With working on the ranch and training Cooper advanced bull riding skills a few times a week, one would assume I’d be too damn exhausted to think about her, but every morning I see her at the B&B, and it’s impossible not to. Maize barely glances my way as she walks in and out of the kitchen, refilling the buffet with her delicious pancakes and sausage patties. When I speak, she acts as if I’m wasting her time, and her responses are short. I’d be amused if she weren’t lying to me. Regardless, I always smile at her, and though she tries to remain unfazed, the blush on her cheeks gives her away.

“That’s a good boy,” I tell Racer once I secure the bit in his mouth and put the bridle over his head. I slowly pet him and give positive reinforcements until he’s used to the sensation. We’ve been working together for a couple of weeks, and he’s already making good progress.

I train him for another hour—setting the saddle on his back and adding some weight so he can get used to it. Eventually, Racer will be used on guided tours.

After we’re done, I put Racer in the main pasture to graze, and I get a text from Grayson.

Grayson: Meeting for brunch in ten.

On the early mornings when we’re too busy to eat breakfast, we go after the rush. That usually means Maize isn’t as busy, and I can attempt to get more than one-word responses from her.

Gavin: I’ll be there.

I park at the B&B, a place that’s become my second home, and get out of the truck. After I stroll inside, I immediately scan the area for Maize. Though I don’t see her, I can hear her laughter. Once I’m in the dining area, I see Grayson sitting at a table with Riley and Diesel, and he’s chatting with Maize and John.

“Mornin’,” I bellow, tapping my hat toward Maize as she glares at me. “You look pretty today.”

She sighs, then rolls her eyes before walking away without a word.

Yeah, I’m used to that reaction. Not sure why she’s hell-bent on ignoring me or denying our night together, but I’m determined to figure it out no matter how long it takes.

“Tell me again how much game you’ve got.” Diesel barks out a laugh.

“Trust me, it’s not my game that’s the issue. It’s her,” I counter, flashing an apologetic look at her dad before he murders me for talking about his daughter.

“I’ve raised that girl for twenty-five years, and I’m still trying to figure her out, so good luck.” John chuckles before leaving us to ourselves.

“Great,” I mutter.

Once I’ve filled a plate with food, I take a seat next to Grayson.