Rockin' Rodeo Series Collection Books 1-3

by Vicki Tharp

  He cupped her ass forcing her up his thigh, the friction making her already damp panties soaking wet. “...and keep your fluid levels at max.”

  She broke the kiss long enough to say, “You’d do that for me?”

  “Well, you are my friend.”

  Cora chuckled. “I should thank you.”

  “Trust me,” he said, slipping into the brogue he knew pressed all her go-go buttons and ignited the afterburners. “It’s me pleasure, lass.”

  10

  After Ian got his shots in of the saddle bronc and bull rides, he and Cora met back up. Now he was keeping Cora company while she swapped a stall cleaning for a flake of alfalfa to treat Panache for what turned out to be the winning run for the night to put her in the Sunday finals.

  “I sold a few photos to riders this week, I can loan you—”

  “I don’t want your money.” Then she tossed him a saucy grin. “I won’t need it as long as your magical, race-winning, penis lasts.”

  “Fair enough.” Ian chuckled. “I can grab another manure fork and help?” Ian leaned against the stall door, feeling useless. “I don’t mind.”

  Cora sifted through the shavings and plopped a forkful of poop into the wheel barrow. “I’m almost done, but thanks.”

  When she finished, he followed her to Panache’s stall. At least this time she allowed him to help brush her horse out.

  Cora used a rubber curry comb to break up the dried sweat on her horse while Panache devoured his treat with the enthusiasm of a kid left alone with a sheet cake. Ian could practically hear the horse’s lips smacking.

  On the opposite side of the horse, Ian used the soft body brush and flicked away the sweat and dirt she had loosened. He sneezed at the cloud of dirt and dander he’d raised.

  “Such a city boy,” Cora teased. “I guess it’s a good thing you don’t plan on sticking around.”

  His steady strokes faltered, then picked back up again. Why didn’t he like being reminded that he was leaving? Why were the weeks, the days, the hours, the minutes, going by faster, faster, faster?

  For the first time in his life he wanted time to slow way down, when he should want things to speed up. After all, the opportunity this contest could bring had been his dream for years now.

  “Speaking of leaving, I’ll be sending in my photos and essay for the first-round tomorrow. Then I have to call the magazine in a week to see if I’m one of the finalists.”

  “Then how much longer after that until you know if you’ve won?” Cora’s voice went soft, as if she were afraid to ask.

  Ian’s voice didn’t come out much stronger, just as afraid to answer. “If I’m a finalist, I’ll have to send them one more photo essay. Then they’ll choose from the final submittals. So, we’re maybe looking at two to three weeks, tops.”

  Cora fell silent. All he heard was the scraping of the currycomb against the dried sweat and the soft munching of hay.

  At the clomp of approaching boots, Cora glanced up. Scottie Hines paused at the stall opening, his face falling when he caught sight of Ian. “Sorry. I didn’t know you had... company.” He backed away and started down the aisle.

  Tossing the currycomb aside, Cora ducked under Panache’s neck and went after Scottie. “Hey, wait up.”

  Ian watched through the bars dividing the tops of the stalls. Cora put a staying at hand on Hines’ arm to get him to stop. Even then the stockman wouldn’t look at her.

  “Did you need something?” she asked Scottie.

  “No...I just...” Hines hitched a thumb over his shoulder toward the outdoor paddocks where a lot of the roughstock had been placed for the rodeo. “I better check on the animals one last time before I turn in for the night. Congrats on your run. You deserve it.”

  “Thanks, I’m –”

  Ian turned back to the horse, not wanting to eavesdrop, but convinced Scottie had hoped to find Cora alone.

  He couldn’t blame the man.

  But tough shit. There was no way, no how, that Ian would give her up before he had to. He would be out of her life soon enough, and then her heart would be up for grabs.

  He finished brushing Panache. When she returned to the stall he said, “Everything okay?” as innocently and naturally as he could without sounding nosy or jealous. It wasn’t easy to pull off.

  “Yeah, sure.” But she had this look on her face that said she didn’t quite believe it. “Scottie just seemed a little off is all. But he’s a hard man to get to know. More of a listener than a talker.”

