Quickdraw Slow Burn Read online

  Heart drumming out of her chest, she picked up the second and, yep, there was a second line. There it was. She picked up the first test again, and the line was getting darker.

  Oh, my God.

  Annabelle looked up at herself, then down at the tests. Why was she smiling? Why was she laughing? Why was her laugh getting all thick? Why were tears streaming down her face now?

  She searched her mind high and low, but she didn’t feel any disappointment. Not like when she’d thought she wasn’t pregnant.

  “I’m gonna do this.”

  Inside, her wolf howled a triumphant sound that rattled this way and that through her mind. Annabelle sat on the floor, cradling the two tests to her heart and just…broke down.

  She’d never realized she wanted something so bad.

  She was going to do this. With a teammate or not, she was going to have a little Wrangler butt, tough-as-nails little baby boy.

  A boy, a boy. Shifters only had sons, so she would have a boy.

  He existed, and he was a part of her. He existed.

  Annabelle wrapped her arms around her stomach, and two little tears splatted onto her arms.

  “They’re happy tears,” she assured him, her little baby. Her little pup. “You’re wanted.” She would never let him feel unwanted. She’d felt like that before, but she would never ever let him feel that way. Not even for a day.

  Inside, her wolf was so emotional. She’d always wanted this. Always. She didn’t want to be a lone wolf; she wanted to build a pack. She wanted to love something outside of herself.

  “We’re going to do this,” Annabelle whispered.

  Chapter Twelve

  Annabelle opened the bathroom door to find Quickdraw sitting on the couch. She startled hard because she hadn’t heard him return.

  “Hey, Scaredy-Wolf,” he said with a slight frown at her reaction. “I have a surprise for you.”

  Fighting the urge to wipe any remaining dampness from her cheeks, she sniffed and composed her face, then asked, “What kind of surprise?”

  The evening shadows had begun to stretch across the RV park, and Quickdraw glanced out the window at them, then back to her. His eyes searched hers, uncertain. “You like surprises, right?”

  “I love them,” she answered in earnest. “I’ve always loved them. I never want to know even hints before surprises. I just like to be knocked out with them. For future reference.”

  “Okay, good.” He sauntered closer and gripped her hip, pulled her in and kissed her. And, boy, did he kiss her. It was that heart-pounding, boob-tingling, breath-shaking, first-love kind of kiss. She didn’t know how long they stood there like that, their lips crashing against each other’s, but she did know she felt utterly drunk on Quickdraw by the time he pulled back.

  “Best. Surprise. Ever,” she murmured, taking her time to open her eyes to the real world again.

  When she did, he was standing tall and strong in front of her, smelling like cologne, a baseball cap on backward, a navy T-shirt under a blue and black flannel that hugged the strong muscles of his arms just right.

  “You look good in blue,” she told him. “It’s my favorite color on you.”

  “Really?” he asked, his smile turning crooked and questioning.

  “Oh, yep. Really, really.”

  “The kiss wasn’t your surprise.”

  “There’s more?”

  He chuckled and wrapped his big, warm hand around hers and tugged her gently toward the door. “Come on. It’s outside.”

  “Ummm, do you like surprises?” she asked. “I mean for future reference.”

  “Hate surprises. I like to know exactly how everything will be when it happens. Or maybe it’s my bull’s controlling tendencies. I’m good under pressure and not much stresses me out, but surprises? They stress me out.”

  Well…shit. Surprise, you’re going to be a dad.

  She was going to have to think of a way to bring it up gently, maybe not spring it on him the day before he did a two-day buck-off for the number one bull in the world and a one-million-dollar purse.

  Her timing had always been unsatisfactory.

  Maybe she would buy him a little present of baby Wranglers and cowboy boots after the finals were over and a nice handmade card that said, Surprise! Your sperms work, and see if he wanted to sink or swim in the lake of fatherhood.

  She was going to be a mom!

  “Your heartbeat is racing a mile a minute,” Quickdraw murmured. “You really do like surprises, don’t you?”

