Page 16 of Burned & Bound
“Well,” I began with a sigh, “looks like I ain’t selling to West anytime soon. Harrison made it so he has to work the ranch for one year before he’s given ownership of the land and can sell.”
“What a load of fucking bullshit,” she spat. “He knew that boy would never come back—will never come back.”
“West is back at the ranch, Ma,” I told her. Those words stopped her mid-shuffle. Something sad crossed her expression.
“Oh, that poor boy,” she whispered.
“See, it’s reactions like that that tell me I’m missing out on something here,” I said. “Something fucking vital to me running my ranch.”
“Just go easy on him, Jackson,” Mom replied instead. “You’re so stubborn and hardheaded like your Dad was. I’ve seen you out there. I know you’re hard on those men—almost as hard as you are on yourself—but you can’t be that way with West.”
“And why not?” I demanded. Someone somewhere knew some shit that I wanted to know. It was ridiculous how hard it was to get Mickey and her to fucking talk about any of it.
“It’s nothing you need to work your handsome little self up about, Jackson,” she dismissed.
“It’s my ranch, Ma,” I reminded her. “I have a right to know if he’s about to fuck up my ranch.”
“Or maybe you just use a little bit of that empathy I worked so damn hard to teach you about.” Her dark eyes caught mine, full of fire and tempting me to argue with her.Fuck.I was a thirty-four year old man and that look still got me. “You don’t need to know what’s going on in someone else’s life to exercise empathy. Maybe you should try fighting less and show more compassion—scratch that. Youshouldtry fighting less and show more compassion. It wouldn’t hurt you. I know that ranch gets to you, and I know you ain’t happy there, but that don’t mean you can go around taking it out on others. And at the very least, you best not be taking it out on West McNamara. Do I make myself clear?”
“Yes, ma’am,” I muttered. I had no intention of listening to her. It wasn’t the first time we’d had a conversation like this. Mom thought I needed to be less grumpy and smile more. That thought held no appeal to me because then people would want to fucking talk to me. I spent roughly seven months a year putting on a smoke show to make people fucking happy—the happy gay bull rider that my agent insisted I be.
There was no way in hell I would spend my good months off playing into the same facade.
“Now, are you going to listen to your mama, or am I about to start selling photo opportunities with you?” She batted her lashes playfully, butI knew better. Magnolia Myles had no fucks to give. She would make me take pictures with every goddamn person in the place if I tested her.
CHAPTER 10
west
Iwent over thelist in my head.One time. Two times. Three times. Fifteen times.The horses needed stuff—real things for the stables—and both buildings needed repair. How the fuck they’d let this shit go so bad was beyond me.
I would’ve thought Jackson cared, considering they were his mom’s, but I would’ve thought a lot of things about him. Instead, he was just a grumpy fucking asshole putting on a show for money. And he hated me.
That singular fact meant he would make my life hell when I handed him a list of shit he had to buy. I seriously contemplated just buying everything and making him pay me back, but I couldn’t afford it. I didn’t have a bank account and I sure as fuck didn’t have the cash for it. Hell, I even thought about asking Mickey to handle it but knew better.
Jackson fucking Myles was the damn obstacle I needed to conquer.
He was the whole reason I fussed around at the end of the day. Horses were groomed, fed, and out to pasture as the sun set. I’d get them in soon enough after I finished hauling in hay.
What the hell was taking him so long anyway?
I wasornery as fuck. Anxiety clawed at my insides, making me want to drink and vomit simultaneously.Maybe not simultaneously but in some random fucking order.I didn’t like fighting him. I didn’t like fighting anyone.
I was so fucking tired of always fighting. Stopping and breathing wasn’t an option, but I sure as fuck wished it was.
A loud huff and neigh behind me drew me out of my thoughts. I turned to find Bailey hanging her head over the fence and smiled. Something about Bailey softened me. Calmed me. All the horses did.
“Feeling left out?” I asked. Dropping the bale I was lugging, I approached her while tugging off my gloves. “Now, I know you ain’t useful for moving hay, so what do you need to be over here for anyway?”
She pushed her muzzle into my hands as I went to pet her. Seventeen years and this girl still fucking loved me. I touched my forehead to hers.I didn’t deserve to be loved like that.
Wheels on the gravel made me look up. Jackson’s fancy fucking truck bounced with the dips in the road as he drove up toward the stables—no doubt to check me on. He did a lot of that. Was a real wonder how the hell he got anything else done with all the unwanted attention he gave me.
“I’ll be back,” I whispered to Bailey, stroking her velvety nose. “I’m going to go piss off the boss.”
Not a hard feat to accomplish. I always pissed off the boss.I steeled myself for the backlash.
“You and me need to talk,” I told him. His boots had barely touched the ground when I made my move to speak. It was easier to come out of the gate hot and hard rather than ease into it with him. He’d stomp my ass if I waited him out.