  It was late, so they quickly finished up, Cora filling up Panache’s hay bag, while Ian dumped the heavy water bucket and returned with fresh water. Cora gave Panache a scratch on the withers and a kiss on the end of his soft nose before telling her racing partner good night.

  They took the scenic route back to her trailer. Walking along the outskirts of the parking lot where the lights didn’t quite reach, and the stars shined bright.

  The cool air invigorated him, or maybe what made his blood flow and his heart beat double time was the fact that the most beautiful woman he’d ever known walked beside him, their fingers linked, their shoulders brushing.

  “So how was your night?” Cora asked. “Did you get some good shots?”

  “I think so. I’ll know for sure once I can get a good look at the negatives. Thanks again for introducing me to Silas, and for helping me get behind the chutes. There’s no way I could’ve gotten those shots, gotten that close, without him putting in a good word for me.”

  “Silas is a shirt-off-his-back kind of guy, and aside from a few phobic assholes, most everyone here would do whatever they can to help.” They walked a little further, and Cora asked, “So, did the sex help you out tonight as much as it helped me?”

  Ian shrugged noncommittally. If you could call angry looks and name-calling better than before, then yeah it had been better. At least no one took a swing at him. “Some maybe. I think we killed the gay thing for the most part, but now that most of the guys know I’m straight, now I’m the competition.”

  “Men are such idiots.” Cora bumped him with her hip. “No offense. Present company mostly excluded.”

  “Gee, thanks.” The way he’d been thinking with his dick lately, he didn’t see how Cora could exclude him.

  They made a turn back toward the parking lot near the dumpster, and as much as he wanted to take her back to his trailer and strip her naked and see how loud he could make her scream, he wouldn’t. If she wanted sex, she’d have to come to him, already knowing his dick threatened to get his heart hooked too deep. They passed his trailer and headed back toward Cora’s.

  “Ignore those guys,” Cora said. “Those guys who are giving you a hard time, are the same guys who were afraid to have a beer with me—even talk to me—after my scare, as if I could somehow get pregnant and trap them, just by sharing a drink. Now that they see someone else might be interested, they’re like dogs on a bone, snapping and snarling and generally being big, fat, hairy dicks.”

  “I won’t argue with that.”

  By the time they’d made it back to her trailer, most everyone had settled in for the night, even Josephine appeared to be asleep.

  Ian reconsidered his idea of waiting for Cora to come to him and was about to conjure up some cheesy excuse for her to spend the night with him, as if his magical dick would keep her in the money. Because the truth was, he liked having her in his bed, liked waking up with her in the morning, liked watching her nose crinkle when she laughed, and feeling her body shudder beneath his touch. More than he should. More than he ever thought he would.

  He opened his mouth, hoping something funny or convincing or cocky would fall from his lips, anything but the truth.

  That he wanted her.

  “Uh, oh.” Cora pulled her hand free from his.

  “What’s wr—” The words died on Ian’s lips as he glanced past Cora. A piece of paper and another rose had been placed on the step of the trailer. He reached for it. Something in the back o
f his brain told him to stand up and take notice, but it felt too much like jealousy to be totally believed. “Your secret admirer strikes again.”

  Cora took the piece of paper and the wilted rose from his hand, her eyes scanning the parking lot, but if Ian had to guess, whoever had laid those on the steps would be long gone.

  He turned on his camera flash to strobe mode to get a better look. “Jesus...”

  “What did he do to my eyes?” Cora asked as a visible shiver went through her. “Is this someone’s idea of a sick joke? Because I’m not laughing anymore.”

  Far from fresh, the wilted rose petals had blackened around the edges. The piece of paper was a clipping of the photo of Cora dancing on the tables at The Wagon Wheel with holes poked in the shadows of her face where her eyes should be. He took it from her hand to get a better look.

  “Throw it away,” she said as she grabbed for it.

