“Is she?”
“Come on, Charli.”
I don’t even understand why we’re having this conversation. Cabe loves her. Everybody knows it.
Maybe they’re not together. Maybe they never will be. But that doesn’t erase everything between them.
Charli studies me quietly. “And if she wasn’t?”
I bark out a laugh. “Doesn’t matter.”
“Why not?”
Because it doesn’t. Because I leave in a few months. Because my life is rodeos and highways and motel rooms. Because I’m twenty-nine years old and still living out of duffel bags half the year. Because I’ve never had a serious relationship. Never wanted one.
Take your pick.
All of them are true.
“I’m a selfish, busted-up cowboy who doesn’t do relationships.”
She rolls her eyes. “Oh, please.”
“No, seriously.” I point toward myself. “I’m nobody’s match.”
That earns me a look. The kind Charli reserves for particularly stupid statements.
“My home is rotating motel rooms.”
“Motels aren’t homes, Ax.”
“Exactly. And no woman wants that for more than a night.”
There have been women. Plenty of women. Rodeo circuit. After-parties. Weekend flings. Nothing that lasted. Nothing that mattered. Nothing that required effort.
I drag a hand across the back of my neck. “I wouldn’t even know how to be more than a good time for someone.”
Charli stares at me for several seconds.
Then a smile slowly appears.
“What?”
“Someone said something similar to me once.”
I already know what she’s gonna say next.
“I’m not Bryce.”
“No, you’re not. But you two are cut from the same cloth.”
I snort.
“That man was a disaster before I came along.” She grins. “But look at him now.”
Bryce Raintree used to be the definition of restless.
Now he’s settled. Happy. And planning a wedding.
