Page 113 of For Cowgirls and Kings
I open my eyes to see his face twisted with a look akin to warning. “Dale’s important to Stetson. Fuck, she’s…she’s important to me too.”
“She’s the most important thing to me,” I grumble, sitting up a little straighter, careful not to wake the woman in question still drooling on my chest.
“So when she’s ready to go home? What happens then? What are you guys?”
“What does it matter to you?”
“I know we’ve had our shit, but fuck Mateo. I’ve missed having you around. But”—he looks me in the eyes, his face grave—“it’ll be her, if there has to be a choice. We will protect her.”
His words do nothing but soothe some deeply hidden, dark part of my soul I didn’t even know was aching. The truth is, I want Dale to have this. I want her to have a family that looks out for her, no matter the consequences.Even if I’m one of the consequences.
I care deeply about Stetson, and about Gus. But if it came down to a choice, I’d choose Dale too. She deserves to be the most important thing—that’s all I’ve ever wanted for her.
I nod in agreement, and his face softens, just a little. He tips his head to the ceiling, blowing out a long breath.
“I fucking did it,” he says, more to himself than me. He’s talking about Stetson, the home, the family and life. I don’t know everything about his life before being here, but I know enough that this day has to be monumental, greater for him even than someone like me.
He’s never had anything like this, and he waited so long for it.
“You sure did.”
“So if she’s drunk, it’s rape. Are you sure? Because Stetson likes—” I put my hand up, cutting him off.
“What you and Mrs. Dobbs do is up to you. As long as you’ve discussed safe words and boundaries.”
“You’re such a weird fucking dude,” he huffs and I smile at that.
“At least I didn’t stalk a girl until she married me,” I tease.
He only shrugs his shoulders, his face set into a look ofacceptance. “I’m not sorry. Not if that means I get this,her,forever.”
I nod. There’s no need for words, not when it’s clear he means what he says. And honestly, I don’t blame him. If anything, I envy him.
Would I do anything to keep Dale? I hug her closer, letting my head fall back, eyelids growing heavy. When I’m almost drifting off, I hear Gus speak again.
“Roscoe.”
I lift my head, squinting at him across the room. He’s still sitting upright, Stetson’s head in his lap, his hand running through her golden curls.
“Huh?” I ask.
“Roscoe. It’s our safe word.”
I shake my head, laying it back, the sound of the air conditioning unit buzzing on and off lulling me to sleep. I drift off just like this, a small smile pulling at my lips.
The first thing I notice when I wake up is how the hairs on my arms are at full attention, the room so silent, I can’t even hear anyone else breathing. I squeeze the body still propped against my chest, and a breath whooshes from her, making me sag in relief. It’s so fucking dark and I can’t see shit.
I shift, sitting up farther, hoping to clear the inky darkness pooling around my vision.
The second thing I notice is Gus’s outline is rigid, his form like a solid wall of muscle, an arm draped over the back of the couch, something shimmering there.
A gun.
“Gus, what the fu—” I hiss, sitting straighter to find what has us both on edge.
“Shut. The fuck. Up,” he grinds out, his words barely audible. I freeze, his warning clear. Whoever it is, is already here.
The third thing I notice, the haze of sleep now fully evaporated thanks to the sharp adrenaline pumping through my veins, is the whisper of voices. Two from what I can make out—a man, and…