  Be cool. “Surprises are one of my favorite things. And street tacos with extra green sauce, also being on time to places and when my hair isn’t frizzy, sunny days and barbecue sauce. And…friendly people.”

  He laughed as he led her around the corner of the camper. “I want to know it all. Anything else that is your favorite?”

  You. She cleared her throat and said softly, “I don’t mind being here.” With you.

  Ooooh, she had a crush on her baby daddyyyyy.

  Be cool, be cool. Be super cool.

  He rounded on her and gripped her shoulders gently, then stepped to the side and gestured to a folding table he’d set up by the firepit. It had a red and white checker tablecloth and a candle lit in the middle of the table. There were paper plates, plasticware, and napkins and glasses of ice water so cold condensation was dripping down the sides. And on the firepit, there was an iron grate with three covered cast-iron skillets. She could smell the venison steak from here.

  “Hunter said wolves like the game meats, so I called in a favor and tracked some down.” Quickdraw was studying her.

  “You did this for me?” she asked, stunned.

  “Well, it ain’t much—”

  “Yes, it is,” she whispered. “This is better than a fancy restaurant. You set this all up yourself. I didn’t even know you were out here doing all of this. I would’ve helped.”

  “I didn’t want you to. I wanted to surprise you.” He pressed his fingertips to the small of her back and guided her toward the table. Chills rippled up her spine from how good his touch felt.

  He pulled out one of the camp chairs from under the table and picked up a thick flannel jacket and a folded blanket. “I put these out for you in case you got cold. That wind kicked up a little.”

  Indeed, it had. He held out the jacket for her, and she slid her arms into his oversize coat, then cuddled it tight around her and smelled it. She committed the scent to memory. It was Quickdraw and cologne and the fur of his bull.

  “You sniff everything,” he said, pushing the chair in under her.

  “I do?” she asked as he set the blanket over her lap. And bless that man, he even tucked it around the edges of her thighs so the wind couldn’t get in.

  “You even sniff all your food before you eat it. And the milk in the fridge? You sniff it before you pour a glass. And when we’re at the arena or out anywhere, your little nose is always twitching. I wonder what those smells are telling you. Are the scents the same for you as they are for me? Or are the smells different to you because you are a wolf and I’m a bull?”

  “You’re a watcher.”

  He knelt by the firepit and began loading food onto a plate—steak, green beans, a baked potato stuffed with butter and cheese, and a buttered biscuit. As he did, he told her something real. “My mom thought I was dumb when I was a kid because I didn’t talk until I was four, and when I did start talking, I didn’t say much. Still don’t.”

  “I don’t think anyone could mistake you for dumb now. You’re quiet, but that’s because you don’t speak unless you have something important to say. Too many people in the world fill up the space with nonsense just to hear themselves speak. Not you.”

  He stood with that steaming plate of food in his hands, the flickering flames casting his features in a soft orange glow. He set the food in front of her and said, “I think you’re a watcher, too.”

  And she knew what he meant. She was doing good at seeing him. It felt like
a compliment.

  Quickdraw was quiet for a few moments as he made his own plate.

  “Quickdraw? She asked, stirring the butter and cheese into her piping hot potato. “This looks amazing. This is a nice dinner and a lot of effort and you know how everyone had a different love language?”

  “I think I heard something about love languages before,” he murmured, eyes dark in the flicker of the firelight.

  “Well effort is my love language. I appreciate it. So…thank you very much for making me feel special with this.”

  His lips curved up just at the corners with the most handsome smile. “That’s good to know. I think my love language is blow jobs.”

  “Ha!” she belted out a single, surprised laugh. “You’re such a guy.”

  He chuckled and sat across the table from her with his food. “If I’m honest, I went all out with the cooking for you tonight for a selfish reason.”

  “You want sex?”

  Quickdraw coughed, and his eyebrows disappeared into his baseball cap. “Good Lord, woman, what? I mean, yes, I would love sex with you, but that’s not what I was talking about.”

