Page 65 of Burned & Bound

And I hated how blind I’d been to all of it.

Mom spoke quietly with West as she stared up at him. She rubbed his arms, touched his face, ruffled his hair, and more. She didn’t notice how he stiffened at the contact nor did it faze her when he tried to move back.But I sure as fuck did.West would never tell her to back off. Lucky for him, I didn’t have a problem asserting myself where necessary.

“Come on now, Ma,” I interrupted. I wrapped an arm around her shoulders and casually put myself between her and West to give him the space he needed. He took a step back, and I winked at him before giving my mom my attention. “Did you forget about your own damn son? What the hell am I? Chopped liver?”

“Oh, please,” she scoffed but leaned into my side. “I see you all the time.”

“And you pimp me out all the time to your ladies,” I retorted. “I think I deserve a decent hello for the shit you put me through.”

“That I put you through?” Her voice rose dramatically. “Please. You love the limelight, baby boy. Don’t even pretend.”

“Some limelight,” I corrected.

“You can say that all you want, but I’ve been in Hester’s room. She has six framed pictures with you, and I know for a fact that she only paid for two.”

“I don’t know what the fuck you’re talking about.”Yes, I did, but Hester was adorable.I steered Mom toward the elevators. “Keep up, West.”

“It’s good to see you, baby boy,” Mom said quietly as she hugged my side. Squeezing tight, I kissed the top of her head. “I missed you.”

“I missed you too.”

We made our way across the building. The entire way, Mom kept a constant stream of conversation going with West—rather, she talked at him while he made small sounds of agreement. I was still figuring out most of West’s tells to understand him, but I would’ve bet anything that he was overwhelmed, itching to smoke, and needing a minute alone.

What he needed was a mini-escape plan. I was damn good for one of those.How many nights had I strategically escaped all rodeo media just to hook up with some straight-swearing cowboy?

“Stairs are down that way, West,” I told him loudly when the elevator door opened. West stopped just outside of it and looked at me like I was a fucking moron.

“What?” Mom demanded, her brows coming together as she frowned. “Jackson—”

“Fifth floor,” I continued over her. I nodded down the hall while I ushered Mom into the elevator. “There’s not enough room in the elevator.”

“Right,” West began slowly, “fifth floor. Take the stairs, got it. See you upstairs.”

He took his leave without hesitation.Mission accomplished.At least, I hoped he got it. If not, he probably thought I was a fucking asshole.

“Jackson!” she exclaimed. “There’s more than enough room for him in the elevator. You didn’t have to be rude.”

“Ma.” I hit the fifth floor button as the doors closed. While I crossed my arms, Mom squared off her shoulders.Yeah, I got my fire from her.“You have to stop touching West.”

“What does that mean?”

“He doesn’t like to be touched, so you have to keep your damn hands to yourself. I don’t want to fight you, but I will fight you if you don’t stop touching him.”

“You’ll fight me?” She laughed, and something about the way her face lit up was frustrating.

“What?” I asked. “What are you laughing at?”

“I forgot how cute you were when you got all protective of West,” Mom said.

“I’m a grown-ass man! You can’t call me cute!”

“Oh, baby boy.” Reaching up, she pinched my cheek. I scowled. The woman dared to pinch my goddamn cheeks. She hadn’t done so since I was a fucking kid.

“Ma!”

“You’re my son. I can call you cute all I want,” she retorted. The elevator dinged, and the doors opened. Stepping out, she waved down the hall and ordered, “I’ll keep my hands to myself. Wait out here for West since you so rudely made him walk up five flights of stairs.”

“It wasn’t rude.”It wasn’t rude.I was trying to make this experience less miserable for West. “It wasn’t rude…”

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