Page 32 of Hung Up
“What does she do?”
“She helps my brother run the ranch.” She turns to look at me, surprised. “She used to race horses, but once our father died and Nash had to take over, she quit so she could help him.”
She surprises me by putting a gentle hand on my arm. “I’m sorry for your loss. I lost my mom, too, so I know how it feels.” She lets her hand fall away. “That’s very noble of her, though. To give up a career like that so she can help.”
“I feel bad sometimes that I didn’t step up when he needed me,” I admit with a whisper. “I feel bad that it fell on Addie.”
“Hey.” Faith steps in front of me, making sure I can’t keep walking. “Don’t do that to yourself. It’s a shame that it fell on the older siblings, but I’m guessing you were too young to make that kind of decision. And even if you weren’t, it’s not fair for any parent to make their child feel like they need to throw their life and dreams away to help them continue with their dream. That’s why you’re doing what you’re doing: they wanted you to do what you wanted. Not what they wanted.”
“Nash sometimes makes me feel bad about not spending more time at home,” I tell her. “And Addie and my mother hate that I ride. They refuse to come watch me, won’t even turn on the television to watch my rides. Stevie is the only one who really supports me.”
Faith gives me a small smile and reaches for my hand, giving it a gentle squeeze that makes my breath hitch. “She’s not the only one.”
Just as quickly as she had grabbed my hand, she drops it, spins on her heel, and begins to scan the booths again. I trail behind her, watching the way her eyes catch on certain clothing items, how she seems to love the necklaces but doesn’t care so much for the rings, that all four times we pass the boots, she hesitates and stares at the white pair, and I notice she also keeps eyeing up that tan cowboy hat.
“About last weekend,” she begins once we’re out of the convention center and into a more quiet, secluded space. “First off, I just want you to know I don’t regret it.”
Oh, thank god.“Neither do I.”
“Okay, good, good.” Faith sets her thumbnail between her teeth for a moment before she sighs. “I just…. I need to make sure you’re okay with this.”
“‘This’ as in…?”
“Us sleeping together,” she tells me before following up with, “exclusively.”
I give her a smile that I’m praying doesn’t appear too hopeful and relieved. “Of course I am.”
“No one can know.” My eyebrows rise. “I don’t want anyone knowing about our…arrangement. Some things are just better left private.”
I guess it’s our little secret.
“I’m great at keeping secrets.” The look on her face lets me know she doesn’t believe me. “Okay, fine. I hate keeping secrets. But for you? For this? I can keep my lips sealed.”
“And one more thing.” She takes a deep breath before squaring her shoulders. “I know it goes without saying, but I just want to make sure you know this arrangement of ours is over once the season is over. For obvious reasons.”
It takes everything within me to keep the disappointment off my expression as I force a nod. “For obvious reasons.”
Faith gives me a smile and a gentle tap on the shoulder before she walks away, leaving me to my thoughts. But before I can let myself get too caught up in my head—or the excitement over the fact that Faith Thompson just agreed to sleep with me exclusively and the disappointment over knowing there’s a time limit now looming over me—I decide to go back into the convention center.
It’s time I make sure my girl looks the part.
12FAITH
MILWAUKEE
a gift from the cowboy
The good newsis that Jesse agreed. I don’t know what I would’ve done if he said he didn’t want to continue with our arrangement or if he said he wasn’t able to keep it a secret. I haven’t been able to get that night out of my mind; his strong hands, his perfect lips, and how good he was with his tongue.
Jesse Hayes really is a master in the sheets.
And I know I’ve only scratched the surface—and I can’t wait to dive deeper.
I’m walking into the arena, my heels clicking on the cement floor as I try to find the media room for today. Deciding an hour early would suffice rather than three, I went and got myself a coffee, went to the Art Museum, and even popped into the Milwaukee Public Market. It was a day for me—to explore and to be by myself for a few hours without the stress of work looming over me—and it ended up being exactly what I needed.
Finding my designated work space for the night, I turn the handle and walk inside. It’s a quaint room, nothing too excitingor special: a table with four chairs, a television on the wall, and a small love seat in the corner. But what catches my eye is the box and bouquet of flowers on the table—in a vase, this time. I set my bag down and approach the table, grabbing the folded piece of paper atop the box.
Since you’re sticking around, I figured it was time you looked the part.
