Page 10 of Reckless Hearts

Every musclein my body screams at me, pleading, begging for rest, but Callie Harper still has me wrapped around her finger.

She’s out of Luke’s truck the second we pull into the lot. Cutoff jean shorts, a black T-shirt stamped with her family’s ranch logo, and those long, sun-kissed legs tucked into beat-up cowboy boots. She might’ve been gone from the ranch, but clearly, she never let her roots go.

All I want is to drag myself to the motel, soak in scalding water until I can’t feel my skin, and collapse on the too-hard mattress. My tendons ache as much as the rest of me, a reminder of today’s ride. I stuck the eight, but that bull did his best to break me apart.

That’s the thing about riding, the high hits like a drug. But when it wears off, you’re left bruised and broken. And still… we’d all do it again in a heartbeat.

Coming to a dive bar in the middle of nowhere is my personal idea of hell, but one look from Callie, and that bone-deep exhaustion turns into a paper-thin excuse.

If I’m not careful, people are going to figure out I’m nothing more than a puppy trailing after her which isn’t far from the truth. I’ve been waiting for her to come home since the day she left.

When it became obvious neither Colt nor I would agree to ride in the same truck, Callie suggested we could both cram into Luke’s or stay behind. Damn her for knowing exactly what to say to get us moving.

Even my toes hurt as I follow her toward the bar, two massive barn doors marking the entrance. A heavy dread settles in my gut, begging me to turn around. I’m tired. I’m sore. I just want to crash.

“You coming?” Callie turns back, her smile beaming at me, and my whole world stops for a second, before crashing back into me. She’s glowing, lit from within like she swallowed the sun, and somehow, her warmth reaches me from across the gravel lot. The ache in my bones eases.

God broke the mold with Callie Harper. Nothing and no one has ever come close.

I nod. Words are hard when she’s near. She reaches her hand back, fingers twitching like she’s waiting for mine.

Colt beats me to it.

He grabs her hand and spins her into him, her copper hair flying, laughter bursting out of her. Her wide eyes flick up to meet his, and that sharp twist in my gut returns.

He smirks at me over her shoulder, smug in a way that makes my fists clench. We’ve kept our distance for years, like opposite poles of a magnet. And right now? I could punch that look clean off his face.

Callie pauses at the door, waiting for me, and Colt’s forced to stop or let her go. He doesn’t say anything, but the look he throws me is loud:Back off.

She flashes me a mischievous smirk, the same one she used to wear when dragging us into trouble. My childhood was all scraped knees, stolen pie, and summer sun. And every golden memory has her in it.

Luke claps a hand on my shoulder. “You gonna keep staring or follow her in?”

I grunt, half-annoyed, half-grateful for the shove. He’s right. She’s finally here. No point wasting time reliving the past.

Gravel crunches beneath my feet as I catch up to them, half expecting Colt to argue, but he just keeps his hand on her shoulder, meeting my eyes in a truce that so long as she’s around, an agreement that whatever’s between us comes second to her.

The pounding twang of banjos makes me wince the second we step inside. A wall of heat and noise hits like a stampede, and my head’s already pulsing. Colt winces too, at least I’m not the only one suffering.

He’s forcing his signature dimpled smile. The one that makes people believe they’re close to him, while he’s actually maintaining his distance. Honestly, it’s a fucking talent.

Somehow, Callie slipped away from both of us, wiggling through the crowd. It’s packed in here, a mix between not much else to do and people wanting to see bull riders up close. I’ve been to enough of these to know what to expect. Men looking for a fight and girls with hopes that they may just be the one who ropes one of us in.

Can’t help but feel bad for them because I’ve never seen a cowboy settle down that way. We’re a different breed, drifting from one place to another. The idea of being tethered feels more like a noose than anything.

Colt’s chatting with fans, putting on that charming grin. Me? I shove through the crowd with half-assed apologies, determined to get to her.

By the time I do, there’s a line creased between her brows as she stares down some guy, her arms crossed in front of her. I’m about to step in when Colt materializes beside me, shoulder bumping mine.

“Let’s see what she does,” he says, almost fond. “Kinda feel bad for the guy.”

He doesn’t notice my double take, too focused on the showdown.

Whatever she says, it’s working. The guy’s ears turn red. He’s not having an easy go of it. He swipes off his hat and nods a few more times without making eye contact, then spins on his heels and vanishes into the crowd like a scolded dog.

I shake my head. “She always did know how to put someone in their place.”

Colt laughs. “We should know better than anyone.”

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