Page 71 of Bad Cowboy, Tennessee

Max Baby Blue

I’m awake, fuckface. Front door’s open.

See? You just leave your door unlocked for anybody to walk in.

You’re not just anybody. But good point. Maybe I should lock my door to you more than anyone else.

You like me too much to do that. See you in a sec.

I was only halfway down the dirt driveway when I saw the old white Subaru coming down the driveway. It was the car Lily was borrowing from her parents while she was here. The car pulled over beside me and I stopped again, and both of us rolled down our windows.

“Howdy, you,” I said.

She gave me a smile. Her eyes looked tired, and her long hair was up in a bun. “Fancy seeing you here.”

“Max needs help with something. You hanging in there with the wedding stuff?”

She pulled in a long breath. “T-minus 24 hours, just about,” she said. “Wedding is tomorrow.”

“Shit.”

“I need a gallon of coffee.”

“You headed to go meet your Bridezilla?”

Lily nodded. “Today is jam-packed. Rehearsal dinner later, but Casey is melting down, so I’m on the way to her house already.”

“She’s not Bridezilla, she’s like… Bride-flying-dragon, complete with breathing flames.”

After a moment she squinted at me, a dubious look on her face. “You’re going easy on Max, right?”

“Of course I am,” I said.

Her look got even more disbelieving. “My brother is a sweetheart. Don’t change that, okay?”

I bit the inside of my cheek.

I wanted to hate the fact that everyone’s first instinct about me was that I would fuck things up for any person who got near me.

But isn’t it true? The same fear I have in all my dreams?

“Just helping him set something up.”

She gave me a smile and a little wave before continuing on her way. My heart felt as heavy as an anvil when I saw the way Lily could still look at me like that—trust me like that—even after everything that had happened.

Too good to be anywhere near me. Just like her brother.

When I got to Max’s front door and swung it open, I found him inside the barn, pulling on a tight white T-shirt.

The fucker was clearly trying to torture me. The shirt fit snug against his muscles, and he looked like he was an off-duty actor from a superhero flick. Boy-next-door golden-brown hair, still a little messed up from sleep, a tight shirt like that, and shorts that hugged his ass.

And you liked coming in my mouth.

You liked it so fucking much.

“Knock much?” he asked.

“You told me it was open.”

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