  Ian held it out of her reach, afraid she’d crumple it up. “Hang on. This is getting out of hand. Maybe we need to call in the sheriff or—”

  “What can the sheriff do? It’s not against the law to leave someone flowers and a newspaper clipping.”

  “Maybe not, but I don’t like some asshole creeping around your trailer in the middle of the night. Especially when all it would take is a well-placed screwdriver to pop the lock on your trailer to get to you.”

  “I don’t think someone is trying to hurt me, I think—”

  The trailer door clicked open and Josephine stuck her head out, her hair all mussed around her head. “I think you two need to keep it down, the rest of us are trying to sleep.”

  Ian shined his light on the rose and the newspaper. “Someone left this on your step.”

  “What? When?” Josephine pulled the corners of her blanket tighter around her. “It wasn’t there when I went to bed. I never heard a thing.”

  “We should at least go check with rodeo security.” Ian wasn’t about to let this drop. Not when it involved Cora’s safety. “Maybe one of their guys saw something.”

  “Hang on,” Josephine said, “I’ll get dressed and come with you.”

  It took some time, but Ian, Cora, and Josephine finally tracked down one of the security guards who’d camped out at the rodeo office next to a fresh pot of coffee.

  When they showed the guard the newspaper clipping, and the dead rose, he didn’t get very excited.

  “What do you expect me to do? There’s only two of us. We can’t be everywhere all the time. If you want my advice, I would find somewhere else to sleep until this nut job gets tired of the game.”

  “Are you freaking kidding me?” Josephine said. “You can at least put your damn coffee down long enough to patrol the parking lot. What are you gonna tell your boss when someone gets hurt? That you had a coffee emergency or that you were too lazy to give a flying fuck?”

  “No one’s going to get hurt.” The guard took a lazy slurp of his coffee. “Whoever left this is not the type of guy that confronts you, he’s the type of guy who scurries around in the dark like a cockroach, running for cover as soon as someone flips on the lights.”

  The prick was no help, and Ian refused to waste one more second with an incompetent security guard. “Come on,” Ian said to the girls. To the security officer he let his tone go flat. “Thanks, man, you’ve been a great help.”

  “Yeah? Well, fuck you too buddy.”

  As they headed back to Cora’s trailer, Ian said, “I want both of you to stay with me for tonight at least. There’s plenty of room for the three of us. Tomorrow we can come up with a better solution.”

  “Pass,” Josephine said. “I’m not staying in your trailer. All that rocking and rolling that goes on in there will make me seasick.”

  “I’ll sleep in the dining area.” Ian didn’t care about the sleeping arrangements, all he wanted was Cora safe. “You two can share the back bed.”

  “And be responsible for Cora losing out on winning a check tomorrow night? Are you kidding me? I’ll find somewhere else to stay tonight. You two have fun.”

  “Wait a minute here.” Cora grabbed Josephine’s arm before she could escape. “I don’t get a say in all of this?”

  “As long as it’s ‘yes,’” Ian said, “‘for sure’, or ‘that sounds like a great idea’, then yeah, you have a say.” No way would Ian let Cora win this argument.

  “That is our trailer.” Cora’s voice skipped two rungs up the octave ladder. “I’m not gonna let some numb nuts scare me out of my home. Besides, it’s not like I’m going to be hard to find half a parking lot over in your trailer.”

  Cora didn’t need to know Ian was seconds away from throwing her over his shoulder and going all small-minded, big-muscled caveman on her. He could almost feel the Neanderthal brow ridge forming above his eyes even as he moderated his tone. “Maybe not, but at my trailer, they’ll have to go through me to get to you.”

  “Ian’s right,” Josephine said. “Don’t be stupid. More than likely you’re right and this won’t escalate, but we don’t know that. I want you safe. Promise me you’ll stay with him.”

  “Jesus.” Cora huffed out and exasperated breath. “Fiiine.”

  Ian and Cora accompanied Josephine to Mabel’s trailer on the far side of the parking lot. The lights shone through the thin curtains, Mabel’s shadow visible through the window. They knocked, and Mabel was more than happy to have a bunk mate for the night. They said their goodbyes, and Cora and Ian headed back to Ian’s trailer.

