A Bull Rider's Pride

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A Bull Rider's Pride Page 12

by Amanda Renee


  “I couldn’t really see outside, but it looks like you have stables back there.”

  “Come on.” Brady motioned to her. “I’ll give you a tour.”

  Sheila set her Coke on a makeshift coaster. “I don’t think we should. You’ve put your body through enough tonight.”

  “We’re not going to walk, we’re going to ride.” He enjoyed her wide-eyed expression. “Will you trust me?” He held out his hand to her.

  “I’ll trust you up until the point I don’t trust you.”

  Brady led her through the mudroom, and flicked on the outdoor lights. Once outside, he removed the cover from a yellow-and-black four-wheeler. He climbed on top, turned the key and checked to make sure it still ran. Satisfied, he cut the engine and waved her over.

  “Are you sure this is safe?” She stood beside him, staring at the seat.

  “Are you a four-wheeler virgin?” Brady asked. “I promise to be gentle. We won’t go more than ten miles an hour.” He scooted forward and patted the seat behind him. “Now hop on and wrap your arms around my waist.”

  She did as he instructed and he immediately regretted it. The feel of her breasts pressed against his back brought all his body parts to life, one in particular. Think football. Think bulls and bucking broncs. Think poker. Brady attempted to distract himself, praying her hands didn’t accidentally shift any lower.

  He started the engine and pulled around to the front of his house.

  “This small round enclosure is actually a training pen for horses. I had hoped to one day breed and train some of my own, but that’s a long way off. The previous owner had a nice little training business here.”

  He continued past the first pasture and down to the stables.

  “How many horses do you have?” She asked over his shoulder, her cheek pressed close against his ear.

  “Two.” His father had moved them to his property after Brady’s accident. “I’ll have to remove all these old hay bales and the grain I had stored from the spring before they can come home. I’ll need new bedding too. This whole stable needs to be thoroughly checked for snakes and critters. Three and a half months is a long time to sit empty.”

  Sheila tightened her grip around his waist and rested her head against his shoulder. The gesture warmed him in ways it shouldn’t. When she’d first climbed on behind him, he’d thought his feelings were pure lust. With each stop on their ranch mini tour, he noticed her clinging to him tighter and it felt good. It felt like home.

  “And lastly.” He pulled alongside a chicken coop that had definitely seen better days. “This is for the chickens I don’t have. Gunner wants pygmy goats, so I’ll probably just tear the coop down and build some form of an enclosure for the goats instead.”

  He parked the four-wheeler next to the back stairs. When Sheila climbed off, he immediately missed her touch. She waited for him to join her, offering her shoulder for support since he’d left his cane inside the back door. He wrapped his arm around her, flashing back to the men he’d seen at the county fair walking with their wives and girlfriends. Sheila fit nicely under his arm. The same way she fit nicely in his house. If he was a sentimental guy, he’d say she was made for him. He wasn’t sentimental, though. Not in the least. But he still believed she was made for him.

  “I don’t know what this thing is between you and me, but I’d like to ask you for another favor.” Brady popped a DVD into the player and joined her on the couch, clicking on the television with the remote. “I’ve seen you do your job and I appreciate how much it means to you. I want to share mine with you, at least what I can share of it from here.”

  Brady heard Sheila swallow hard. Even in the dimly lit room, he noticed her fingers dig into her thighs. Her trepidation took him a little by surprise. He already knew she was against him competing again, but he didn’t understand why she would be opposed to seeing some of his past performances. Clearly, he had survived them and it wasn’t like they were watching footage from his final ride atop GhostMaker. Or had she already seen it?

  “Have you seen me ride before?”

  Sheila shook her head. “No.”

  “Do you know anything about it or want me to explain—”

  “I’m aware of how it works.” Her features remained expressionless. “At least I have a general idea.”

  He wished she would ask him a question or two about riding or express some interest in an important part of his life. “Okay, what aren’t you telling me?”

  “Truth?”

  “Please.” The DVD stopped spinning in the player and the room fell uneasily silent.

  “I’m okay with the rodeo and all the other events. At least I think I am. But they weren’t what landed you in my OR. It’s you talking about getting back on a bull that gets to me. There are multiple events you can compete in. Why bull riding?”

  “I believe in facing my fears head-on.”

  Sheila’s brows rose at his confession.

  “Yes, a part of me is scared to get back on a bull,” he said. “But a bigger part is scared not to.”

  “And I’m afraid we’ll watch this video and it will give you even more incentive to ride again. It terrifies me. I’m not just saying that from a doctor’s perspective. I— Whatever this is—I don’t want to think about you putting yourself in a position to get hurt again. The night you were admitted did something to me. You do something to me.” Sheila sighed. “I will watch this because I know how much it means to you. So if you’re going to play it, do it now before I change my mind.”

  Brady hadn’t time to process her admission before she grabbed the remote from him and pressed Play. “This is—um—a highlight reel from last year that one of my sponsors compiled.” He shifted slightly so he could watch the screen and her at the same time. She sucked in a breath the instant the chute gate swung wide. Brady had been so concerned with her reactions he hadn’t factored in his own.