  Oh. Pity. He looked really good tonight. And smelled good. And could cook. And she liked his deep voice and southern accent and beard and literally every single thing about him.

  “Whoops,” she quipped.

  “He stared off into the sunset behind the RV park for a few seconds.

  Concerned with the blank look in his eyes, she asked, “Are you okay?”

  “Yeah, I’m just thinking of stuff that turns me off so I can get rid of my boner.”

  She brayed a laugh and, yep, she looked under the table and, yep, that was a monster boner pressing against the zipper of his jeans.

  “Damn, Annabelle, I was sort of trying to be a gentleman,” he muttered.

  Annabelle leaned forward, resting her elbow on the table. “Hey, you said blow job, and that’s not very gentlemanly. And besides, what if all we had was this weekend?”

  He canted his head to the side. “What do you mean?”

  “What if you find out something unbecoming about me and all we have is now? Why waste the time we have on being a gentleman?”

  And that man seemed to consider it. He cracked his knuckles right in front of his wicked grin, and then smooth as anything, he reached under the table, grabbed her leg behind her knee, stretched her leg out straight, rested her foot right on his dick, and relaxed back again. “You can keep that there for the entirety of this meal if you’d like. We can time how long you keep my dick hard. New tradition. Every night before a big buck, I’ll make you a big dinner, we’ll eat it just us where it’s quiet, and you can fuck with me all you want.”

  She lowered her chin and grinned. “That’s more like it. If I accept your proposition, I feel like I will have certain responsibilities.”

  “Oh, yeah? I’ll take the bait. What do you think will be expected of you?”

  “I’ll be the one to keep you calm before big bucks.”

  “Oh, no, I need to fight. I’ll fight any man who even looks at me wrong before a buck.”

  “Oh. Okay, so no keeping you calm. Do you need a good fucking before a bucking?”

  “I actually love that you have a filthy little mind and mouth on you. And you’re fun.”

  “And protective, like you. So maybe don’t start fights with people in front of me, or you’ll have to peel me off them.”

  “That would be very bad.”

  “Very bad. I would expose all werewolves, and I don’t think the world is quite ready to admit that we exist yet.”

  Quickdraw shrugged. “Or it’s long overdue that they did know. If you were ever the one to get werewolves outed to the public? You wouldn’t have to worry about retaliation from the packs.” His eyes flashed with a humbling intensity. “You are safe. You can do anything you want now, Annabelle. You know who is standing at your back, watching everything around you. I would snuff any threat to you out of existence, and guess how much sleep I would lose over the carnage?”

  “None,” she guessed around a bite of the venison steak.

  “None,” he agreed. “Blood on my hands never bothered me.” Quickdraw looked at his phone. “Three minutes.”

  She pressed her toes forward and wished she wasn’t wearing her comfy Ugg boots so she could feel his erection better. He groaned softly as she moved her foot slowly between his powerful thighs. It was the sexiest sound she’d ever witnessed.

  As he chatted on easily with her, like the biggest buck of his life wasn’t looming tomorrow, she settled into the comfortable cadence of touching him and listening to the deep timbre of his voice. The conversation never lulled as they ate until their plates were clean, then sat for another hour by the fire, just enjoying the night together.

  He was the easiest man to be around.

  Plus, she was a little proud because she’d made it sixteen minutes of giving him a boner, and that was with almost no effort. He’d said she was the fun one, but she felt the exact same way about him.

  “You’re loosening up around me,” he told her as he cleaned up their plates.

  “It’s impossible not to,” she admitted softly. “I came here with a plan to keep my walls up, take things slow.”

  “Well, I don’t like walls.”

  “Surprises and walls,” she uttered softly.

  “Surprises and walls,” he agreed. “And Dead.”

  “I heard that!” Dead of Winter said from where he was setting up a table and camp chairs by his firepit.

  “Are you copying me?” Quickdraw asked, his booming voice echoing through the park.

  Dead set a pizza box in the middle of the table and lit a candle. “No.”