  “Do you have any idea who this bastard is?” Ian asked as he unlocked his trailer. He pulled the camera strap from around his neck and laid his camera on the table and plopped down on the bench seat. The Naugahyde cushion hissed under his weight.

  Cora took the seat across from him. “Who says it’s a guy? Maybe it’s one of the girls. Someone who’s jealous. One of the barrel racers who lost tonight, or hell, even Patty for that matter. She didn’t seem too happy that Levi came over to congratulate me.”

  “But it’s the same clipping and the same type of flower as before. It would be too much of a coincidence that two people would send you those.”

  In Ian’s experience, jealous women didn’t hide. They came right up to your face and confronted you, all high-pitched voices, pointed fingers, and indignant accusations. This was a man. A jealous man. Now an angry man. If Ian ever got his hands on the rat bastard, the guy would be lucky to come out alive.

  “Any guys you hooked up with that wish you two were still together?”

  “Is this your sly way of getting a list of all the men I’ve slept with?”

  Humor sparked in her eyes, and Ian had to admire the fact that she could joke around at a time like this. “Is that your sly way of letting me know the list is very long?”

  “After the pregnancy scare, I can guarantee that the list of men who wished they were still with me has shrunk dramatically. But honestly, even before that, for the most part I’ve always remained friends after breakups. The guys I’ve been with knew what they were getting into when they slept with me. Simple sex. No harm. No foul. Just two people sharing their bodies and a good time. They weren’t looking for anything serious any more than I was.” Cora held her hands out wide. “Now, no one’s interested in getting a piece of me.”

  “Present company excluded.”

  “Thank you for that, by the way.” The humor had left her voice, replaced by sincerity. “For stepping up to the plate, so to speak.”

  “I seem to recall enjoying myself last night as much is you. Trust me, there’s no need to thank me.”

  In fact, she probably wouldn’t be thanking him if she had any idea how his thinking had shifted, how he’d tried to think of what he could say, how he might ask her if she wanted to come along with him if he won.

  An impossibility he knew, but that didn’t keep him from wishing things were different.

  Cora’s eyes got glassy, and she waved her hand in front of her face, as if she could wave the tears away. “Jeez. I don’t kn
ow what’s wrong with me. I’m just—”

  “Exhausted.” Ian slid out of the booth, taking Cora’s hand, and helping her to her feet. Slowly he walked her backwards until the edge of the bed caught her on the back of her legs. “And stressed, and scared, and all those other things you should be feeling when someone has violated your sense of security the way that that person has.”

  Ian fluffed his pillow and pulled down the covers, helping her off with her clothes and into his Mets shirt. Handing her into the bed, he pressed a kiss to the top of her head. She smelled of arena dust and pine shavings. A mixture of scents that Cora had somehow turned into an aphrodisiac.

  “Get some sleep, Cora. Tomorrow we can make a list of potential suspects, and maybe get to the bottom of this.”

  He tucked the covers around her and took a step back. She grabbed his wrist.

  “Come to bed,” she said. “We could both use some sleep.”

  Bending down, Ian skimmed a soft kiss on her lips, and brushed her cheek with a pad of his thumb, fighting the urge to say, ‘the hell with it’ and stripping down and falling into bed with her.

  “Trust me,” Ian said, “I would love nothing more, but those negatives won’t develop themselves. I still have to find the shots I want to send into the magazine and write my story. I’ll come to bed in a little bit.”

  “Ian,” Cora tucked her hands under her chin and burrowed her head into the pillow. “Even though we’re just friends, thank you for making me believe that I matter.”

  “You more than matter, Cora Hayes.”

  Because he didn’t think he would ever get enough of her, he leaned in for another kiss.

  As much as he wanted to make her his again, and again, and again, he had work to do. He couldn’t let a woman, even Cora, get in the way of his dream.

  Hours and hours later, Ian climbed into bed with gritty eyes, a tired back, and the realization that he might actually have a decent shot at winning the contest. That this dream of his could materialize, that he could grab hold and let it take him for a ride.