Page 140 of Bad Cowboy, Tennessee

“Sorry, love, but I’d do it a million more times.”

“Fuck you,” he whispered, leaning in to press his lips to mine in a kiss. My mouth felt dry, but his kiss was the most welcome thing I’d felt all day. “Is it all right? Your wound? Does it hurt? Because I can ask the nurse for more of the intravenous painkillers.”

“Can’t feel a thing right now,” I said. “Probably will once all the good stuff wears off, though.”

A stray tear broke off down his cheek. “It’s so good to hear you talk again.”

I hummed. “First time anyone’s been glad to hear my endless string of bullshit. Remember when you hated me?”

Max shook his head. “I never hated you. I didn’t trust you, but then I learned why I trust you more than any other person I’ve ever met.”

“Too good for me,” I said. I could feel my eyes closing again, and I knew the hospital drugs were meant to make me sleep, getting as much rest as I could. “Perfect for me.”

“I’m here,” Max said as I drifted off again. “I’ll always be here.”

Hours later, when I woke up next, everything was different.

My mind was crystal clear again, the effect of all the drugs wearing off fast.

And the pain had set in.

I was discharged from the hospital. My team drove me and Max back to my property, and the weight of all that had happened finally settled in.

“Sandlefield is going to be behind bars indefinitely,” Louie, one of my best security guys, informed me as we drove back. “That’s the one silver lining of this.”

“Tell me you’ve turned off your location tags finally, Max?” I asked, turning to look at him in the back seat next to me.

“They’re off. They’reextremelyoff. And they’ll never be turned on again.”

“Good.”

“And… I wanted to ask you,” he said, gingerly. “Is your former friend going to be a threat? To you?”

“Brody?” I said. “Let me put it this way. If Brody hasn’t said anything yet, I don’t think it’s likely he ever will. Especially after his DUI… I don’t think he wants to step into a minefield.”

“I’m so sorry,” Max said. “You lost one of your best friends.”

“I lost Brody a long time ago,” I told him. “The grieving process has been long, and fucked up. But he’s just another reason this place feels strange to be in now. The memory of all of that… it lives on this land, still. I can’t stand it.”

“I would hate it, too.”

I reached an arm out to stroke his hair. “Do you want to go home?”

He looked so tired it broke my heart, a pain even worse than the throbbing ache in my side. “I really want to go home,” he finally said.

I nodded. “We go back to my ranch, get your things, and we go home.”

When I said it, I realized that it felt right tome, too.

Tennessee was the only place I wanted to be.

When we were finally backin Bestens, hours later and after a plane ride where Max was no longer afraid to fly, it was his turn to sleep.

It was nine o’clock, the sun had set, and I told him theonlyresponsibility he had toward me now was to get a full night’s rest.

He said he’d rather sleep at his place than mine, so that’s where we went.

It was strange how a little barn house at the edge of a few acres of land felt so much better than my mansion, now. Whenhad that happened? When had this place started to feel so welcoming, sogoodto me?

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