  Annabelle pursed her lips at the utter annoyance etched into every facet of Quickdraw’s face.

  “Can I borrow your lighter?” Two Shots said from his RV on the other side of Dead’s.

  Sure enough, there was another folding table and camp chairs, but this one had a bucket of fried chicken on it.

  “Seriously?” Quickdraw yelled to Two Shots.

  Remorseless in every way, Two Shots grinned, lifted his bottle of water in a silent toast, took a swig, then caught the lighter Dead tossed to him.

  “Pizza is a better aphrodisiac than fried chicken,” Dead announced conversationally to Quickdraw.

  “Nope.” Quickdraw blew out the candle on the table, and offered Annabelle his hand to help her out of the chair.

  “Nope, what?” Dead called.

  Quickdraw kissed Annabelle quick on the head and then brushed his fingertips on her lower back to get her moving. “Nope, I’m not getting into whatever dumb argument you’re starting.”

  “An occasional argument is healthy for relationships. I read it in one of them How to Keep a Woman for Dummies books.”

  “We aren’t in a relationship, I ain’t a woman, and stop pretending you can read,” Quickdraw barked out as he led Annabelle to his camper.

  “Look, we are having an argument right now!”

  “I hope they poison me next so I don’t have to deal with your shit anymore,” Quickdraw mumbled as they rounded the corner of his RV.

  “You don’t mean that!” Dead’s voice echoed through the park.

  “I think he really does mean it,” Two Shots disagreed.

  The second Annabelle was inside the camper, Quickdraw shut the door behind them. He stood there staring at her with his hands on his hips and a little private smile on his lips. Probably because she was giggling as quietly as she could.

  “They’re not funny,” he told her in a low voice.

  “They’re a little funny.”

  Quickdraw shook his head, and his grin turned into that crooked, handsome-boy smile that just about did her in.

  She hugged him so suddenly it surprised them both into stillness. She just stood there for a minute with her arms wrapped all tight around him, hoping and wishing and overthinking.

  Hoping he bucked well tomorrow. T
hat he would be proud of his performance. That they would be celebrating tomorrow.

  Wishing she could keep him.

  Overthinking the time that would soon come when she needed to tell him just how tethered he actually was to her, and to her wolf.

  “Just breathe.”

  Annabelle exhaled slowly and nuzzled her cheek against his chest.

  He slid his arms around her. “I like these kinds of surprises,” he murmured low.

  She looked up into those dark eyes of his and opened up a little more. “I like you.”

  His knuckle was so soft against her cheek, like a butterfly brushing its wing against her skin.

  “I really like you, too.”

  Chapter Thirteen

  He couldn’t take his eyes off her. Did she notice? She was a watcher like he was a watcher, but did she notice?

  God, she was so beautiful. All happy, open, and that pretty smile painted on her face all night. She was glowing tonight. Annabelle wasn’t tense and uncertain like she’d been when he’d picked her up from the airport. This was the woman he remembered, the woman he hadn’t been able to keep his mind off.

  She’d asked to borrow one of his T-shirts to sleep in tonight. That was a good thing, right?

  He didn’t know why he’d done it, but before she’d gone into the little bathroom to take a shower, he’d peeled off the shirt he was wearing and handed it to her just to see her reaction. No clean shirt. The animal in him wanted her to smell like him.

  She’d gotten this wicked little glint in her eye and pulled it up to her nose, smelled it like she smelled everything. and hugged it to her chest as she told him, “It’s perfect.” Then she disappeared into the bathroom.

  He wouldn’t sleep tonight.

  Before big events, he never slept the night before. Instead, he did what he was doing right now, sitting on the couch, watching old riding tapes of whatever cowboy had drawn him. He always did his research. Now, it was even easier since Cheyenne managed him and always put together one big video of the riders for him and Two Shots and Dead.

  Brandon Murphy would ride him tomorrow, and the next day Lee Bristol. Cheyenne had already sent the videos for both. She was a great manager.