Two Shots Down (Battle of the Bulls Book 1) by T. S. Joyce

Author:T. S. Joyce [Joyce, T. S.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Wicked Willow Press
Published: 2020-08-30T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter Eleven

Two Shots couldn’t sleep. Not after what had happened today. Not after he’d seen the fear in Cheyenne’s face as Dead slammed into the fence she’d been sitting on.

Pretty girl. Tough girl.

She’d been in trouble, and he almost hadn’t made it to Dead in time to stop him. He knew that rage. Dead would’ve gone right through Wes Kaid to get to Cheyenne.

Dead’s bull was fucked up. Oh, he was good at hiding it. At controlling how he changed and keeping himself separated from humans, but his bull hated them. And that, ladies and gents, was exactly how Dead of Winter was the number two bull out of hundreds in this circuit—hatred.

That hatred had been aimed at Cheyenne today, and Two Shots couldn’t stop playing it on a loop over and over in his head.

Her room was just a couple floors above him, but going up there would be pointless. It was three in the morning, and she would be fast asleep.

He should let her sleep.

Big day tomorrow, and didn’t he know it. The pressure wasn’t the same anymore. It was bigger now. If he had a bad ride and dropped to number four bull, Cheyenne wouldn’t be representing him anymore, and the thought of her having to drop him made his guts churn.

No more talking on the team text. No more spending time with her. No more learning random things that made him even more protective of her. No more being there if she got in a dangerous spot again.

No more being close enough to absorb all the goodness she radiated. He was like a sponge, soaking up the good—the sound of her laughter, the country twang she got in her voice when she was being sassy. The pretty pink in her cheeks when she was mad at him and the boys for being dipshits. The way she’d posted up for him in that interview. Protective girl.

She hadn’t been wearing her pantsuit today. No siree, she’d been wearing tight little cut-off shorts that had showed off her curves. Little red tank top, exposing the perfect amount of cleavage that had kept his mind circling on how soft her breasts would feel in his hands.

Big day tomorrow.

He rolled over onto his other side in the hotel bed and checked his phone. Ten-ten at night and he’d been lying in bed for two hours already. He always did this—always tossed and turned the night before an event.

He sat up and ran his hands through his hair, opened up a text that had come from Dead outside of the loop.

There were several pictures of him and Cheyenne.

Unbeknownst to Two Shots, Dead had taken pictures of them at lunch before they’d gone to the Kaid Brothers Ranch. Dead and Quickdraw had sat on one side of the table, devouring roast beef sandwiches, the cannibal savages, with Cheyenne and him on the other side. The first picture Dead had sent him was of Two Shots holding out the chair for Cheyenne before they sat.

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