Chapter 21

When we got to the garage, Jessie and Heather were already in the truck waiting for us. Max and I hopped in the car, and the four of us headed out on our advantage for the day.

The drive to Claremore, OK, took over an hour. During the drive, conversations flowed between us. Heather and I sat in the back seat, and she asked questions about the house and my pregnancy. I caught bits and pieces of the guy's conversation; Max asked many questions about the goats and their care, and they talked sports.

We pulled into the rodeo grounds, and Max looked around weirdly. I say, "Max, what are you thinking about now?"

He solemnly says, "I had no idea that this many people owned a pickup truck and wore cowboy hats."

We all busted out laughing at his comment. Jessie tells us he will let us off at the gate and then park where we didn't have to walk so far. 

Heather, Max, and I go through the gates, find a bench, and wait for Jessie. You can tell Max is taking in his environment and is people-watching those around him. 

Max tells us that despite growing up in Florida and living in California for many years, he has never seen anything like this in person. 

After 15 minutes, Jessie met up with us, and we started to walk to the stables where Jessie could check in on the horses and riders.

The smell once we entered the stables was a bit much, and I looked at Max's face to see if he felt any discomfort, and he showed none. So, I took a deep breath and stopped worrying that he would hate this today.

Once Jessie had checked everything that needed to be done, he introduced Max to the riders, trainers, and hands that worked for the family. 

We all said our goodbyes, wished everyone luck today, and headed to the grandstand area.

The scent of dust and leather filled the warm air as the four of them stepped through the towering metal gates of the Will Rogers Rodeo. The rhythmic thud of boots against dirt, the distant whinny of horses, and the occasional burst of applause from the grandstands painted a scene straight out of an old Western movie.

"This is… a lot," he admitted, turning to Mia, who walked beside him with an easy confidence. She looked completely at home here, her breezy dress blowing in the wind, her cowboy hat tipped just low enough to shadow her beautiful face from the sun.

"I told you it'd be different from anything you've been to before," she said, grinning as she took his hand. Her palm was soft in his calloused hand, but her touch was gentle, and he never wanted to let go. "You nervous?"

Max huffed a small laugh. "Nervous? No. Just… overwhelmed. I mean, a man is riding a bull over there." 

He pointed toward the main arena, where a cowboy clung to a bucking beast. His free hand sliced through the air as the bull twisted and spun beneath him. The buzzer sounded, and the crowd erupted in cheers as the rider managed to hold on for eight full seconds.

Mia chuckled, leading him toward the stands. "That's the main event, sweetheart. Best part of the night."

He arched a brow at him. "You ever do that?"

"I'm not that crazy," she admitted with a smirk. "Steer wrestling and team roping, sure. But bull riding? I like my bones intact."

He followed her up the wooden steps, his heart thudding—not from the crowd's energy but from the fear of falling on the steps and making a scene.

They sat close, this body's heat radiating against her side as the rodeo continued. Barrel racers thundered through the arena, their horses kicking up dust clouds as they whipped around the barrels. The sun dipped lower, casting a golden glow over the fairgrounds, making everything seem more magical.

"This is fun," he admitted after a while, leaning into her slightly.

"Told you so," she teased.

Max rolled his eyes but smiled. "So what happens after the rodeo?"

Mia's gaze darkened just a bit, a flicker of something unreadable passing over her face before she reached up and tilted the brim of his hat. "Depends," she murmured. "You wanna dance?"

His breath caught. "There's dancing?"

"Sure is. There's a live band right over by the stables. Two-step, slow dancing, whatever you want." 

She traced a slow circle with her thumb against the inside of his palm, her voice dipping into something smoother and softer. "And I'd like to be in your arms. We can stand still if you're up for it and don't have to move."

Max swallowed hard. He wasn't sure if it was the electric buzz of the rodeo or how Mia looked at him, but suddenly, he wanted nothing more than to be close to her.

"I think I'd like that," he whispered.

Her answering smile was slow, easy. "Then let's go."

As she led him away from the grandstands, his heart raced for an entirely different reason than before.

Tonight wasn't just about the rodeo.

Tonight was about them.

The distant roar of the rodeo faded into the background as Max followed Mia toward a string-lit pavilion near the stables. The band had already started playing—a slow, twangy country tune that drifted through the warm summer air, mingling with the scent of hay and leather.

A makeshift dance floor stretched before them, wooden planks worn smooth from years of cowboy boots sliding across them. 

Couples swayed in rhythm, the glow of the fairy lights casting a golden hue over everything. It felt like stepping into a dream he wasn't ready to wake from.