  The first highlight was a bull ride from the San Antonio Stock Show & Rodeo atop Land Mine. As the bull bucked and twisted, his adrenaline rose. Instinctively he turned his palm up as if he had a bull rope in hand. He tightened his grip and closed his eyes as the next one played from the La Fiesta de los Vaqueros Tucson Rodeo in Arizona when he successfully rode Cajun Fury. It had been one of his most perfect eight-second rides even though the bull had surprised him and spun away from his hand. He could still feel the muscular animal breathing between his thighs before the chute opened. The smell of the rosin, the taste of the arena dirt and the clang of the bull rope’s metal bell. He inhaled deeply as if he were actually in the arena taking it all in.

  Then he remembered where he was. His eyes shot open. He was almost afraid to look at Sheila. He braved a quick glance as a highlight from Casper, Wyoming, played. She sat perched on the edge of the couch, smiling at him. She turned back to the screen and continued to watch each event until the reel ended.

  Sheila clicked off the television and scooted back against the couch. “Okay, so maybe I don’t understand how it all works,” she finally said. “But I get where you’re coming from. I respect your wanting to honor your mom and I can even appreciate your drive to compete. While you didn’t always land on your feet during those however many events, you did walk away relatively unscathed. That still doesn’t mean I like it.”

  Brady had expected questions, concerns, or possibly an argument. He definitely hadn’t anticipated her understanding his passion. At least not without a lot of convincing. That was good wasn’t it? Then why was he more nervous than he’d been before he played the DVD?

  “Would you consider watching me compete someday?” he asked.

  She laughed nervously. “You need to ask me that question again at a later date.”

  A later date was her polite way of saying if you ever compete again. He could live with that. It wasn’t a no. It was a start. “I know
Dance of Hope is for my own good, but do you have any idea when I might be able to come home?’

  “Brady, you can go home anytime you want, although I strongly advise you to wait a bit longer since you live alone. You don’t need me or Dance of Hope to release you.” Sheila slipped off her shoes and tucked a long bare leg beneath her. “The only thing you need me to do is sign off on your driving because Dr. Mangone hadn’t cleared you for that. You’ll need to be off all the heavy-duty pain killers and able to adequately brake and accelerate for me to give you the go-ahead. There’s a test they conduct at Dance of Hope that you can take whenever you want. You’ll have to pass it a few consecutive times and then you can drive again.”

  “I haven’t taken any painkillers since my first week at Dance of Hope. You can even check my prescription bottles at the cottage.”

  “That’s great. I had no idea.”

  “You didn’t ask. The nurses and Marissa did, but you’ve been too busy avoiding me.” Brady instantly felt guilty for bringing up their rift. He was the one who’d asked her to leave and then yelled at her for trying to help him. He’d been an ass and she was right to avoid him.

  “And they should ask. It’s their job to monitor your meds. For the record, I was not avoiding you. Okay, today I was. But only because of how we left things last week.”

  “You mean after I kissed you.”

  “Do you really want to rehash this right now?” Sheila asked.

  “No, but I would like to kiss you again, if you’d let me.” Brady knew he shouldn’t push, but he’d hate himself in the morning if he didn’t at least try.

  “I thought we discussed this at the fairgrounds.” Sheila’s smile led him to believe she might say yes.

  “You discussed it, I argued.”

  “True. You did argue.” She pressed her lips together slightly as if she were blotting lipstick on a tissue.

  “Spend the night with me.” It wasn’t a question—it was a statement. Desire had grown to need and he was tired of tiptoeing around it.

  “That’s way more than kissing.” She looked down at her hands. “Is that what you had in mind when you brought me here?”

  “You were in the driver’s seat so you brought me here. And no, I didn’t have that in mind. I still don’t have that in mind. It may have crossed it, but that’s not why I’m asking you to stay. Tonight has been a roller coaster. I wanted to feel normal so I decided to meet you at the county fair only to realize I wasn’t prepared enough to handle it on my own. I watched all these couples going by and realized how much I want that. And I’ll admit, I want that with you. I understand and respect why we can’t be together, but—”

  “But what?” Sheila moved closer to him on the couch.

  He reached out and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. “When I’m with you, I feel like I can do anything. You make me feel whole again. I haven’t felt whole since long before the accident. There was always something missing and I can’t help but wonder if that something was you. You fill this big void in my life and I keep telling myself it’s wrong. And I know you’re doing the same thing. But is it? Is it really wrong to want you as much as I do—to feel the way I feel about you?

  “Brady, true feelings are never wrong. Sometimes we have to rein in our hearts, but a very wise woman told me recently we can’t help who we fall in love with. And I’m not saying you’ve fallen in love with me or that I’ve fallen in love with you, but I find it impossible to deny that I have a real attraction to you. One I can’t escape.”

  Brady cupped the back of her head and drew her closer to him. “Tell me I can kiss you.”

  Sheila’s eyes fluttered closed. “You can kiss me.” Her voice was barely a whisper.

