The Return (BookShots Flames)

by Erin Knightley

  “And strengths, I imagine.”

  He propped one booted foot on the bottom rail of the fence and draped his arms over the top. “I’m not here to boost your ego, princess. The purpose of today is to identify what things need improvement so we can attempt to fix them before you’re in front of a stadium full of strangers.”

  “I see. Well, since I’m sure you’re eager to point out my shortcomings, I’ll just assume that you’re impressed by the things you don’t mention.” Her syrupy sweet smile was enough to make his teeth hurt.

  She was clearly feeling pretty sure of herself, but he doubted she’d feel the same way when there were hundreds of eyes trained on her. Riding alone in your backyard was a world away from riding through the middle of a packed arena with your fellow competitors breathing down your neck. He’d seen many talented riders choke when faced with the reality of competition.

  Setting his mouth in a straight line, he squinted against the sun and looked up at her. “Nobody knows you from Adam, but my name’s on the line here. I don’t need your overconfidence making fools of us both.”

  She rolled her eyes. “Last anyone saw you, you were being hauled away on a stretcher, with hoof marks decorating your chest. Somehow I doubt that standing by me on the sidelines is going to tank your reputation.”

  Real anger tightened his gut as he narrowed his eyes. Talk about hitting below the belt. “If my reputation is such dirt, then you sure as hell don’t need me propping you up, now, do you? Don’t let me drag you down.”

  Color crept up her cheeks as she wrinkled her nose. “I didn’t mean to insult you, Mack,” she said softly. “As much as I hate to admit it, your reputation is amazing, which is why I wanted your help. It was a mean thing to say, and I’m sorry.”

  He pursed his lips, surprised that she’d admit it so readily. In his experience, women usually doubled down when challenged. Given their history, she’d have more of a right to it than most.

  “‘Amazing,’ huh?” he said, letting a vaguely suggestive grin quirk the corner of his mouth to lighten the mood. He wanted to rattle her a bit, but he really didn’t feel like arguing.

  Shaking her head, she urged her horse into a walk. “There’s the Mack we all know and love,” she said over her shoulder, her sarcasm as thick as mud. “Now get your timer ready, hot stuff. I’m ready to ride.”

  With her back to him, he let himself chuckle as he readied his phone. If nothing else, this was going to be a very interesting couple of weeks.

  He wasn’t kidding around when it came to nitpicking her form. If it had been anyone else, Ashley would have appreciated the constructive criticism, but it chafed like hell coming from Mack.

  It was even worse when he was right.

  Yes, she wanted him to smooth her way into the sport, and yes, his observations were valuable. But Mack excelled at delivering the criticism without the “constructive” part.

  From his place at the fence, he waved her over after the fifth run. “This ain’t baton twirling, princess. Tighten up those ab muscles in the turn, and for the third time, don’t wait so long to sit down when you reach the barrel.”

  Pulling back on the reins, she tossed him a frustrated glare. He’d had something to say every time she’d ridden past him. She’d wanted him to help her with the logistics of entering the competition, not appoint himself her unofficial coach.

  “Since when are you the expert? I don’t remember seeing you ever pocketing a barrel.”

  “Since I spent the better part of five years watching the best in the business do their thing. You know I did saddle bronc before moving to bulls, and if you think I didn’t watch every man and woman compete in every event over the years, you don’t know jack about my passion and appreciation for rodeo.”

  Ashley blinked, surprised to have gotten a straight answer out of him. He had meant it, too. You can’t fake passion like that.

  “Besides,” he said, his tense face smoothly transitioning to that teasing, flirtatious grin she’d seen him use to his advantage over the years, “I pay attention to the body position of the athletes of this particular sport.”

  She made a face. The majority of competitors for barrel racing were young, fit women, as he well knew. Playboy Mack was back.

  “We’re done for today,” she said, her tone telling him exactly what she thought of his answer.

