“Have you always wanted to rodeo?” Her words almost don’t fit right, like somehow rodeo is not something she considers aworthy way to spend your time. Guess that figures, after what she just told me.
“Ah, not exactly. I only got in it to earn extra money for the ranch.”
“Oh, okay.” She takes the last bite of her pastry and turns her attention to her coffee.
Was it something I said?
I can save this. “How’s the pictures for the association going?”
Her eyes narrow a little as she half smiles.
“You mean for the PBR?”
“Yep, those guys.” I lean back, but I grab awkwardly for the table when I remember I’m on a stool, not a chair with a backrest. My knees hit the underside of the small table and the coffee jolts. Mine spills over.
“Hell, sorry,” I growl, frantically looking for something to clean up my mess. Leaning, I reach for a tea towel hanging over the small round sink. My fingertips brush the corner of it as the stool slips out from under me.
A second later, I crash to the floor, tea towel in hand, table thoroughly disturbed, and what’s left of my coffee and breakfast is all over me. “Ah, fuck.”
Maggie’s face splits with amusement as she presses a hand over her mouth, taking a step back from the chaos.
Heat flushes my neck and face as I make an effort to scoop up the breakfast and mop up the coffee with the tea towel. I roll onto my side and sit up. My head bashes into the underside of the table.
Maggie bursts out laughing, and I can’t help the hearty laugh rattling my chest.
Hell, it’s been a long time since I’ve done that more than once.
She kneels beside me, taking the tea towel from my hands.
“Ah, no way. I made the mess; I’ll clean it up.”
She brushes her fingers over my jaw. “Hadley...” Her hand comes away. Scrambled egg rests on her fingertips.
I chuckle and she rests back on her heels. “Thank you.”
My laughter peters out.
“What on earth for? Ruining breakfast or making a mess of your van?” A stone grows steadily in my throat as I take in her elegant angles, the depths of her green eyes. The way her cheekbones meet her temples awash in brown curls.
“Making me laugh.” She glances at the table with a cheeky expression.
And, damn.
Staring at me for a beat, her bottom lip is caught between her teeth. Finally, she pushes to her feet and shifts the table away from this accident-prone cowboy. I carefully rise and clean up the best I can. Without making any more mess or running face-first into anything else in her tiny-ass van, I help her pack up.
The rain, or whatever the misty shit is, has cleared up by the time I fix my bedding and toss it into the van. Gear bag next, double-checking I didn’t miss anything last night. Learned that lesson the hard way, leaving my bull rope hanging on the side of a chute once... never to see it again.
The thought of losing the chaps the girls bought me?—
“You ready?” Maggie chirps, leaning on the side of the van, arms crossed. Her sunglasses ride high in her hair, tight jeans and a pale blue T-shirt currently showcasing her perfect fucking tits pushed up and framed by her arms.
“Almost,” I rasp.
“Good. Did you find the part for your old truck?”
I stop mid-zipper on the gear bag.
Dammit.
