by Em Petrova
As if understanding he shouldn’t press his luck and stick around to film more interaction between him and Joy, the guy walked away. At least she hadn’t signed a consent to film form. Any footage couldn’t air. But anything recorded could wreak hell on them later. He prayed Wynonna wouldn’t be caught in something terrible, but her tears spoke volumes.
Ryder squeezed Joy’s fingers and looked into her eyes. He hadn’t been lying earlier—she could see into him more deeply than anybody in his life.
“Come to the circle with me.”
She shook her head and withdrew her hand, leaving him feeling cold and empty. “Coming to the ball game was a big enough mistake. I won’t interrupt the circle.”
“Please.” His voice was rough. He snatched her hand back into his. “I want you there, Joy.”
“Why?”
He skimmed his finger over her cheek, and she nuzzled his hand like a lost kitten. Did she even realize what a dead giveaway her body’s reactions were? “I want you there,” he repeated.
When she moved enough to skim his finger with her lips, he couldn’t take it another minute. He yanked her against him and kissed her.
* * * * *
For three solid minutes Ryder explored her mouth. She went on tiptoe and her arms had a mind of their own as they spun around his neck. She didn’t know what to believe when it came to rumors of Ryder’s womanizing, but right now she wasn’t denying herself the pleasure of kissing him.
Especially when her own flavors lingered on his lips. A shudder gripped her, and he held her tighter, hitching her against his erection.
“If I had two extra minutes, I’d have you right here against the side of Yank’s truck.”
“Yankee Carter wouldn’t be too happy to hear you took me against his truck. He’s been trying to get me into his bed for two years.”
Ryder stared down at her for a long heartbeat, the passion cooling in his eyes and hardening to jealousy. “He can’t have you. Shit, we’ve gotta go. How fast can you walk?”
“As fast as you.” He was already taking off, and she kept pace, though she had to jog a little.
He shot her a playful glance. “I was hoping you’d say you couldn’t keep up, because I was gonna throw you over my shoulder and carry you.”
She almost moaned at the thought. What spell did he have on her? She never lost her head over a man. Reason always prevailed. But with Ryder, she threw caution to the wind and watched it scatter like dandelion fluff.
In two minutes of flat-out run-walking, they made it to the stables. The Calhouns were all gathered already, and Ryder let go of her hand and jumped into the ring. They bowed their heads.
Joy watched Channing, Buck’s wife, do the same and ached to be standing in the circle. Buck’s partner was there too, along with his little girls. One hurled herself at Ryder’s thigh and hugged it tight. Then she slid down to sit on his boot.
Buck said a small prayer, and they all repeated the words, “For you, Dad.”
When Ryder looked up at Joy, she hoped he didn’t see the tears in her eyes. His expression changed in a blink—going from intense to happiness. He swung his leg upward, launching the little girl seated on his boot. She clung for dear life, and he did it three more times before ending the “ride.” Her sister was next.
Joy could barely look away from the moment, but she felt a stare on her. Wynonna.
Drawing a deep breath, she walked up to the woman. “I’m not responsible for that news feature. I’m sorry you’re being hurt by it.”
Wynonna gazed at her for a minute. “Do you have any idea what it’s like to be watched at all times?”
She’d gotten the impression that Wynonna loved the spotlight, but maybe she’d figured wrong. She opened her mouth to say no and stopped. Nodding, she said, “My father is very protective of who I’m hanging around with. He doesn’t like cowboys or want me with one.”
Wynonna arched a long, auburn eyebrow. “Doesn’t he know about you and Ryder?”
Pushing out a breath, Joy answered, “Not yet. He’s bound to find out if I don’t break things off.”
“But you like my brother.”
She shot a wild look past Wynonna at Ryder. He seemed to be engaged in a discussion with West. Was she imagining that his ear was cocked just right to catch her answer?
“I’m taking a risk by being here, aren’t I?”
Wynonna smiled, and Joy felt as if a weight had been eased off her shoulders.