"Are you sure you're up for this?" Mia asked, her lips quirking in a teasing way.

Max laughed nervously, glancing at the couples twirling effortlessly around them. "I've never done this before."

"That's alright." She turned to face him fully, taking his hand in hers. "You just gotta trust me." 

He looked up at her, his pulse skipping a beat. His calloused fingers curled around hers, warm and steady, and his other hand rested lightly on her waist. The feel of him so close and the scent of his cologne—woodsy and faintly smoky—sent a shiver down her spine.

Mia led him in a slow sway from side to side, pressing their bodies against one another. His touch was gentle but firm, and each step swayed as if they'd done this a hundred times before.

"See? You're a natural," she murmured, his breath warm against her ear.

She let out a breathy laugh. "Pretty sure you're just making me look good."

He chuckled, pulling her just a little closer. "Maybe. But you do look good."

The music slowed, the melody curling around them like a lullaby. Mia felt the tension in her shoulders melt away, lost in the warmth of Max's embrace. She rested her head lightly against his chest, feeling the steady beat of his heart beneath her cheek.

For a moment, the rest of the world disappeared. It was just them—moving in sync under the soft glow of the lights, his arms wrapped around her like she belonged there.

"Mia?" His voice was quiet, almost hesitant.

She tilted her head up, her breath catching as she saw how he looked at her. His blue eyes were darker now, and the teasing glint had been replaced with something more profound that made her stomach flutter.

I've wanted to do this all night," he admitted.

Before she could ask what this meant, he leaned in, brushing his lips against hers in the softest, slowest kiss she'd ever known. It wasn't hurried or demanding—it was a question, a promise, and she had her answer when she kissed him back.

The music played on, but neither of them heard it.

Because in that moment, nothing else mattered.

Just the two of them, dancing under the rodeo lights.

The truck rumbled softly as it rolled down the dark country road, its headlights cutting through the night. Crickets chirped outside, blending with the hum of the tires against the pavement. Mia sat in the backseat beside Max, her head still spinning from the night—Max's hands on her waist as they danced, the way he had looked at her right before he kissed her, like she was the only thing in the world that mattered.

Jessie's brother was at the wheel, one hand resting lazily on the steering column as he chuckled about something with his wife, Heather, who sat beside him. They were talking, but Mia wasn't listening.

Her whole focus was on the man beside her—the way his arm stretched along the back of the seat, fingertips just barely grazing her shoulder, the way he occasionally glanced at her from beneath the brim of his hat, his knee bouncing just slightly like he was holding something back.

She wasn't sure what made her do it, maybe the lingering magic of the rodeo or the warmth still coursing through her from their dance, but she shifted a little closer, closing the space between them.

Max caught the movement immediately. Without a word, he let his arm drop from the seat, settling quietly and effortlessly around her shoulders. His warmth seeped into her, and she felt the slightest sigh escape her lips.

Jessie glanced in the rearview mirror, his voice light but laced with warning. "You getting comfortable back there, Max?"

Mis rolled her eyes. "Jessie."

Max chuckled but didn't move his arm. "Just making sure your sister doesn't get cold."

Heather snorted softly, shaking her head. "Leave them alone, Jessie." She turned slightly, sending Mia a knowing smile before settling back into her seat.

Mia felt her cheeks heat, but she didn't pull away. If anything, she let herself lean just a little more into Max's side, resting her head lightly against his shoulder. He smelled like leather and cedarwood, with the faintest trace of sweat from the long night. It should've been overwhelming, but instead, it was grounding. Familiar.

"You have fun tonight?" Mia's voice was low, meant just for him.

He nodded, a soft smile tugging at his lips. "I did."

She paused, then said, "Me too." His fingers traced an idle pattern along her shoulder, barely there, but enough to send a shiver down her spine.

He turned his head slightly, looking up at her. "Think you'll ever take me again to a rodeo?"

Her gaze dropped to his, her voice full of something she couldn't quite name. "Babe, I'd take you anywhere you want to go."

His heart stuttered, and for a moment, he thought about kissing her again, right in the back of her brother's truck. But instead, he just smiled, settling back into his side, feeling the slow, steady rise and fall of her breathing.

Outside, the night stretched on, the stars shining bright overhead. And in the quiet of the truck, with Max's arm wrapped around her, Mia knew one thing for sure—something between them had changed tonight.

And there was no going back.

