I can’t slap the grin from my face. I’m starting to like her particular brand of crazy happy. It’s been a long time since I’ve laughed out loud, and so many times in one day. I feel lighter around Maggie. So I busy myself with rummaging through the contents of the bag until I have a burrito out, unwrapping the foil down halfway.
I hold it out, expecting her to take it.
Instead, she leans over and takes a big bite.
Cheeks blown out with the huge bite, she chews, nodding her head. “Yo go da twy dis.”
I shake my head at her and unwrap one for myself.
The second my mouth closes around the savory goodness, I groan.
When she’s done swallowing her bite, Maggie’s mouth makes a little O shape as her eyes brighten with delight. My throat bobs as I swallow and her gaze drops to the movement. Not giving her a second to stare any longer, I shove her burrito toward her face. She leans over, biting again. This time a smaller, more practical bite.
She imitates my groan, her face lit with mirth, but it comes out more like a soft moan. All of a sudden the food is forgotten. My cock is steel in my jeans, my grip around the wrapped delicacy turning punishing.
“God, I knew I was hungry, but this is...” she whispers.
“Yup, thanks for the breakfast. I’ll get the next one.”
“It’s not tit for tat, Hadley.” Her words are soft, matching those green eyes locked on me now.
“I don’t want your charity.”
And . . . we’re back to awkward.
A long moment drags before she sighs. “You know, you can accept kindness. Not everything needs to be calculated. Not everyone wants something in return.”
Huffing, I volley back, “Yeah, right.”
I drop the bag to the footwell of the van’s cab.
“Eat your burrito, Jones. You’re hangry.”
That’s not the word I’d use... More like already hung up. More like rock-fucking-hard in this confined space with her. I do as she says and eat the damn burrito.
An hour later, she gestures for more. I bust open a bag of chips plus the chocolate bar she asks for, and I’m back to feeding her bites.
One mouthful at a time.
I can’t drag my gaze from her lips, the column of her throat as she swallows it down.
Her, period.
It’s a quiet ride the rest of the way to the event. The small town it’s hosted in is bustling, though, and that’s the pull of rodeo right there. Folks are filing in, vehicles rolling into the grounds as we join the lineup, and Maggie finds a spot under a big old weeping willow tree on the opposite side of the grounds.
I can’t blame her.
The last thing you want is having to get back to your digs among the party crowd. This ain’t no rager. This is our job, sometimes with back-to-back rides and events.
The VW rattles to a halt and Maggie reverses it under the tree, leaving room on the sliding door side for her to... set up?
The tree’s canopy hangs over the space between it and the van, making a shaded spot enclosed by the curtain of green. Almost like a treehouse.
“There you go. I assume you’re sleeping on the ground tonight?” Her attention alternates between me and the tree.
What is it with this girl and enormous trees?
“Um, yeah. Thanks.” I undo my seatbelt and push from the passenger door.
