All I See Is You

5. Ranch Hand

Chapter five

Ranch Hand

Hux

F uck, I didn’t know if people were getting more and more fucking rude nowadays, or if I was just getting offended too easily. It seemed I got more attention being the blind guy than I ever did as a professional bull rider. I hated it though. White-hot anger spread through my veins as if it’d been administered to me through an IV.

“...I saw you in the grocery store earlier.”

I paused at that. And just as the question popped in my head, an answering whisper of wind blew the scent of lemongrass and vanilla my way. Another sweet smell was mingled in there, but there was no denying her scent. I inhaled deeply, and all the anger pent up and growing inside me washed away—there and gone as quick as it came.

“You’re the girl who was singin’,” I blurted out, cocking my head to the side.

How the hell was she here? Why was she here? My heart danced rapidly in my chest. What a small, damn world.

She let out a little huff of nervous laughter, and I imagined she probably did something like tuck a piece of hair behind her ear or bite her bottom lip. “Oh God, did I leave that lasting of an impression? How embarrassing.”

“Don’t be,” I replied, wishing like hell I could see her face. “I thought you sang nice.”

Another trickle of laughter, this one filled with disbelief. “Thank you, but you don’t need to lie. I’m terrible.”

“Miss, I’m a lot of things, but I ain’t no liar.”

She made this soft, little noise in the back of her throat. Not quite a laugh but not necessarily a gasp either. It was soft and feminine and made me all the more frustrated I couldn’t see her. I wondered if she was as pretty as she sounded. Not like it mattered anymore really.

“California girl! What’re you doin’ here?” Travis’ booming voice startled me as his presence appeared at my side. Had I been so distracted I hadn’t noticed him approach? I was usually pretty aware of my surroundings.

Another feminine voice joined the fray. “Shut up? This is so crazy! This is my friend I was telling you about. We’re visiting her family!”

So the girl who was singing was Mr. Decker’s daughter? I’m sure he and the missus would have something to say about the two of us talking. I got the impression Mrs. Decker didn’t think all too highly of me. Not that I particularly thought all too highly of her either.

“Well, come on in!” Travis said, gently pushing me out of the doorframe to let everyone through.

The sweeter scent I’d smelled earlier filled my nose and the air shifted as she walked by me. Her footfalls were heavy as they scuffed against the wood floors. But then the other girl, the one I’d been talking to, moved past me so I could shut the door. She remained close by, I could feel the heat of her, the weight of her stare.

It’s weird. Having my vision for so long and then losing it at least gave me a basis for what things generally looked like. After memorizing the layout of the bunkhouse, I’d come up with a mental blueprint of sorts. Behind her was the hallway to Travis’s room, and off to her right and my left was the common area. From the quiet roar of voices, Travis was introducing the other girl to Wyatt, Dylan, and Brooks.

Something shifted in my chest that this girl stayed by me.

“So, you’re Mr. and Mrs. Decker’s daughter?” I asked.

An indignant huff. “She’s not Mrs. Decker yet, and no, Georgette is definitely not my mom. That would be, like, biologically impossible actually with how close we are in age.”

I fought the grin pulling on my lips. Apparently she didn’t think too highly of Mrs. Decker either. “Do I sense some hostility?”

The girl—I still didn’t know her name—huffed. “No, sorry. Georgette is just…not what I expected for my dad.” A pause and then, “Sorry, I’m Quinn, by the way. I just now realized I never introduced myself.”

“Hux.” I held out a hand between us. “Huxson Lane.”

I was more than a bit surprised at her firm grip as she shook it back. “It’s nice to officially meet you, Hux. I–I really am sorry about earlier. I was so embarrassed, and when I said hi and smiled at you and you just looked right at me—which completely makes sense now, by the way—I just got the hell out of there because I was embarrassed.” Her words held a slightly erratic, excited edge to them. From the way the air shifted frequently, I think she used her hands a lot to talk.

“It’s all good. So, you came to visit your dad?”

“Well, I actually came here to help him plan his wedding at the end of this month.”

I scoffed, rocking back on my heels. Wasn't there only a couple weeks left? “Ain’t that a little shitty to ask that of you?”

“It’s okay, honestly. My mom passed away when I was seventeen, so I've had plenty of time to come to terms with it. I’m just happy my dad found someone. And I’m an event planner, so it makes sense he’d ask me.”

Her voice didn’t hold any anger or resentment in it. It was soft, light, warm. Like a midsummer night. Not like this shitty, humid weather we were having, but the ones where the sun burnt low on the horizon, casting everything in a warm glow. The type of night that was meant for stargazing in the back of a pickup truck or going on a night ride.

God, I missed that.

“Ah, well, then my apologies for jumpin’ to conclusions then, Miss. Quinn.”

“No worries,” she replied. “So, what exactly does a ranch hand do? Are you like a legit cowboy?”

It amazed me that she hadn’t made her way over to the others yet, and it amazed me more that she sounded genuinely interested in talking to me.

I chuckled, my lips curving up into a smirk. “What do you mean a legit cowboy?”

“Like…you know, do you break and train horses? Do you, like, lasso cows and ride bulls?”

The last question hit me like a ton of bricks, straight to the chest. If only she knew what all I’d done. How close I’d been to being a three time consecutive World Champion.

“You rope a cow, not lasso it,” I said, hoping my words didn’t come out as brusque as they felt tumbling out of my mouth. “I’ve trained and worked babies…but, no… I don’t ride bulls.”

Not anymore.