by Em Petrova
Ridge gave Ryder a raised eyebrow.
“Okay, crazier than usual,” Ryder said.
“She’s obsessed with a better time, but beats me why. I think she’s just showing off for the cameras.”
“Or the production manager,” Ryder said under his breath, and Ridge nodded.
“If things go south with them, our show’s probably cut.”
“I wouldn’t mind,” Ryder said at once.
Ridge looked at him hard. “Wouldn’t you? You’d be out enough money to get that house of yours.”
“I can earn it myself with good old hard work.”
“You’ve been ‘on’ with bulls lately, but that can’t last. Most of the ride is luck.” Ridge tipped his hat lower against the glaring sun.
“I know.” Ryder sighed. The ranch felt smaller than normal since the film crew had come into their lives. And this morning Ryder had discovered his toothbrush on the bathroom floor, knocked off by some inconsiderate family member. When he’d found several hairs on it, he’d hurled it into the wastebasket and finger-scrubbed his teeth.
He’d also spent half an hour going over his bank account and finances, looking at ways to squeeze more money from his budget in order to go to the bank and ask for that loan.
The next installment check came from the TV network in two more months. He didn’t know if he could live through eight more weeks of hairy toothbrushes.
He pushed air out of his nose as Wynonna reined in, a cloud of dust swirling around her horse’s legs. She glared at Ridge. “What’s the time?”
“Sixteen point eight.”
“Dammit!” Wynonna threw her braid over her shoulder and her horse danced at her agitation. She patted its neck soothingly, but Ryder eyed them.
“You’re too tense. Your horse is picking it up.”
“What?” She turned her narrowed cat eyes on him.
He wasn’t cowed by her dirty looks. “Remember that racing clinic you attended some years back? The instructor talked about a smooth ride, and the only way to get that is for your horse to be happy, stretch out on the runs and turn those corners faster.”
Wynonna opened her mouth, probably to shoot a sassy reply, but closed it again.
“Maybe you need another clinic to remind you, l’il sis.”
“Maybe you need to take up Thunder Humphries’ offer to train you,” she shot back.
At the name, his chest blazed and a longing for Joy rose up, so strong he thought he might choke. No, that was just the dust off the hooves. “What are you talking about?”
“I heard Thunder was looking for you in Prescott. He was going to invite you to train with him on his ranch.”
On his ranch. With Joy so close I could have her daily—nightly. And every minute in between.
He gave a shake of his head. “I’m doing fine without training. Besides, Thunder is looking for the next PBR champ. I’m not playing that game. I’m happy where I’m at.”
Wynonna dismounted in one fluid motion, and a camera followed the swing of her leg. She hit the ground and put her hand right over the camera lens, directing it down and away from her. “Can I get a minute?” she snapped.
The crew member muttered a “sure” and walked away from her as if she were a grenade with the pin pulled. Ryder waved her over to the fence, and she twisted her lips as she followed. Ridge trailed behind.
“What’s that about?” he asked her quietly.
At his tone, all the fight seemed to trickle out of her. She leaned her elbows on the rail and bowed her head. “I’ve made a mess of things.”
“With the manager?” Ryder couldn’t stand seeing her upset. He rested his hand on the warm crown of her bowed head.
She nodded. “He’s being a dick.”
At that, Ridge and Ryder both stiffened. Nobody treated one of their own badly, especially their baby sister.
“What the fuck’s he doing? Do I need to break his legs?” Ridge asked.
“Good gawd, no,” she drawled. She straightened and held her head high. “I’ll handle it, okay?”
Ryder latched onto her arm. “You sure?”
She nodded. “I’m a big girl now. I can take care of it myself. He’s not a bad guy really, but he’s the jealous type.”
Ah, that explained much. Wynonna was like a big, beautiful flower attracting every bee in the field. If the production manager was remotely jealous, he was messing with the wrong girl. Hell, he was anyway. Wynonna was off-limits and he was at least ten years older than she was.