  His mouth slanted over hers, her lips soft and gentle against his. She eased her body into his arms, splaying her fingertips across his chest. Her arms wound around his neck, guiding him closer. “Tell me you’ll spend the night.”

  Sheila nodded slowly. Tilting her head back exposing her neck and throat, he nudged her thin cotton chemise lower, exposing the white lace of her bra. One peaked nipple strained against the material, begging to be freed.

  “I need to hear you say the words,” Brady whispered against her breast.

  “I’ll stay the night with you,” Sheila moaned. She released herself from his embrace, long enough to raise her arms, allowing him to lift her shirt over her head. She reached behind her back, and unfastened her bra, exposing her breasts to him. “But only tonight.”

  “You’re exquisite.” Brady dipped his head to taste one hardened nipple and then the other. Rolling his thumbs over them, he trailed kisses across her chest and up her neck until he reached her mouth again. He stood, holding his hand out to her. “Let me make love to you in my bed.”

  She allowed him to lead the way upstairs, his body aching in anticipation. Brady had intended to take the lead in the bedroom too, but Sheila had other plans.

  She guided him to the bed and patted the edge for him to sit. Wearing only a pair khaki shorts, she stood between his thighs, allowing him to unfasten them and ease the zipper down. Before he could release her from their confines, she stepped back and slowly slid them past her hips until she stood before him wearing only a pair of red lacy underwear. He hadn’t expected her to wear something so tantalizing. Then again, he was learning to expect the unexpected when it came to Sheila.

  “It’s your turn, cowboy.” She closed the distance between them, allowing him to take one of her breasts into his mouth again as she urged his shirt up and over his shoulders. “Tonight I want to explore all of you.”

  Brady inhaled sharply. She had seen his scars before. She’d even touched them during his exams, but this was different. She eased him backward on the bed and he wanted nothing more than to pull her down on top of him to hide his scarred body and lose himself in her. She resisted. Unfastening his jeans, he lifted his hips, allowing her to free him fully. Lying there exposed to her, there was no denying his attraction. There was no hiding from her penetrating gaze either.

  Any fears he had of her rejecting his body faded when she climbed onto the bed beside him. Trailing her fingers along every scar, she followed them with featherlight kisses. It was as if time stood still. Brady’s breathing slowed in rhythmic pace with hers as she explored his body one inch at a time. He’d never experienced such tenderness—such passion and joy—at the same time. And when she finally straddled him, joining their bodies together, she completed him.

  Sheila was his, if only for one night. At least he’d know what it felt like to love her.

  Chapter Ten

  Sheila awoke the next morning, deliciously sore. Nestled against his chest, she peeked under the sheets. Yep, he was still there—all of him. It had never felt so good to be so bad. She didn’t know if sex with Brady always felt that incredible or if it was because she wasn’t supposed to be having sex with Brady. Either way, it had been more romantic and amazing than she had imagined.

  Sheila ran her hand up his chest, his scars brutal reminders of his career choice. Forbidden romance or not, it didn’t change his plan to risk everything atop a one-ton animal again. After watching the DVD, she could better understand his passion for bull riding, but she still didn’t think she could live with it.

  Sun filtered through the windows, bathing them in renewed hopes and dreams. She’d grown up believing every day was a fresh start regardless of the prior days’ events. Sheila didn’t know if she should consider last night a mistake or the chance at a future together. She wanted Brady to have a future filled with options. Once she spoke with Kay Langtry about the possibility of his working at Dance of Hope, maybe he’d realize the world wasn’t as black-and-white as he thought it was.

  Brady stirred beside her. She rubbed her bare leg against his thigh while she began kissing his chest, working her way down. She wante
d to wake Brady in the best way possible. His fingers entwined with hers, pulling her up to his mouth. He shifted his weight beneath her until she was sitting astride him.

  “If you’re going to wake me up,” Brady growled, “this is how we’re going to start the morning.”

  By the time she made it out of bed two hours later, her legs shook with pleasure. The man was insatiable and that suited her just fine. It had been years since Sheila had felt this free. She heard a light knock at the bathroom door. She opened it, wearing nothing but a smile. Brady gave her an appreciative glance before making his way to the sink. Before she’d made it back to the bedroom, she felt a hand around her waist pulling her toward him.

  “Brady, we have to stop.” She half crawled, half walked into his bedroom and collapsed across the bed. “I am forbidding you from physical therapy today.” Sheila noticed the time on the bedside table. It was almost eleven o’clock. “You need to let someone at Dance of Hope know that you’re home and not lying unconscious inside your cottage. They’re probably wondering where you are.”

  “I texted Thomas this morning when you were still sleeping.” Brady eased into bed beside her. “He said he’d tell everyone I’d be missing therapy today and that I should say hello to you.”

  Sheila sat upright. “He said what?”

  Brady laughed. “I’m just kidding.” He attempted to tug her into his arms, but she escaped his grasp. “You don’t think I would honestly betray you like that, do you?”

  “I hope not.” Sheila began to relax again. “I need to take a shower. Alone.”

  Brady pouted. “Solo showers are no fun.”

 

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