“Does this mean you believe I didn’t have anything to do with your news story?” Joy asked.
As if uncommitted to a decision, Wynonna shrugged. “Don’t know what to believe. But I do know I’ve never seen Ryder this happy, and I don’t think it has anything to do with Cheyenne.”
* * * * *
The walls of the chute didn’t just rattle when the bull Ryder had drawn brushed against them. No, the steel practically splintered as it violently tried to unseat Ryder from its back before the horn blast.
Joy wrapped her arms around herself and watched from her father’s VIP seats. The Calhouns were a few seats away, leaning over the rail, hooting and hollering to cheer Ryder on. Even the little dark-haired girls were hooked around their middles and allowed to lean as far out as possible, small hands stretching.
“He’s got one hell of a prime bull. That thing should be in the PBR.” Her father’s low drawl filled her ear. Admiration sounded in his tone—she knew he’d been heavily pursuing Ryder as his next prodigy. He had high hopes for Cody and Tucker, but he was far from awestruck as he was with Ryder.
She fixed her stare on Ryder’s back. The number twenty-seven swam in her vision, and she realized she’d quit breathing.
Dragging in a deep breath, she waited what felt like a full minute but in reality was a second or two. The horn sounded. The chute opened.
And Ryder lurched forward on the back of the meanest bull she’d seen in a long time.
She couldn’t stop the cry from escaping her. She hung over the rail like the Franklin girls.
The animal whipped right and then left. Ryder was far from a helpless rag doll, though. God, he was sheer beauty up there, and her body loved it. Her nipples hardened and the ache between her thighs that hadn’t vanished since early this morning when she’d come all over his fingers came to life again.
“Ryder! Ryder!” The crowd had given up on using the name Calhoun, because there were too many of them. The whole world was in love with the family.
And Joy was more than a little smitten.
She cupped her hands over her mouth as Ryder was pitched forward. His head dipped too far but he righted himself. Probably using those amazing steel abs of his.
“Damn fine,” her father was saying.
Ryder compensated for the bull’s three-sixty spin and simultaneous wild buck. The eight-second buzzer sounded, and he tossed his hat off his head before his boots had even hit the ground.
“Fantastic. That’s gotta be a ninety-two on the scoreboard,” her father said.
The Calhouns were going wild. One of the little girls nearly escaped her father’s grip and toppled headfirst into the arena, but he hauled her back up by the waist of her pants.
Joy glanced up to see Ryder coming right for her. Her heart skidded out of control. What was he going to do? She wanted to back away but the seat hit the backs of her knees and there was no place to run, hemmed in by her father’s big body and another on her right.
Ryder’s gaze struck her and seemed to peel the clothes right off her body. If they were alone, it would have. She’d be standing here naked as a jaybird and burning for him.
She swallowed a huge lump in her throat as he veered to the side and high-fived each of his family members and the posse that was part of the Calhoun crew. Cameras got in his face but he grinned and let them record the moment.
The whole crowd seemed to fall silent, waiting for the score.
Joy didn’t know where to look—at Ryder’s handsome face or the digital num
bers. She swung her gaze away from the board to see Ryder wasn’t even looking at his score. He was looking at her.
Her heart gave a violent somersault as the crowd erupted.
They tore their gazes from each other to look up at the two little numbers that would easily keep Ryder Calhoun in the top runnings of the PBR—ninety-two point five.
“Boy’s just earned himself a damn good paycheck.” Her father applauded for Ryder as if Cody and Tucker didn’t matter at all. But he excused himself to move past Joy and head down to the chutes because Cody was riding sixth.
As soon as her father’s black hat had disappeared, Ryder gave her a look. A long, smoldering demand for her attention that she couldn’t deny.
She hurried from the stands and made her way down. The minute she spotted Ryder, she was also in his arms. He yanked her flush against him, gazed into her eyes and kissed her.
Every ounce of resistance she might have still possessed faded like shadows did at dawn. And she put her arms around him and kissed him back with all the fervor in the world.
