Cheyenne’s lips were pulled up into the most radiant smile I’d ever seen—one of pure sunshine—as the same cowboy who’d asked her to dance spun her across the floor. I wasn’t the only person watching her. At least half the dancehall did too, as she dipped and twirled and two-stepped to the beat. She held a magic all her own, drawing everyone’s attention.
A part of me envied that. That light that she so easily possessed. Why couldn’t I have fallen for a girl like her? Sure, the cattle prod chasing, barrel racer part of her scared me a bit, but it had to be better than Ashleigh and her two timing ways.
There was no way a girl like her—who was pure light—could fall for someone with as dark and tainted a soul as me.
With a huff, I pushed off the table and made my way toward the exit.
I needed a smoke.
Chapter four
Cowboy Killer
Cheyenne
It was harder thanI’d anticipated to get my dance partner to leave me the hell alone. Sure, he was decent looking and a great lead, but he wasn’t the cowboy I wanted.
What was it with Maverick?
I’d been aware of him watching me on the dancefloor, mostly because I was painfully—I mean painfully—aware of him the entire time. Hoping, praying that maybe seeing me dance with another man would force him to act.
But no such luck on that front.
Either way it sucked and turned my mood sour. And I didn’t want to be in a bad mood tonight. Nate had ruined my day. I wouldn’t let my night be ruined as well. But as the song ended and the cowboy asked me for another dance, my gaze flicked to our table…only to find Maverick gone. My heart sank a bit at that, a burning need to find him taking over.
Why was I so desperate to cause myself pain tonight? Was I a masochist? I had to be, because there was no explanation I could think of that sent me searching for him. Why dance with a perfectly capable, perfectlyhandsome man when you could pine over a broody, emotionally unavailable cowboy, right?
But there was more to Maverick Holstrom than that. I just knew it, and I wanted to be the one who was able to pull back his layers and find the real Mav underneath. I’d wanted to know more about him from the moment I’d met him a couple years ago at one of our rodeos. He’d just always been so closed off and unapproachable.
He wasn’t at any of the bars—unsurprising—or the mechanical bull area, so I made my way outside. I scanned through the throng of people standing around smoking before my gaze landed on him. He leaned against the wall, away from the fray—again, unsurprising. It’s like he was allergic to people. Why even go out at all?
I ignored the random looks from strangers, a few catcalls, a couple whistles as I made my way towards him. My leather soles clacked against the cement.
“There you are,” I said, coming to stand before him.
He lowered his hand from his mouth and blew out a puff of white smoke, the sweet scent of tobacco hitting me. It gave me pause as I thought of Daddy. I hated the smell of cigarettes, but Black and Milds were like getting hit by a wave of nostalgia. My eyelids fluttered closed for a moment as I inhaled.
“Cheyenne? You okay?” His voice was a low, deep rumble in his throat. It should be a sin to have a voice like that. Honestly, everything about Maverick should be a sin. It was like he’d been designed to bring women to their knees.
“I was just comin’ out here to check on you, is all,” I said.
“I wasjust havin’ a smoke.”
My lips drew up into a knowing smirk. “I can see.”
Something shifted in his gaze, almost like guilt. “I only do it sometimes.”
I let out a low chuckle. “You don’t gotta justify it. Lots of people smoke. There ain’t nothin’ wrong with it. Besides, my Daddy smoked Black and Milds, you’ll never find me complainin’.”
He nodded, pressing the cigar to lips once more, and inhaled.
“So, havin’ fun?” I asked, trying to find a way to get him to say more than a couple words. Did he even understand that I was trying to flirt with him—tryingbeing the keyword—or that I’d come out here searching for him because I liked him? His eyes, his stoic face was so closed off that I couldn’t even tell. Which was infuriating.
He shrugged, blowing out another puff of smoke.
A flicker of annoyance escaped me, the edge in my voice peeking from beneath the surface. “Is that all you can do? Just…just shrug?” What do you know? Another. Damn. Shrug. I let out a disbelieving laugh. “You’re something else, cowboy.”
Those jade eyes settled on me, holding me in place. “Why’re you out here, Cheyenne?”
