Page 51 of Roping My Rival

Warren stares at the board we worked out together this morning without any arguing. I picked all the biggest money events, and if we win or place in the top three at every event, I could have half of what Henry wants. I paid Darla’s bill until July, and if I leave the boarding house and live in my truck for the summer, I’ll save almost a grand. More if I don’t need a room until the cold weather.

Then I have to hope the Burkes hire me for something over the winter, or I can find something local that’s not casual. This can work. I know it. By the end of the year, Henry can be off my back for good, and maybe I can think about a real life.

Maybe even with Warren.

“Yes, I’m sure. My sister is used to me being away for months at a time in the summer, and I need to pad the bank account for the winter.”

Warren clears his throat. “Ah, about the bank account. I was thinking we should have a joint account for the winnings. It’s just easier for me. One check, deposit it, and we can even run the expenses through it.” He bites at his lip, and I’m instantly on guard. “If cash flow is tight for you, then you won’t need to worry until the next payout. It will all be there.” His brow furrows as he rushes on like he wants to cut off all my objections before they happen. “Before you say anything, it’s not charity. It’s really easier for me. I can read and do things, but it’s slower and more stressful when it’s not Jesse waiting. I don’t want to hold you up if you have things you need to take care of.”

I suppose it was just a matter of time before he did something more than trailer my horse home or introduce me to extended family that feeds me for free. I want to fight him on it, but he’s so damn honest about why this is good for him, I can’t possibly tell him to fuck off over it.

“How would you know I’m not taking more than my share?”

Warren doesn’t miss a beat, and it almost brings me to my knees.

“I trust you.”

Fuck me, why does he have to be so good? How has the world not hardened him yet? After all the things he shared that he went through before being adopted, I went back to my room and thought about it for a long time. At least I had some happy memories with my parents as a child to hold on to. Warren was robbed of everything and forced to grow up far too soon.

He should be hard and rough because of it all.

He shouldn’t trust me so easily.

Those warm eyes blink and stare, honest and true. He trusts me. Just like that. After how I’ve treated him, he still trusts me.

“You barely know me, Warren.”

“True. But I’ve seen you with your horse…and your sister. That matters.” Warren licks his lips, and my body heat rises. “Plus, you’re my partner. If I can’t trust you, this will never work.”

He’s right, of course. A partnership of any kind needs to be built on trust. I know he won’t cross me or use me and yet…

“If it’s easier for you, then I’m okay with it.” Not completely, but I’ll try it.

Warren blows out a breath. “Okay, good. I’ll get us signed up for all these rodeos then.” His smile is so fucking shy I want to crush him to my chest and never let him go. “It might take me a while, so if you want to take a walk or something, we can deal with the bank stuff after.”

“Is there anything I can help with?”

“Not really. It’s all online, and since I pay from the school’s account, it’s a one-man job.”

Warren settles in the desk chair, and I watch as he slowly pecks on the keyboard to sign in. He even sticks his tongue out a little while he concentrates.

“Okay. I’ll be back a little later.”

“Sounds good.” He smiles at me before refocusing, and I even smile back.

After leaving Warren at the desk, I wander to the training ring. Jesse is at the back of the ring, fighting with a gate. After a wave, I jump over and jog over to him.

“Do you need help?”

He laughs before he sighs. “I didn’t think I did when I started, but I sure could use help now.” He motions to the next section. “I was trying to fix the latch when the other side broke, and now I can’t get the dang thing to stay anywhere.”

After going to the other side of the metal fence panel, together we wrestle the entire piece off and lean it against the rest of the rails.

“The weld here broke, Jesse.” Running my finger along the connection that failed, Jesse leans in for a closer look.

“Well, shit. How did that happen?”

“It’s a double swinging gate. Not uncommon, especially if it gets bumped by a truck unloading or is always used the same way. Is it original?”