  As she started to lead Mia away for a cooldown walk, Mack pushed back from the fence and fell into step on her right side. “Don’t be such a wet blanket. You did good today, but I still think you need to focus on the fundamentals. I suspect you paid more attention to speed than to the basics over the years.”

  She didn’t want to answer him because he’d hit the nail square on the head. “It’s been a long time since those lessons with Loretta. The more recent runs were about blowing off steam and disengaging from the reality of my day. It’s possible I let some of the basics slide.”

  Nodding, he said, “I figured as much. I think with a little tweaking you have it in you to excel.”

  She rounded her eyes in mock astonishment. “Mack McLeroy, was that a compliment?”

  “Maybe,” he said, shooting her a mischievous look. “And maybe I’m just buttering you up.”

  “Now that I’d believe.”

  His grin was instant and surprisingly disarming. “But maybe I’m not one to withhold praise when it’s been earned.”

  Working not to return the smile, she shook her head. “Definitely buttering me up.”

  He laughed aloud, his green eyes sparkling in the bright Texas sunshine. The sound seemed to go straight through her, eliciting an unexpected flutter in her lower belly. “I guess we’ll have to wait and see. And speaking of wait and see, I’m curious how you’ll do in competition.”

  The small flutter in her stomach turned into full-on butterflies at the mention of competing. “You and me both. It’s not easy having the fate of a famous bull rider’s reputation resting on my shoulders.”

  He acknowledged her small barb with a wry twist of his lips. Shrugging, he said, “I guess we’ll find out next weekend.”

  She froze, her eyes widening. “Next weekend?” Excitement and nervousness and more than a little anxiety rushed through her in a tangle.

  “Yup. I signed you up for Dallas. That gives us ten days to get you rodeo-ready.”

  Ten days?

  She pulled Mia to a stop and hopped down. Her legs were the slightest bit wobbly, but she hoped he wouldn’t notice. “When did you do that? How? What are the logistics? I didn’t imagine it would be so quick!”

  He held up his hands in the universal “chill out” gesture. “Calm down, princess. You said you wanted to race, so I got the ball rolling. Given your skill level, that should be more than enough time to get you ready.”

  Yes, of course. This was what she wanted, right? She swallowed against the rising tide of emotions and nodded. “You’re right, I know.”

  His grin was way too inviting. “Now there’s a sentence I never expected to hear out of your mouth.”

  Always such a smart-ass.

  “Well, here’s another,” she said, bypassing his attempt to goad her. “Get us a pair of rooms at whatever hotel the rodeo works with. And make sure they’re close to each other—I don’t want you ditching me once you see your buddies.”

  Groaning, he pulled off his hat and raked a hand through his hair. “Speaking of my buddies, and that reputation we already spoke of, what do you say to telling people I’m your boyfriend?”

  Ashley half snorted, half choked as she gaped at him as if he was crazy. Because he was. “Not just no, but hell no.” She’d played that role once upon a time, and it wasn’t one she planned to repeat. “And by the way, no one would ever buy that story.”

  She started walking again, but his long legs easily kept pace as she followed the fence line.

  “Why not? You’re a beautiful girl, and everyone knows my reputation with beauties.” He waggled his eyebrows.

  H
e was not helping his case. “I’m a woman, not a girl, and everyone knows I don’t suffer fools—you in particular,” she said, even though her pulse seemed to kick up whenever he was close.

  “Everyone here knows that, but the world doesn’t end with Sunnybell. No one in Dallas will know anything about you, so they’d have no reason to think you wouldn’t happily suffer fools.” He gave her a cajoling grin, which also did nothing to help his case.

  “Yeah, but whether they know me or not, no one would believe there was even an ounce of chemistry between us.”

  One second they were keeping stride with each other, and the next he had somehow swung her around until her back was to the fence. He was up against her, almost but not quite touching her as his hands rested against the fence rails on either side of her shoulders. The movement was so smooth it was as though they’d been dancing.

  “Sure about that?” he breathed, his eyes challenging and yet somehow seductive.