He worked his warm hand up under her hair to cradle her skull, making her feel delicate and precious and loved.
Loved? No. Lust for sure.
She pulled free and they stared at each other, chests rising and falling as if they’d sprinted a mile in the time it had taken to kiss.
“Good ride, cowboy.”
Amusement tipped the corner of his lips but he narrowed his snapping eyes. “Just good?”
“Yeah, because I’ve seen what else you can do.”
His grin widened as he hovered over her, his lips a scant inch from hers. “And what kind of score do I get for that performance?”
“I’ll need another round out of you before I can decide, but I’ll give you twenty points just for those fine chaps,” she teased, running a forefinger over his shirt buttons all the way to his waistband. The belt holding up his signature chaps emphasized his state of need.
His abs flexed under her touch and he released a throaty noise that puckered her nipples harder than ever. “You’ll get it, Princess.”
Reality jolted her. “Cody’s up soon. I can’t miss it.”
“Gonzales?” He straightened away from her.
“Yes, if I miss it, my father will know I’ve been…distracted.”
Ryder made another noise that sounded like a grunt. She clasped the sides of his leather vest and yanked him against her at the same moment she went on tiptoe. Brushing her lips over his wasn’t enough—not by a longshot.
She left him standing there and hurried to watch Cody’s ride. Her father’s shoulders were tense. “What are you doing down here?” he asked her without glancing away from his rider in the chute.
“Cheering.”
“You’ve never come down here before.” His accusatory tone reminded her of every time he’d ever told her to stay away from rodeo men. She shot a glance at Cody. Did he think she had a thing for the bull rider? Daddy was shooting for a target, all right, but his aim was off.
She wanted to look around for Ryder. Her skin still tingled from the rough scratch of his five o’clock shadow. But she didn’t dare miss the chute opening because her father would ask her opinion about Cody’s shoulder set, his grip, the position of his legs. How a man left the chute often dictated his entire ride.
Cody had it all, though. He moved with every whip and turn just as he’d been shown for weeks on their ranch. But he was no Ryder Calhoun. Everything about Ryder—from his vintage chaps to the crown of his Stetson screamed champion.
From behind her, she heard a deep throat-clearing noise that raised the hairs on her spine. Was he standing right there? She issued a shaky breath just as Cody completed his eight seconds.
That’s not a ride that will beat Ryder’s. Was it terrible that she hoped it didn’t? Ryder’s run would forever be emblazoned on her mind. Long after they stopped this insane thing they were doing, she’d draw on that memory and recall his strength and skill in everything he did.
She remembered to open her mouth and cheer and clap for Cody as he came off his bull. He did a victory dance that entertained the crowd before falling to one knee in a prayer of thanks.
She knew from the Rope ‘n Ride show that the Calhouns all did this in private—together—after the closing events.
She glanced to the side to see them all clustered around Ryder. With only the tip of his hat visible, she had no idea what was going on—until the bodies of two cameramen parted and she was given a look at his straining shoulders and stiff spine.
Oh no. Now what?
His rumbling tone reached her even over the din of cheers for Cody. Then Wynonna and Lane turned and looked straight at her.
Heart dropping, she nearly swallowed her tongue. What was going on?
Before she could think, Cody was standing before her. Without asking first, he took her in his arms and yanked her off her feet. The toes of her boots dangled, and it felt as if every eye in the place was on her.
Please don’t let that be on the rodeo highlights later.
When she pushed away from him and he set her back on her feet, her face burned. Daddy was staring at her, and as soon as they were alone he’d blister her ears for something that was only going on in Cody’s mind.
Then she looked over to see Ryder swiping the camera down and away from him just as he shot off toward the exit.
More than a few Calhouns were looking at her. Great, now they think even worse of me.
This whole attraction between her and Ryder had to end. She wasn’t strong enough to withstand the Calhouns’ ire, let alone her father’s. She hated drama—did everything in her power to avoid it.
