Kiss My Boots (Coming Home #2)

I blow her a kiss, not giving one shit if anyone witnesses me acting like a lovesick fool. I am, so might as well own it.

She has just enough time to return the gesture before Leigh pulls her through the house—hopefully to get changed so we can get the fuck outta here when I finish this bullshit.

“Wasn’t here that last summer,” Maverick says, his gravelly voice, low and edgy. “But I heard about the depression my sister went through when you stopped takin’ her calls. She thought she hid that shit well from Clay, but there wasn’t shit that got past him. Each time she would email you and get an ‘undeliverable address’ response. When her letters to your folks’ house got sent back with a nasty scribble note sayin’ no one lived there by that name. Each fuckin’ time, I heard about it, and there wasn’t shit I could do to fix it. I was fightin’ my own demons, Tate, so don’t think I don’t get not being ready or whatever the fuck happened between you two, but if there’s even one little part of you that thinks you aren’t ready now, you need to end this instant.”

He doesn’t waste any time getting down to the point of his anger, which I’m thankful for, even if this is the last conversation I want to be having right now.

“There wasn’t ever a time I wasn’t fuckin’ ready for her,” I force through my tight jaw.

“Sure have a funny way of showin’ it, runnin’ off and disappearin’.”

He hasn’t talked to Clay, then. “I couldn’t fuckin’ do anything but disappear!”

With a fortifying breath, I start at the beginning and tell my tale again. By the time I finish my woe-is-me recap, Maverick’s looking at me like he’s seeing me for the first time. The protective-big-brother intimidation vibe that had been radiating off him snaps, vanishing instantly. The way he’s looking at me now, though, is just as unnerving.

With pride. Pure fucking pride.

Just like Clay did. The two men that I feared would never understand why I dropped off the face of Quinn’s world, giving me something I’m not sure I deserve without any hesitation at all.

Well, fuck me.

After a few minutes of silence, Maverick speaks. “You know why I left?”

I shake my head.

“The old man beat the shit out of me. Not just with his fists—he liked tearin’ down a man’s soul just as much as he liked hurtin’ his body. Put up with that shit for too long, and all I ever wanted to do was ride. Found out he didn’t support my ridin’ because my real father was a pro my mama’d slept with on the side. But I ran because I couldn’t face his shit anymore. It would have been him or me, but one of us would’ve fuckin’ killed the other, and honest to fuckin’ God, I’m not sure I woulda been able to go through with it. Took that woman in there—the one that owns my fuckin’ heart like it’s hers—and made sure I crushed her good enough she would have to let me go. Saw no other way and ran like a coward, not comin’ back until the old man died right along with my rodeo career. And you know what?”

I cough, playing off the shock of his words. “What’s that?”

“I’m not sure how long I woulda stayed gone either, if my career hadn’t been shot to hell and the old man hadn’t kicked it. I can tell you eventually I wouldn’t have been able to resist the urge because it’s fuckin’ impossible to resist the kind of pull you feel when you’re meant to be takin’ a different path than the one you’re on. Your life will always overcorrect your steps for you until you’re finally on the right one.”

Understanding dawning, I straighten off the porch railing and open my mouth, only Maverick beats me to it, speaking up again.

“I was wrong about you. Thought you were like me, but you’re no fuckin’ coward. You’ve been fightin’ for her every step you took, even if she didn’t know it. Not just her, but you fought for her family—my family—and that is somethin’ I’ll forever be indebted to you for. I wasn’t here to do it, Clay was doin’ his best, but you made sure a blow that would have crushed them all never came.”

“You don’t owe me shit. I did it because I love her, not for any other reason.”

I’m not sure who’s more shocked when the seriousness on his face vanishes, one big-ass smile, so like his sister’s, taking its place a moment later, him or me.

“You love my sister?”

My own smile grows, and I’m sure if Quinn was watching now she would be about to shit herself with curiosity. “Accordin’ to her, we’re gettin’ to know the adults we’ve become. You ask me, though, I’m just showin’ the only woman I have ever loved and will ever love that we’re the same people we’ve always been.”

He bellows out a loud bark of laughter at that. “Reckon that’s not gonna be a hardship for you, Tate.”

“You aren’t wrong,” I confirm, my mouth still tipped up in a grin.

“I told her before she decided what to do with you that she wouldn’t be able to resist the pull she’d feel. I said that based off what I remember of you two, young as fuck, fightin’ your feelin’s. Said that before I knew just how serious those feelin’s got when I left. Now I’m tellin’ you to enjoy the ride, because gettin’ that back is the best fuckin’ feelin’ you’ll ever experience.”

He holds his hand out and I don’t even think before slapping my palm against his and tightening my fingers around his grip. His hold on my hand is just as firm. His brow goes up before he gives one hell of a tug and pulls me into a backslapping hug.

“As pointless as it might be to say, I’m gonna do it anyway because it’s my fuckin’ duty as her brother: if you hurt her again I’ll fuckin’ kill you.”

I laugh, but I don’t say a word.

I don’t say a word because not only will I do whatever I have to do in order to make sure that never happens, but also because if I’m unfortunate enough to have it actually happen . . . I hope he does.





17


QUINN


“I Like the Sound of That” by Rascal Flatts

- -

“What did he say?” I whine for the millionth time since he pulled me out of my house and into his truck. He just smirks, the infuriating man, ignoring me like he has for the last hour.

I haven’t even been able to fully enjoy the fact that we’re curled up on his cozy couch watching a movie, even though that movie is Suicide Squad and I’ve wanted to watch it since I missed it in the theater. I can’t even enjoy my girl crush, Harley Quinn. Nope, none of that. All because the stupid, infuriating, stubborn-headed man next to me won’t just tell me what my brother said.

He’s just like Clay and Maverick, both of whom are keeping secrets about these little meeting-of-the-minds chats they’ve been having with my man.

Holy shit.

My man.

I look back at his profile. “Are you my man?” I blurt, not even giving one shit that I sound loony tunes.

“What?” He laughs, turning from the TV to finally pay me some attention.

“Well? Are you?”