  The air was suddenly charged around them, and her heart galloped like a runaway racehorse in her chest, stealing the air from her lungs. His nearness was as intoxicating as it was unexpected, and she found herself breathing in his leather-and-aftershave scent.

  It was the scent of both her first love and her first heartbreak.

  For a handful of seconds, she stood there, trying to catch her breath and remember why she hated him. He held her gaze all the while, at once infuriating her and making her body hum. The latter was what held her in thrall.

  He radiated confidence and masculinity, and something deep inside her responded to it in the most elemental way possible. It was just like when she’d been a boy crazy teenager, and one word from him had made her melt into a puddle. His green eyes were so gorgeous, nearly hypnotic, and she had to force herself to look away from them now.

  It did the trick.

  Finally, her senses snapped back and she ducked beneath his arm. Even as her heart continued to thunder and her lungs fought to regain normal breathing, she stalked back toward the barn, knowing that Mia would follow.

  She was halfway there before she finally trusted her voice. Without looking back, she called out over her shoulder, “I’m more than sure.”

  And she hoped like hell she could make that the truth.

  Chapter 9

  Pulling up to the hotel in Dallas was like pulling up to his past. It was late, since they’d taken over an hour to get Mia settled at the venue’s horse accommodations, but the parking lot was full of people coming and going.

  From his spot in the passenger seat of Ashley’s eight-year-old F-250 Super Duty—it still chafed that she refused to let him drive—Mack inspected the cars in the parking lot. He was glad for the dark tint on the truck’s windows, since he wanted to get his bearings without worrying about being seen yet. He recognized at least half a dozen trucks on sight and saw a solid handful of people he knew.

  His jaw tightened as he drew in a deep breath. This was the moment of truth. The second he stepped out of this truck, he was officially back in the world he had left on his own terms two years ago in order to pursue professional bull riding. It was hard to predict what his reception would be, especially once they learned why he was here.

  Damn Ashley and her refusal to play along with his boyfriend plan. He hated feeling like her lackey, forced to bend to her demands or risk losing his one chance to keep his head above water. Scowling, he glanced over at her, taking in the tense line of her shoulders and the frown pulling down the corners of her Cupid’s bow lips.

  Good. At least he wasn’t the only one feeling stressed.

  She found a spot and maneuvered the wide truck into place before shutting off the engine and turning to face him. “I’ll get us checked in and then we can head to dinner. After that, you can introduce me around. I imagine the bar will be crawling with rodeo people tonight.”

  More unilateral decisions.

  She’d been distant but professional since the ill-thought-out chemistry test he’d given her. Ten days of curt nods and brisk responses was enough to drive him crazy, and at this point, he wanted nothing more than to break loose from her for a while.

  “You know what?” he said, unbuckling his seat belt and setting his hand on the door handle. “I see a few of my old friends heading across the parking lot to the steak house. I think I’ll go join them. Just leave the room key at the front desk for me. We can meet up bright and early tomorrow morning and start the introductions then.”

  The small flicker of what looked like panic in her eyes was quickly drowned out by apparent annoyance. “I’m not giving you a wad of cash to go blow with your buddies,” she said. “If you want me to pay, then you’ll have to wait for me to come join you.”

  Mack jerked opened the door and climbed down onto the pavement. “Well then, I guess I don’t want you to pay.”

  It was beyond stupid, since he couldn’t afford to buy a drink at that restaurant, let alone a meal, but at that point, his pride was more important than his stomach. It was the only thing he had left in the world.

  Ashley could hardly believe it when he slammed the door and started across the parking lot, his gait stiff enough to betray his still-healing injuries. He was seriously ditching her? Again?

  She shook her head and yanked her keys from the ignition. Why did she ever think she could trust him? She’d always known that his own interests would come before hers—or anyone else’s, for that matter. Actually, that was exactly why she’d been willing to make this bargain. He needed her too badly to screw her over like this.

