdraw splayed his legs, crossed his arms over his chest, lifted his chin in the air, and glared down his nose at Dead. “You would piss your pants if you saw her. I’ve seen her with my own eyes. She’s like those legend werewolves that kill whole villages for fun.”

  Two Shots looked at her with his eyebrows raised, and he looked pretty damn impressed right now, so she shook her head and mouthed, No I’m not.

  She’d forgotten Quickdraw had seen her wolf, though. She’d changed the night they’d spent together because he had asked to see that side of her. She wasn’t modest about her animal as long as she felt safe. That night, she’d felt safe.

  Dead took a step closer and flinched at Quickdraw again. “Well, my lady would stomp on your lady and squish her head like a grape with her Hagan hoof.”

  “No I wouldn’t,” Raven called out. “She’s my best friend! I’m getting hungry, Dead. Can you please continue your pissing contest in the car?”

  Dead narrowed his eyes at Quickdraw and walked slowly past him. “I don’t know what a pissing contest means, but I could piss farther than you, too.”

  Quickdraw’s eye twitched as he watched Dead walk away. Two Shots was laughing under his breath, and Annabelle’s cheeks were hot from the effort exerted not to bust out laughing.

  “I would rather stick my balls in a fire ant mound than ride in the same truck with them to the bar,” Quickdraw enlightened her.

  “Let’s take our own chariot then,” she said
cheerily. “For I like your balls better without fire ant bites.”

  “Mmmm,” he rumbled. With light fingertips pressed to the small of her back, he guided her toward his truck parked beside his camper. “So, you’re saying you like my balls.”

  With a snort, she pushed him playfully. “One-track mind. All you boys have a one-track mind. Quickdraw!”

  He startled. “What?”

  “I forgot I showed you my wolf.”

  “Holy shit, Annabelle. You scared me. I thought it was something serious.”

  “Oh, no. Sometimes I just get random bouts of excitement.”

  He got this lopsided little grin and ran his hand down his dark beard. “That’s pretty cute. And I don’t usually say that word because men don’t say the word ‘cute,’ but you’re really fuckin’ cute.”

  Annabelle couldn’t stop the smile that commandeered her face if she tried.

  “There she is.” His voice had softened.

  “There’s who?”

  “There’s the girl I remember.”

  She exhaled, and a few pounds of pressure she hadn’t realized she was carrying on her shoulders released with her sigh. He liked when she was happy. She could tell. There was value in a man promoting happiness. Some didn’t know how to do it. Some didn’t care if their partner was happy or not, but the good ones? They nurtured it.

  Yeah, he was a punchy-punchy-foul-mouthed-at-times-rough-around-the-edges cowboy with one maniac bull living inside of him, but down at his core? Where it counted the most? He had it together.

  “Why are you single?” she asked as he opened the passenger door of his truck for her.

  “You want the short version or the truth?”

  “Both.”

  He offered his strong hand for her to climb into his impossibly high Chevy, and then he leaned on the door. “Short version, I don’t want anyone taking focus off what I want to accomplish.”

  “I respect that.”

  He nodded and closed her door, then made his way around the front of the truck and got in. “Long version, I had someone take the focus off it for a long time.”