Page 110 of Risking it for the Cowboy

“And they had this picture booth set up where we could put on accessories and we both wore crowns and he said I was just as pretty as you were in that old photo from when you won Miss Lone Star and I ate about a hundred cookies and—”

“Hey there, you’re gonna get me in trouble, Daze.” He chuckled. “It was more like, well, four or five cookies—”

“Eight cookies and some of them were shaped like horses and one looked just like Unicorn … Momma?”

A pause, then a muffled sniffle. Was there commotion in the background? Voices?

“That sounds like so much fun, sweet girl,” Charlie said in a cheery voice. Overly cheery. “I’m so glad you had a great time.”

T.R.’s nape prickled.

“Everyone thought he was my dad. They all kept saying how cool he was when he got up on stage and played guitar with the band when their guitarist had to go to the bathroom.”

Charlie forced a laugh. “I bet he was amazing, wasn’t he?”

T.R. rolled up his window, frowning, buffering some of the sound. There were definitely voices in the background. “Miss Bradford, when you’re ready.” A man’s voice spoke and the faint sound of walkie-talkie static followed.

“Charlie?” T.R. bit out, alarmed.

“Hey, Thad. Would you mind taking me off speaker?” Charlie asked, still overly cheery. And those sounded a lot like police walkie-talkies. Shit. “I have a, a something I want to ask you. A surprise, for Daisy, and we all know if she hears, it won’t be a surprise—”

He snagged the phone out of Daisy’s grip and thumbed the phone off speaker as he swerved to the shoulder, kicking up gravel, and threw his truck out of gear.

“Why’d we stop?” Daisy asked.

He lifted the phone to his ear, jaw pumping. “Talk to me, Flower Girl.”

“Daisy can’t come home right now,” poured out of her. “Please don’t bring her home yet. I’m so sorry all this baggage. I never wanted you to be sucked into this—”

“What’s wrong?” He clenched the parking brake and shoved out the truck door into the dusk, turning to point at Daisy and pasting on a grin. “Stay put, girlie. Hear me? Just need a minute.” He crunched around the back of the truck and muttered into the speaker. “What the hell is going on? Are you okay? Are those police?”

Fuck, he knew they were.

“Yes. There was an incident this evening and, I—”

“Baby, I’m coming to get you if you don’t be straight with me.” He began to stalk back to the driver door, noticing Daisy craning over her seat to glance out the window at him, worried.

He forced a smile on his face and held up a finger for one more minute.

“Don’t bring her here. Promise me. Thad, promise me.” He slowed, anger sizzling gunpowder through his blood.

“Jason showed up. Didn’t he?”

That bastard had … been emboldened today! By Charlie pushing back! He’d actually violated the restraining order!

“Did he put his hands on you? Charlie, fuck’s sake, tell me what’s going on. I knew I shouldn’t’a left you alone. Babe, are you hurt?”

“I’ll be okay,” she hastened, which sounded exactly like the bastard had done more than touch her. “Thad, I’m okay. I really am.”

And goddammit her placating wasn’t working because his fist was clenched so hard his nails were going to bite into his palms.

“The police are here, and because it’s university property now, so are the university police. I need to finish giving them all a statement. Can you take her back to the farm? Heart just got home and said you can bring her there. I just, with the broken glass, I don’t want her walking in here because I c-can’t clean it up until they take pictures and I don’t want her to see our little bubble like this … tainted…”

Broken glass? His mind saw red.

“If there’s one hair out of place on my woman’s head,” he growled. “Jason’s losing a goddamned hand and to hell with the consequences—”

“Don’t say that,” she begged. “Thad, can I trust you? I need to know Daisy’s in good hands. I need you to be the man that Jason isn’t.”