Their non-relationship was like Romeo and Juliet’s, a twisted mess of family intrigue, and going against their wishes wasn’t worth it. Or was it? Being with Ryder was…
Well it felt like standing on a cliff edge, scary and exhilarating at the same time. While she was on the ledge, she never wanted it to end. And like an adrenaline junkie, she would risk almost anything to get back to that spot.
She met Wynonna’s gaze and saw the disgusted curl of her lip before the woman turned away and disappeared with her family. Leaving Joy looking between a beaming Cody Gonzales and her father, who’d gotten his name for more than his bull rides. She wasn’t about to just experience the thunder and lightning but a whole super-storm.
* * * * *
“What the hell’s going on with that woman?” Buck demanded.
When Ryder didn’t respond, he clamped his fingers on his shoulder and forced him around. Ryder had barely held it together back there when Gonzales had locked Joy to him and pulled her off her feet in a victory hug. Only his siblings had kept him corralled like a wild animal. He still felt out of his head, deranged by jealousy.
In the back of his mind, he had a good glimpse of Joy’s feelings when she’d learned about a past lover who’d tried to foist her baby on him or his brother’s teasing that he always had a girl on third base with him.
He was only going so crazy because he liked her so much. And maybe…
Maybe she feels the same.
He blinked at Buck, his mind focused for the first time in several minutes.
“Are you sleeping with Thunder Humphries’ daughter?” Buck asked.
“Do I really need to say it? You know me better than anyone.”
“Hell, Ryder. She’s so off-limits she practically has an armed guard. You’ve heard all the stories, seen the documentaries about him.”
“Yeah.” The word came out as a challenge, which was on par with how he was feeling. He wanted Joy Humphries, and he’d do almost anything to have her. “I have to find her.”
When he pushed by his brother, Buck grabbed him by the arm. They stared at each other. “Look, I can tell you have feelings for her. I’ve never seen you this way—ever. What you do is your business, except when you’re out of control and threatening the crew or doing things that will end this show for us.”
&
nbsp; Ryder twisted his arm from Buck’s hold. “I got it.”
Buck snatched his arm back, fingers steely and bruising. “Do you? I need this money, Ryder.”
“What’s so important about money?”
“It’s what money will do for my family.” His voice broke and he let go of his arm, falling back a little. The slump of his shoulders and the look of total despair on his face stopped Ryder dead.
“What’s going on, Buck?”
“The baby…they think something’s wrong with it.”
Ryder shook his head. “But it’s early. No one can tell.”
“Channing’s far enough along that her preliminary numbers came back wrong. The baby could have a defect but we won’t know more until later.”
“Jesus.” Ryder’s throat closed.
Buck pressed his lips together, holding back a dam of emotion. First their father, then their fight for the land, and now a battle for the health of Buck’s child?
“You can have all my earnings. I only need enough to get to the next venue.”
Buck bowed his head, throat working. “Without insurance, who knows what we’re facing. But I can’t take your money, Ryder.” Finding insurance to take this on now would be difficult—if not impossible.
He hooked his brother around the shoulders. “Can and will, dammit. I won’t take no for an answer. And I swear I’ll keep my temper under control. You need this show—we all do.”
Buck met his gaze. “Don’t tell anybody about this. Especially Wynonna or Ma.”
“You got it. Just take care of that family of yours and let me know if I can bear some of the stress for you.”
“There’s actually something you can do,” Buck said.
“Anything. What is it?”
“Take Asher’s hellions off Channing’s hands for the night.”
* * * * *
“Ryder.” The shock wasn’t concealed in Joy’s tone as she came face-to-face-to-face-to-face with Ryder and two little imps hanging off him. The older Franklin girl sat atop his shoulders while the younger one hung upside down, knees hooked over his strong forearm and her long black hair nearly skimming the ground.
“Joy.”
The closing ceremonies had awarded a huge prize to Ryder, and Cody had taken second place. For an hour afterward, she’d had to listen to her father give Cody a pep talk that finally turned to the lecture she’d been expecting. Of course, she’d denied any relations with Cody, and her father had reluctantly let it go.