The truck rolled to a stop in front of Jessie's house, its headlights sweeping across the wraparound porch before Jessie cut the engine. The sudden silence left nothing but cicadas humming in the warm night air.

Max shifted beside her, his arm reluctantly dropping from her shoulders as Jessie twisted around in his seat. "You need me to walk you two home?"

She rolled her eyes, reaching for the door handle. "I think I can make it up the steps just fine, Dad."

Heather smothered a laugh, nudging Jessie playfully. "Come on, overprotective big brother. Let's get inside."

Jessie muttered something, but Max chuckled, opened his door, and entered the night. Mia followed, her boots crunching against the gravel driveway as they returned to the guest house.

As Jessie and Heather closed their garage door, Mia turned to Max, suddenly hyperaware of how quiet everything was as they walked to the guest house.

It was just the two of them, and the porch light cast a soft glow over the wooden steps.

Max tilted his hat back slightly, his gaze settling on her in that way that made her stomach flip. "You sure you're not too tired for one more dance?"

Mia let out a soft laugh. "Max, there is no music."

He shrugged, taking a slow step closer. "We don't need music."

And just like that, he reached for her hand, pulling her in until she was pressed against him. His other hand slid to the small of her back, and he began to sway there in the quiet of the night.

There was no music—just the rustle of the wind through the trees, the faint chirp of crickets, and the slow, steady rhythm of his heartbeat beneath her cheek.

Mia sighed, closing her eyes and letting herself sink into the moment. "You do like dancing, don't you?"

Max's voice was low, teasing. "Only with you."

Her heart did that ridiculous skipping thing again, and when she lifted her head to look at him, she knew she was in trouble. 

Because the way he looked at her—soft, sure, like she was something he'd been waiting for—made her feel like she was standing on the edge of something big.

His fingers traced slow circles against her back. "Tonight was fun."

She nodded. "Yeah. It was."

Max hesitated for half a second, then brushed a loose strand of hair behind her ear. His touch lingered, and she knew he would kiss her again.

And this time, she wasn't waiting for him to make the move.

She rose onto her toes, closing the space between them and pressing her lips to his in a kiss that felt as natural as breathing. He responded instantly, his arms tightening around him. He deepened the kiss with slow, deliberate tenderness, curling her toes.

By the time they pulled apart, Mia was breathless, her hands gripping the front of his shirt to keep herself steady. Max pressed his forehead against hers, his voice barely above a whisper.

"Tell me this ain't just a rodeo high."

She smiled, running her fingers lightly down his chest. "It's not just a rodeo thing; I want you."

Max exhaled a soft laugh, brushing his thumb across her cheek. "Good. 'cause I'm not done with you tonight yet."

Max leaned into him, her heart pounding. Neither was she.

Something told her this was only the beginning of her happiness ever after.

The night was thick with summer heat, wrapping around them like a slow-burning fire as they stood on their porch. The glow of the single porch light cast long shadows. Her fingers still clutched the fabric of Max's shirt, holding him close, neither ready to let go.

He searched her eyes, his thumb tracing a slow, deliberate path along her jaw. "Mia…" His voice was low and rough, like he was waging some battle within himself.

She knew what he was asking without him having to say it.

Her pulse fluttered, her skin buzzing from his touch, from how he looked at her—like she was something precious and worth waiting for. But she didn't want to stay. Not tonight. Not when every part of her was telling her this was right.

"Let's go inside," she whispered.

Max's breath hitched, his grip tightening slightly at her waist. "Yes, my love."

She reached for his hand, lacing her fingers through his as she backed toward the door. His hesitation lasted only a moment before he followed, his footsteps slow and deliberate, like he was memorizing this moment, holding onto it.

The house was dark when they stepped inside, the only light from the moon spilling through the window. Mia barely had time to take a breath before Max's hands were on her, framing her face as he kissed her again, this time deeper, more urgent.

She melted into him, her fingers threading through his hair, tugging just enough to make him groan against her lips. The sound sent a thrill straight through her, making her knees weak as he pressed her back against the wall, his body solid and warm against hers.

"God, you're beautiful," he murmured, his lips trailing along her jaw, down the column of her throat. Each touch sent a spark racing over her skin, leaving her breathless, wanting.

She slid her hands beneath his shirt, feeling the hard planes of his stomach, the heat of his skin beneath her fingertips. He shuddered under her touch, his breath coming faster, his control fraying.

And when he lifted her, carrying her toward the bedroom without breaking their kiss, she knew—there was no turning back.

This wasn't just a rodeo thing.

This was them.

And tonight was one of many to come.