“I don’t like this,” Ryder said.
“Me neither.” Ridge sounded pissed. His middle brother was normally very mild-tempered, but when his temper flared, watch out.
“I got it, guys.” She held up both hands as if to ward them off.
Ridge pointed a finger at her. “You’d better tell us if you don’t.”
Suddenly, her eyes went wide and soft and she leaned over the rail to hug them both. She planted a wet, noisy kiss on each of their foreheads.
“Ewww, girl spit.” Ryder rubbed at his skin.
They watched her return to her horse. She wrapped her arms around its neck and the mare nudged her with her nose.
“I think you’re right about her having a softer hand while racing. Rule number one of cowboying—or rodeoing—is treat your horse right and you can get the job done faster.” Ridge pushed away from the fence.
They walked back toward the barn together. There was always work to be done on the ranch, but Ryder had a feeling it wouldn’t keep his mind off the mention of Thunder’s offer.
Ridge seemed to be channeling his thoughts. “What do you think of going big-time with bull riding?”
Ryder shot him a look out of the corner of his eye. “I don’t think it’s for me. You trying to boot me out of the Calhoun circle?”
As he lifted his boot, Ridge hooked his own under it and tripped Ryder. After a few stumbling steps, he righted himself. Reaching out, he whacked Ridge’s hat off his head. It tumbled into the dust.
“If you’re out of the circle, that means more ladies for me,” Ridge quipped.
All of a sudden Ryder was back in that chute with Joy in his arms. It was as if she’d known how crazy her perfume made him when she’d bought it. And how he was a sucker for those little squeaking noises she made while he kissed her.
He clenched his hands into fists. The barn was ten steps away, but he veered off from Ridge and made his way to the house. He needed a cool drink if he was going to make it through a hot afternoon of working with Joy on the brain.
“Hey, you tapping out?” Ridge called.
Ryder raised a hand in farewell and mounted the porch steps. Shade greeted him, and he wanted to sink down into one of the chairs and sit this round out. The increasing need for a spell of peace and quiet gripped him.
As he pushed through the screen door, the hinges gave their pleasant squeal. He picked his way through the mudroom, which had been clean for all of a week after the film crew had shown up. Now it had various other footwear left by production people. Ma had resigned herself to a messy entryway and focused on other things, like bigger meals and fluffier country biscuits.
“Ryder, you just missed a phone call. If I’d known you were headed into the house, I would have told him to hold on.” Ma came out of the kitchen drying her hands on a dishtowel.
His eyebrows shot up on their own. “Who’s calling me? We’re all here.”
She nearly fizzed with excitement. Her brown eyes, so much like his, shone. “Thunder. Freaking. Humphries.”
He shook himself, both at her use of the word freaking and the name of the man. “You’ve been hanging out with Wynonna this morning, haven’t you? Never mind. Did Thunder say what he wanted?”
“All he said was he was looking to talk to you. When he knew you weren’t nearby, he said he hoped to see you at the next venue.”
Cheyenne—they were headed to Cheyenne. Thoughts of sunny days, warm nights and scorching kisses from a certain lit
tle cowgirl flitted through his head. If this continued, he wouldn’t be looking for the ride—but seeing Joy.
And then the ride.
God, he hadn’t had blue-balls for a woman this bad since Katie Ryan back in his senior year. He’d never gotten a chance with her but that hadn’t stopped his fantasies.
Joy was a million times better, though. Or worse depending on how you looked at it.
He gave his ma a nod and walked past her into the kitchen.
She trotted behind him. “Aren’t you gonna say anything, Ryder?”
As he opened the fridge door to get at the iced tea, he had to nudge a cameraman aside. Foregoing the glass, he tipped the jug to his lips and drank for a long minute. Dammit, he needed time to process what was going on in his brain, and he refused to do it in front of his family—or the cameras.
He put the jug back in the fridge and his mother made a tsking sound. “Is that how you’re going to leave things?”