  Apparently he’d forgotten that little fact.

  Well, if he was worried about what his buddies would think of their arrangement, then fine. She’d give him a pass tonight, since it was late and the rodeo didn’t officially start until tomorrow, but the pass wouldn’t come free. With newfound purpose, she headed inside, checked in, and went to her room to wait.

  It was almost midnight before the text came. Where’s the key?

  She waited a full minute before typing back, mainly because she could. Come to my room—224.

  She had the door open before he could even knock. He stood there, his hair slightly mussed and his shirt untucked, looking like something straight out of a Stetson cologne ad.

  “Well,” she said, raising an eyebrow at the smell of beer that wafted toward her, “looks like you could at least afford a few drinks.”

  He shook his head, then leaned against the doorjamb. “Nope. Old friends happy to see me, and even happier to buy me a drink.”

  “Or three.”

  “Exactly three. And no, I’m not drunk. Just a little buzzed.”

  She hated to admit it, but there was something sexy about buzzed Mack. His joints seemed more limber, and his green eyes watched her openly instead of resentfully. The fact that she found him attractive after the way he’d treated her tonight made her even angrier at both of them.

  Stalking to the dresser, she grabbed up her car keys and tossed them to him. He fumbled to catch them, then looked up at her in confusion. “I literally just said I’m buzzed. I’m in no condition to be driving anywhere.”

  “I can see that. That’s not why I’m giving them to you. There was a problem with our reservations, and they only had one room.”

  He blinked, clearly not getting her point. “We have to share a room?”

  “Not on your life,” she said, crossing her arms over the pink tank top that served as her pajama top. “You’re sleeping in the truck. Hence the keys.”

  His brow furrowed as he glanced down to the keys and back at her. “That wasn’t the deal. What about one of the hotels across the street?”

  “Sorry,” she said sweetly. “They are too expensive for my budget. Don’t worry. The seats fold down almost all the way, so you should be plenty comfortable. If that doesn’t work, well, they don’t call it a truck bed for nothing.”

  Suspicion clouded his eyes as he pinned her with a glare. “The truck bed. How the hell am I supposed to get any slee
p in there?”

  “Hmm, I suppose you’re right. God forbid you sleep in something so epically uncomfortable as a truck bed,” she said, throwing his words from the previous week right back at him. “Maybe some of your old buddies will let you sleep with them?”

  It was all she could do not to laugh at the look on his face. It was clear that he knew he’d been boxed neatly into a corner with this one. Stuffing the keys into his pocket, he turned and strode down the corridor toward the stairs.

  “See you at eight,” she called after him, not even trying to keep the smile from her voice. She knew she’d probably pay for this tomorrow, when he’d be as surly as a bear with a thorn in its butt, but right now she counted this one as a win.

  Chapter 10

  There wasn’t enough coffee in the world to make up for the sleep Mack had gotten last night. Or rather, the sleep he hadn’t gotten. The morning had not gone well, thanks to his unhappy spine and his mutually pissed off companion. So far he and Ashley had more or less avoided each other, tending to separate tasks and communicating more like cavemen than like colleagues, with curt hand signals and one-word comments.

  Luckily, he hadn’t yet had to worry about introducing Ashley or explaining his presence here. Since he’d seen the people he’d known or recognized only when he was alone, Mack had been using the line that he was here with an old friend. Thanks to his injury, he didn’t have anything better to do anyway. No one had questioned him further.

  But Mack was dreading the moment when Ashley would force the issue. God forbid he call himself her friend, or anything else. She was bound and determined to keep punishing him for his stupid actions years ago.

  He made it all the way until a few minutes before her race, when his luck ran out. As he led Ashley and Mia toward the arena, Mack spotted Jocelyn Creech, a barrel racer he’d known for years. She recognized him at once and came hurrying over. Quickly releasing Mia’s reins, he strode forward a few steps to meet her. Her hug was more than a little friendly and he only just kept from grunting at the quick jolt of pain it caused.