Chapter 16

That was a mistake.

But telling herself she never should’ve invited Cole to dinner didn’t stop Shawnee from leaning against the door frame and enjoying the view as he strolled back to his own trailer, Katie toddling along at his heels. Lord, the man had a set of shoulders. And arms. And a whole lot more that wasn’t nearly as apparent under his usual long-sleeved western shirts. That snug blue polo shirt wasn’t keeping any secrets.

Huge mistake.

Sure, she’d noticed Cole before. But now she was aware of him. She knew herself, she knew her body, and this was a form of heatstroke that was not going to be cured by a few glasses of sweet tea. Not when she had to be in close proximity to the energy source every single day. She’d just get warmer and warmer, until—

“He’s getting it from you!”

She jumped at the accusation, smacking her funny bone against the door frame as she whipped around to find Hank glaring at her from behind her trailer.

“What are you doing here?” she demanded, rubbing the sting from her elbow.

“Me and the Leses went out for dinner. I just brought them back, and I saw Cole sneaking out of your trailer, looking all smug and satisfied.”

Oh hell. Just what they needed, Hank getting ideas. “He wasn’t sneaking. And we weren’t having sex.”

“Duh.” Hank rolled his eyes like an eighth grade girl. “He is not your type.”

And even though she’d been telling herself the same thing, Shawnee bristled. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“You date guys like J.P., who just wanna have some fun. Cole doesn’t do fun.” Hank braced one hand on the side of the trailer, the other on his hip. “But you’ve been feeding him…and holding out on the rest of us. That is cold.”

Shawnee felt her face go hot. Seriously? So what if she’d been caught trafficking in meatloaf? She worked up a powerful glare. “I did not hire on to be the camp cook.”

“Then why does he get homemade rolls?”

Oh geezus. Now Hank was gonna pout. She folded her arms. “We have a deal. He’s helping me out with, um, my horses.”

“More like one particular jackass.” Hank narrowed his eyes, his gaze uncharacteristically shrewd. “If you ever have a problem when Cole’s not around, just let me know.”

The offer, and the lump it raised in Shawnee’s throat, caught her off guard. Hank was immature, sometimes a total dipshit, but once in a while he surprised you.

Then he waggled his eyebrows. “And I’m really good at casual, if you need someone to pick up where J.P. left off.”

“Oh gah!” She actually gagged at the thought. “Stop before you make my brain puke. You’re Melanie’s little brother.”

Hank laughed, unfazed. “Fine. I’ll clean your horse trailer, or wash your pickup. There must be something…”

She started to shake her head, but then she thought about how they’d all come to the team roping to cheer her and Mariah on. How every one of them had made a point of wandering by to say, “Good job” or “Nice roping” afterward, while she was putting up her horse. Would it kill her to show a little hospitality in return?

“Okay, fine. Tuesday’s an off day. If everybody chips in a few bucks for groceries, I’ll make a big ol’ batch of Texas red.” She could grab a bushel of that excellent corn at the farm stand on the way out of town in the morning, and whip up some corn bread to go with the chili. “Good enough?”

Hank wrapped both arms around his belly and squeezed, grinning. “You are my hero.”

“Say that after you’ve chopped all the onions and peppers. Now go away.”

Hank did, hustling to his car as if he was afraid she’d change her mind. Shawnee leaned against the doorframe again and sighed, her troubled gaze tracking over to Cole’s trailer. Hank was a pain in the ass, but he was also right.

Cole wasn’t a casual guy. And he sucked at letting go. He’d practically said so when he’d admitted how he’d let that girl keep using him. Who blurted that out over dinner? The way he kept people at arm’s length wasn’t disinterest, or coldness. It was pure self-preservation. He had no internal walls behind the stony facade. Everything he felt was right there, exposed and vulnerable.

Which meant Shawnee had to keep her hands off, despite knowing Cole was aware right back. If Cole did crawl into her bed—her breath hitched at the thought of getting her hands on everything under that snug blue polo shirt—he would very possibly want to stay. Maybe forever.

And forever was one of many things she didn’t have to offer.

* * *

They started out early the next morning and drove until evening, into the heart of Texas’s hill country. Half an hour short of their destination, the audiobook Mariah and Shawnee had been listening to ended. They rode in silence for a few morose moments.

“Do we feel more cultured now?” Shawnee asked.

“Not really,” Mariah said. “Mostly we feel like people suck and civilization is doomed.”

“Are we done with your summer reading list, or do I have to suffer through more of this depressing shit?”

“We’re done.” Mariah pumped a fist in celebration. “Next road trip is gonna be all sexy guys and smart-ass girls.”

“Now that’s my kind of book. I could use a good laugh.”

Mariah contemplated the scenery for a couple of miles before asking, “Does it really suck, having your dad around?”

“Ace?” Shawnee corrected automatically. “Not so far, but he hasn’t tried to con me into or out of anything yet.”

“He’s scared of Cole.”

Or he realized Cole couldn’t be charmed, and hadn’t figured another way around him yet. Plus he was biding his time while his shoulder healed. Ace wouldn’t make his move until he had one foot out the door. Usually, Shawnee would have been on pins and needles, waiting for the chips to fall, but her conversation with Cole had actually helped. Go figure.

Or maybe Cole was just turning into the bigger problem.

“Do you miss J.P.?” Mariah asked.

Shawnee thought about it, then sighed. “I wish it hadn’t ended that way. I may have lost a friend, and that sucks.”

“But you knew it was going to end?”

“Well, yeah.” And all of the sudden, she found herself treading delicate moral ground. Her lifestyle was well and good given her situation, but Mariah was sixteen years old with the whole world waiting for her. Shawnee couldn’t even remember what that felt like. She shook off the pang of self-pity and concentrated on choosing her words carefully. “J.P. is a great guy, and we had a lot in common, but neither of us was looking for a long-term relationship.”

“Because of his age?”

“Not really. He’s very mature.”

“People say that about me,” Mariah said. “They call me an old soul.”

The edge of triumph in her voice triggered alarm bells. She had a stubborn set to her jaw, as if they were having an argument. One Shawnee had lost before knowing she was in it. “Don’t be in such a rush to grow up,” she said, grasping at a feeble straw. “I guarantee, it’s not as much fun as you think it’s gonna be.”

Mariah’s chin came up and her eyes flashed. “I can handle it.”

Maybe, but like the inspirational poster in Shawnee’s doctor’s office said, You don’t know how strong you really are until strong is your only option. She prayed Mariah never needed that kind of strength because, truthfully, it wasn’t all that gratifying to prove how much you could bear.

It was just really fucking tiring.