He didn’t know if she meant the jug or the conversation. “One of my brothers will be by for a drink next—the jug’s fine.”
“And what will you do about Thunder? You know why he’s calling you, right?”
I’m sure it isn’t to hook up with his daughter.
His balls clenched at the mere thought. “I know fine.”
She followed him back to the front of the house. “And what’s your decision? Will you go pro with Thunder Humphries at your back?”
He paused with the screen door open partway. A fly buzzed by his head and into the house. “I need some time, Ma.” He looked into her eyes and saw worry mingled with happiness at his opportunity. On impulse, he leaned in and pecked her cheek. “You’ll be the first to know, okay?”
Hell, she, his family and America would probably know before he did.
* * * * *
Joy wasn’t feeling it today. The long drive to Cheyenne in the back seat of the truck, listening to her father’s rising star, Cody, sing to old Waylon Jennings songs on the radio set her on edge.
Stiff from sitting, she crossed and uncrossed her legs, wishing she’d brought her own entertainment and earbuds. Typically, she and her father had companionable conversation or quiet on their drives. They didn’t usually have a third party in the vehicle with them, but Cody had a case of the jitters and her father thought it best to bring him along. Driving alone, Cody would just overthink everything.
She stared out the window at the passing landscape. Nebraska was one of the more boring states to drive through. As a child, she’d saved all her coloring books for the ride through this state and hardly looked up until they’d crossed the state line.
Now with no distractions, her mind was free to wander, which was more dangerous. She would see Ryder at this upcoming event. She could almost feel his lips on hers and his hard ass under her hands. The rasp of his five o’clock shadow still seemed to sear her skin, and his scent…
She closed her eyes and rested her head against the seat. What would happen when she saw him again? She couldn’t deny the attraction between them. She’d never experienced such a pull to a man. But her head knew better than to mess around with him. In her experience, rodeo guys were players.
Besides, she’d heard plenty of rumors about him being a Casanova between the sheets.
All he wanted was a one-night stand anyway.
He’d probably forgotten her by now, moved on to the next pretty girl wearing boots. He certainly had no lack of interest. With his looks, he could have anybody. And he was famous to boot, which meant he’d probably have a celebrity hanging on his arm by next year.
Opening her eyes, she stared at the back of Cody’s head. He’d taken his hat off, and at one point his boots too, until the smell had filled the car and his father had asked him to put them back on. He was a nice kid and he’d finally given up hitting on her. One sharp look from her dad had ended any notions of romance in Cody’s head.
Unfortunately, her own head was a mess. She liked so much about Ryder. She may not know him very well, but she felt as if she did after watching him on the Rope ‘n Ride show. Also, the Calhouns didn’t seem to be affected by being in the public eye. Everything they did seemed genuine. Their family circle touched her deeply. And Ryder playing with the little dark-haired Franklin girls…
She shook herself. I’m just trying to find a reason to break my own rules about dating cowboys.
Overall she was content in her life. She loved working on their family ranch as well as traveling with her father. Never one to get hung up in personal goals, she drifted along, happy to help others.
But for the first time, she wanted something.
A six-foot tall bull rider from Tulsa with a drawl like syrup and looks that set her on fire.
She ran her tongue along her lower lip.
Once, when she was little, she’d gotten poison ivy and spent several days itching herself alive. Now, whenever she even saw the plant that had caused her so much irritation, she started scratching.
With Ryder, it was the same. She thought about him and her body reacted heatedly—her nipples were hard gems and her panties grew damp.
Fidgeting a bit on the seat, she closed her eyes again and let her mind wander over long, deep kisses in a chute. The strangest place and yet it fit both her and Ryder perfectly.
His deep voice filled her head as she let the truck movement lull her.
I’m a rancher too. Do you do it with ranchers?
No…ranchers.
Then who can you do it with?
Nobody wearing a hat.
