Page 32 of Fool for You
After sending a few emails to the stables and myself her schedule, I closed Quinn’s laptop. “What about you?”
“Huh?”
“How did you start barrel racing?”
She inhaled, letting out a long breath through her nose. “My mom was a rodeo queen. As much as she tried to get me into thatpart of the rodeo world, I wanted to do my own thing—a little like you, I guess.”
“You were a rodeo queen?”
“Up until I was about thirteen, then I stopped to work at a stable. I bought Hook and started training and just…knew it was the right thing for me.” She slid her laptop close to her, her hands running along the closed lid. “I wasn’t the rodeo queen type.”
Looking at her, I could absolutely see her as the rodeo queen type. Quinn was beauty personified. I could picture it, clear as day. A crown on her hat with her hair teased and curled to perfection, her smile bright and radiant. Her hands on her hips, with her chest jutted out, displaying her brand-new sash. Her lips red, her shadowed eyes with long lashes, her blouse perfectly pressed, and her jeans free of any dirt. Custom chaps that caught your eye as she rode and waved to the crowd that just saw her be queened…
And even though I could see it, she was right. It wasn’t her.
Her hair was natural, cascading down her shoulders in waves, not a forced curl in sight. Her skin was flawless, a slight blush to her cheeks—most likely residual from earlier—but it still created the perfect glow to her. She wore a light coat of mascara, but no other makeup adorned her skin. She didn’t need it—she was stunning without it. Her lips were perfectly pink and kissable, even without lip gloss or lipstick to make them pop. Just looking at her sent heat through my body, a bolt of lightning shocking my entire being. Months ago, I had come to the conclusion she was the most beautiful woman I had ever seen, and looking at her now, seeing her in the most casual clothing, horsehair still lingering on the cotton—I stood by it. There was an urge to pull her to me, to feel her soft skin, her hair weaving through my fingers. I wanted so much more with her than I had ever dreamed. This feeling…just from looking at her.
Quinn was perfect. In every sense of the word.
“I need you to stop looking at me like that,” Quinn said softly, filling the silence that began to hang in the air.
“Like what?” I asked, my voice husky, furrowing my brow.
“Like you want to kiss me.”
I took a breath, not realizing I was looking at her that intently. But…
“I do want to kiss you,” I smirked, knowing that lying wouldn’t do me any good. “There’s no other way to look at you.”
She rolled her eyes slightly and looked away from me, her gaze falling on the window. “Wyatt, what was the second point I made when I first got here?”
I pushed myself up from the stool, heaving a sigh. “Strictly business.” I held up three fingers. “Scout’s honor.”
“Then stop looking at me like that.” She met my gaze, and the gleam from her emerald eyes told me I was still looking at her like I wanted to cradle her face, take her mouth with mine, and taste her. I broke eye contact before I made that a reality.
I inhaled, holding my breath for a beat before exhaling heavily, my hands finding the pockets of my sweats. “According to your schedule, we leave on Wednesday for a full day of travel.” I took a step closer to her, only tempting myself more to kiss her. I balled my hands into fists in my pockets. “I’ll tell Abi I won’t be around, and I’ll get the horses prepped for the drive.”
“I can prep the horses—”
“Quinn,” I stopped her, “Let mehelp.You focus on packing for five rides, and I’ll prep the horses.”
Her eyes narrowed for a millisecond, then she nodded. “Okay, fine. You prep the horses. I’ll pack, and we leave for Flagstaff on Wednesday.” She grabbed her laptop and once again held it to her chest. “Thank you, Wyatt,” she said, her voice sweet. “For everything…except the awkward moment for a second there.”
I raised a brow. “Nothing was awkward. Happy to help.”
“See you tomorrow?” She opened the door and slipped through before I even had time to respond. Then, she was gone.
“Tomorrow,” I repeated to an empty apartment.
Eleven
Quinn
ThedrivetoFlagstaffwas twelve hours without stopping every few hours to make sure the horses had hay and water, and suddenly, I was very thankful I had a co-pilot with me. Four hours into the drive and Wyatt insisted we stop at the next gas station. The second I shifted my truck into park, he hopped out of the cab, flopping his baseball cap on his head.
The truck was packed to the brim with all of our luggage—mainly mine. Wyatt assured me he was a light packer. Me? I had several hat boxes, outfits in garment bags, my own suitcase withtoiletries and hair accessories, and several pairs of boots. On top of everything I needed, I had all of Hook and Charming’s things in the tack. Wyatt had a single duffel bag, one pair of boots, and one baseball cap. When he opened the back seat of the cab, his eyes widened, and the exact words that came out of his mouth were, “You pack like Rhett,” before he shoved his bag in on top of the massive pile of my things.
I filled the tank, went into the building to use the facilities and grabbed a few snacks, and came back to Wyatt still in the trailer with the horses. I checked on my boys, seeing them happy as can be in Wyatt’s care, and then returned behind the wheel. Wyatt offered to drive but reluctantly gave in when I told him I was more comfortable behind the wheel. We played music—country mainly, with the random Panic! At the Disco and AC/DC song thrown in, and Wyatt surprised me even more when he began to sing along to Shania Twain.
