Kiss My Boots (Coming Home #2)

“Let’s go get dried off and wait for this storm to pass. Sound good?”

I swallow the lump of emotion that his sentimental planning caused and nod. “That sounds perfect, Tate.”





16


TATE


“From the Ground Up” by Dan + Shay

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“He’s not gonna bite,” Quinn jokes over her shoulder, laughing softly under her breath when Maverick’s eyes narrow even more toward me.

“Not sure that his bite is what I’m worried about at the moment, Grease,” I tell her, right in her ear, which makes her shiver in my arms.

We just got to her house not even five minutes ago and, after another hot-as-fuck kiss on her front porch, walked inside to find her brother staring daggers at the two of us from his position just inside. Thankfully our clothes dried off a lot on our drive back to her house—but I wouldn’t mind getting this over with so we can get her changed and head to my place so I can do the same.

“You big baby,” Leigh huffs in exasperation, slapping Maverick’s shoulder playfully. “You’re the one who told her not to fight it, remember? Actually, if I recall correctly, you said fightin’ it would be pointless and what’s meant to happen is gonna happen no matter what. So, Cowboy, suck it up and let it be.”

Maverick finally looks away from where I’m standing, Quinn attempting to block me the best she can with her tiny body. Thankfully, with her standing guard the way she is, her brother can’t see the raging fucking hard-on I’ve been sporting since the kiss outside the front door, giving me the time I needed to get control of the situation.

“Just cuz I said it doesn’t mean I wanna see it.”

“That holds no logic whatsoever, honey,” Leigh continues, smiling up at him.

“Doesn’t matter if it does or not,” he mutters sullenly.

She rolls her eyes at him and gives both of us her attention, ignoring the giant daggers of anger Maverick’s eyes are shooting in her direction now that she’s clearly discounting his feelings.

“It’s good to see you again, Tate. It’s been a long damn time,” she greets, playfully shooing Quinn away and wrapping her arms around me in a friendly hug.

“I’d say too long, Leigh. Feels damn fine to be back.” I look at Quinn before finishing. “Like comin’ home.”

Quinn blushes, much to my surprise, as I’m not used to seeing her do that. I give her a wink before turning back to Leigh. “It’s good to see you, too, and congratulations on y’all’s engagement,” I tell her earnestly.

Maverick grunts.

“Would you stop?” Leigh jokingly snaps over her shoulder before stepping away from me and whipping her head toward him. She must have mouthed something to him, because his scowl gets just a little bit harsher.

“Soooo . . .” Quinn sings. “What are y’all doin’ here?”

Maverick grunts again and Leigh sighs, clearly knowing her man well enough to realize that any attempt to pacify him at this point will just fall on deaf ears. She looks back at Quinn and me and gives us a wink before walking back to his side. His arm immediately comes up and around her shoulders to pull her back against his front.

Guess he’s not too big on sharing the attention of any female in his life.

“After your call this mornin’, I couldn’t keep the big guy away. He said someone needed to be here to make sure everything was all fine and dandy. With Clay busy dealin’ with the vet check and the farrier down at the stables all day, he felt it was his brotherly duty and all that.”

Quinn snaps her fingers. “Shoot, I forgot about that. I needed to ask him to have the farrier look at Daisy’s back shoe—she’s been actin’ like it’s botherin’ her.”

“Already took care of,” Maverick grumbles. “First horse Rodney looked at when he got here. Nothin’ wrong with that high-maintenance princess. Trimmed her hoof wall and now she’s prancin’ around like the queen of the stables again.”

Quinn barks out a laugh. “That’s my girl.” She turns and smiles up at me. “Daisy’s the best horse you’ll ever see. None of those high-dollar thoroughbreds of Clay’s come close.”

“Don’t let him hear you say that.” Leigh cackles. “Especially since these ‘high-dollar thoroughbreds’ have a pedigree that Daisy damn sure doesn’t.”

“Doesn’t matter that she’s not special on paper,” Quinn huffs, immediately protective of her beloved horse. “She’s still the best damn thing in the stables.”

“You just say that because she’s yours.” Leigh laughs.

Something tells me this is a long-standing debate among the close-knit bunch. Instead of dwelling on it as another thing I don’t know about Quinn because of the time we lost, I vow to make sure I can soon be one of the people all the Davises consider one of their own, soon enough—never missing moments that build jokes like this again.

Pushing the thought aside, I look over at Maverick and attempt to engage him in conversation. With any luck, I can get him to calm the fuck down long enough to have the same conversation I had with Clay already. I probably should have just called them both over when I talked to Clay, but if facing one of them is intimidating, together they’re a menacing force if you’re on the wrong side.

“How many Thoroughbreds is he workin’ with these days?” I finally ask Maverick, using the topic as a bridge to broach the subject I hope to discuss but also because I’m genuinely interested to hear about the changes here at the Davis ranch since I’ve been gone—seeing as it means maybe all that time I forced myself to stay gone, without the woman I love in the process, I also kept them safe from my father and in turn gave them the time they needed to thrive.

“Got two mares of his own right now, but only one was inseminated in February. Savin’ his breeder mare until he can find the right stallion to pair her with, which is why she’s not pregnant right now. Just got a new stallion, Major, a few weeks ago, bringin’ Clay’s total count up to ten. With the retired ones he’s rescued, though, he’s really up in the twenties. You’d have to ask Clay about the stud end of things here and how many mares he accepted to breed earlier this year. Clay’s focus is on the stallions with some of the most impressive pedigrees around, so I wouldn’t be shocked if that number was up there due to the fact there’s a high demand for his horse’s lineage. He works his boys hard, but he’s selective about how many he accepts, booked full on a few quickly so he doesn’t breed them irresponsibly.”

Out of the corner of my eye I see the girls look at him in shock. Hell, I’m just as shocked that he answered me—at length, moreover—and that he didn’t seem to mind doing so. Maybe it’s because talking shop pulls his focus off the fact that his sister’s getting hot and heavy with the person he knows hurt her once. Either way, I’ll keep this shit going if it means his anger is distracted.