She still felt a thrill down to the tips of her toes thinking about him tossing off his hat, determined to win her in any way possible.
Maybe it was time to have a little something for herself. Even a one-night-stand would give her memories to last a lifetime. When she was an old lady, did she really want to have stories about somebody else living it up while she looked on?
They continued down the long road toward Cheyenne. Soon she’d be face-to-face with Ryder and have to make up her mind.
* * * * *
A camera loomed from both the left and right side of Ryder, with one panning across the line of Calhouns from the front. Hell, there was probably one trained on the back of his head too. Now that he thought about it, the hairs on his neck prickled.
Twisting around, he expected to see a lens aimed at him. And was instead met with beautiful gray eyes.
The breath punched from him. He turned all the way around to look at Joy. Shapely in a fitted black T-shirt bearing her father’s name. It appeared to be vintage and two sizes too small. Had it been a shirt from her childhood?
His balls clenched as he scanned her tight body. Dark jeans that fit like a second skin and those adorable boots with a rhinestone pattern across the toes. As they stared at each other, her lashes lowered, giving her an irresistible shy girl look.
He groaned, snagging his brother’s attention. Buck threw a glance over his shoulder and grinned.
“When you gonna go after that?” Buck asked.
Ryder didn’t answer, just tipped his hat to Joy. She responded with a little wave.
Damn, seeing her palms made him think of her hands in his back pockets, kneading his ass. She’d be a wildcat in bed, he had no doubts. A woman that passionate couldn’t withhold a thing—not from him.
He pinned her with his gaze for another long heartbeat before he noticed the cameraman smiling like the village idiot. Swinging his gaze right at the camera, he said, “You get what you wanted?”
“Yep. Should we ask her for a consent to film form?”
“Hell no,” Ryder growled. The last thing he wanted was to yank an innocent woman into the world of production. He could barely take a full breath without a camera recording the expansion of his chest.
The national anthem began to play, and he hurriedly turned to put his hand over his heart. It was pounding as fast as a horse who’d been ridden too long. But he hadn’t been ridden hard or fast—yet.
&
nbsp; His brothers loved to sing, adding their deep voices to the crowd of uplifted voices. Channing’s was high and clear, and he couldn’t help but wonder if Joy was singing.
By the time the song had finished, he barely hesitated before whirling to look at her again.
She was gone, but her father stood in her place. As soon as Thunder caught his eye, he smiled and made his way through the crowd to reach him.
For some reason Ryder felt like a kid coming to take the man’s daughter to prom. He planted his boots so he didn’t shift around and waited.
Joy suddenly appeared again, a ray of sun popping from behind a cloud. Ryder tried to school his features, aware of Thunder’s attention on him.
By the time they both reached Ryder, he didn’t think he could feel more off his game. He clenched and unclenched his fingers to dispel his nervousness.
When he glanced around, his family had scattered to ready themselves for their events. Bull riding was often last at these rodeos, since it was the biggest draw, so Ryder had all the time in the world to get Joy alone and kiss that soft smile off her face. Replace it with an expression of bliss.
Thunder shoved his hand at Ryder. “Hello, young man. I was hoping to run into you here in Cheyenne.”
Ryder took his hand, a rough hand that knew hard work every day of his life. Their grasp was equally matched as they pumped their arms up and down.
“Nice to see you, Thunder.”
“Have you met my daughter Joy?”
“Briefly, yes. Nice to see you again.” Ryder held out his hand to her, and she took it. Soft, silky and full of promise. Tension crackled inside him as he looked into her eyes.
Quickly, she released him and gripped her hands together.
“What do you say I buy you a beer?” Thunder asked, clapping Ryder on the shoulder.
“Sounds good. All that singing has left me as dry as dust.”
Thunder chuckled at his half-ass attempt at a joke and Ryder felt like a fool. He didn’t know if he could even tip a beer up to his lips without dumping it down his shirt. Then he’d be facing the woman he liked far too much with another stained shirt.