Page 101 of For Cowgirls and Kings
“You deserve happiness!” Faith adds, and then they both end the call.
I raggedly sigh, the truth of Stetson and Faith’s words ringing in my head. No one can make me happy—give me a happy ending worth having—if I don’t try, if I don’t reach outand take it. And as crazy as it feels, I’m beginning to wonder if a life with Mateo is exactly what I want.
Or if it really is a fairytale, and the real world is going to come crashing back in, crushing me with the weight of it.
I stand, pulling a black velvet dress from the bag, the fabric decadent under my fingers. Tonight I’m going to play into the fantasy, I’m going to see if I am capable of being truly happy again, starting with putting on the prettiest turquoise jewelry I’ve ever seen, a black dress made for a queen, and going out to dinner with the only person in the world who makes me feel truly alive.
THIRTY-SEVEN
MATEO
March 7th, 2025
I twirl my whiskey glass,an ice cube clinking against the crystal, the amber liquid sloshing near the edge. I can’t get Dale out of my mind, from beneath my skin.
She’s always been a constant light surrounding each thought I have—warm and soft, dulling all of the rough edges of my existence. But she’s never been the center, never all-consuming, and that’s changed.She’s changed—not that I blame her.
I can’t escape thoughts of Dale, not that I want to, but I also haven’t known a moment's peace in months and it’s beginning to fray my well-honed nerves. I’m not erratic; I’m calculated, precise,intentional—except when it comes to a certain raven haired Latina with the dirtiest mouth known to man. Every rational thought I’ve ever had, or hope to have, flees my body like a grain of sand in the wind.
It’s maddening.
I love this new version of Dale that does what she wants, instead of what she thinks is expected of her. The version of her that’s vulnerable and raw because she wants to trust those in her circle, the one that sees the darkness of the world and doesn’t cower, but instead flashes her own teeth in defiance. I love thatshe asks the hard questions because she knows she deserves the answers.
I love the version of her that isn’t just yellow sunshine, but orange, red, yellow,black—she’s a flame and I’m helplessly drawn to her.
I love this Dale.
I slam the last finger of whiskey back, setting the glass down with a clink, but the burn does little to calm my nerves. I look at my watch, contemplating heading to our room to see if she ran away or not. I know my gesture—although not a big deal in my mind—will be a big one to her. And I’m wondering now if I scared her away.
Was it too much?
“Another sir?” the bartender asks, and I shake my head. If I have another who knows what the fuck I’ll do. If she left, I’ll probably track her down and fuck her over the hood of my car, just for disobeying me. If she’s still upstairs, I’ll probably get on my knees and crawl to her just to get a taste of her sweet little pussy.
Neither’s a good option when I’m desperately trying to keep my cool.
My phone buzzes and I pull it out.
DALE: Have another.
My eyes widenat the text. Did she just read my mind?
I look up, my eyes clashing with hers across the room, my throat sealing shut at the sight of her.Holy fuck.
She’s wearing the black velvet dress, the thin straps so small I can barely see them even from this distance, her voluptuous tits spilling over the heart-shaped top. Silver buttons run overone hip to the bottom where it flares into a ruffled skirt. She has those same insanely tall, black cowboy boots on, and her neck, wrist, and ears glitter with the turquoise set I purchased for her.
Have I mentioned she’s a fucking goddess?
The best accessory she’s wearing though, is a smirk, her plum colored lips tipped to the side, exposing a flash of white teeth. She’s a flickering mirage of who she used to be, over the woman she’s becoming—someone stronger, sturdier, braver.It’s a breathtaking image, and if I wasn’t sitting I’d fall to my knees at her fucking feet.
I stand, resting my hand on the bar to keep from doing just that, and start to walk toward her. She shakes her head, the mane of black hair curling around her hips, shimmers with the movement.
She strides toward me, an air of confidence mixing with her thick lavender scented perfume, and I greedily gulp in the scent and sight of her. She’s magnificent, and as nervous as she’d been on the phone earlier, she seems anything but now. She looks set to devour me, andI hope she does.
Dale sidles up next to me, setting a small black clutch on the rich wooden bar and smiles at the bartender. I watch his eyes light up at the sight of her, and I swear to god if he makes a single flirtatious comment I’ll reach across this bar and shove the spout of a bottle up his nose and into his fucking brain.
“Can I have an old fashion please?” She looks at me expectantly and I nod. Fuck it—I’m going to have to loosen up more still, if I have any hope of making it through this dinner alive. “Make that two. Oh, can I have extra cherries in mine? I love those fucking things.”
She faces me fully now, and from here I can see the thick layer of freckles dusting the swells of her breasts. My fingers twitch, and I grip the bar tighter to keep myself from reaching out and tracing a finger over their mesmerizingpatterns.
