Rodeo Dreams

by Sarah M. Anderson

  “The bulls aren’t mean enough.” Travis glanced at her. “You need to identify the meanest, rankest cows and breed them to the toughest bulls you’ve got.”

  “How long would that take?”

  “Normally, two or three years. You might be able to shave a year off that.”

  “What else?”

  “Robin doesn’t seem to know a lot about bull futurities—the minor leagues for bulls. You’d need to start entering them, showing the bulls without riders—just weights tied to their backs. That’s one way in.”

  “And the other?” Joseph sounded like he was teaching high school, leading his pupil to the correct answer.

  “You’d need to get a manager with connections in the TCB—someone who knows who carries the most weight, who needs their wheels greased. It’s all who you know.”

  Looking slowly from June back to Travis, Joseph cocked his eyebrow. Always with the damned eyebrow, was all June could think. It was his tell.

  “The only person we know is you.”

  She stopped breathing. June knew Travis wasn’t trying to break her hand, but he clamped down hard. “Me?”

  “I’d like to make you an offer. I’ve promised Robin the capital to see this through, but as you said, he needs someone who knows a lot more about the TCB than a ten-year-old boy ever will.”

  “Me?” Travis asked again.

  Joseph always took care of his people. He must be counting Travis in that circle now. Travis was his people because Travis was hers.

  Joseph nodded, a well-thought-out gesture that matched his well-thought-out plan. “You. You can think about it. But if you’d like the job after this season ends, it will be here. The Real Pride Ranch pays well, offers health insurance and we’d make sure you had a place to live. If you chose to keep riding next year, I’m sure we could work around that, as well. You’d have a place to come back to.”

  “I thought he said we were just looking at the bulls?”

  Joseph seemed to understand what Travis was trying to say. “It was really more of an informal job interview. Robin’s right—this is his deal. He wants me to call him Chief Contracting Officer. I need someone who can work with a kid—but who knows that I’m still the CEO.”

  “Me?”

  “You. If you want the job.”

  “You’re serious?”

  June couldn’t help it. She was almost giddy. “Babe,” she whispered, “Joseph is always serious.”

  Stunned, Travis sat there.

  “Well?” Robin shouted from upstairs, breaking the moment. “Yes or no?”

  “What just happened?” Travis muttered.

  “Still thinking!” she shouted up to Robin as she pulled Travis to his feet and out the door. Joseph watched them go.

  “What the hell just happened?” Travis repeated as she led him down the steps and away from the house.

  It was a fair question. “I think you got a job.”

  “With benefits? Did I just get a job with benefits?”

  June opened her mouth to reply, but all that came out was a giggle. At the sound, Travis picked her up and spun her around. His strong arms around her, without a hitch in his stride. The best place in the world to be right now.

  “A job, sweetheart,” he said, setting her down with a hard kiss.

  “A good job,” she corrected. “A job you are highly qualified for. A job that pays well.”

  He spun her again, holding her tight to his chest. She could feel his heart pounding, and she knew hers was going top speed, too. But a suddenly reliable future could do that to people.

  “No more True West torture! No more living in a crappy camper! No more worrying!”

  “Travis, you’re shouting,” she said, silencing him with a kiss. So what if she felt like shouting, too?

  His hands ran down her back. “God, June,” he whispered in her ear. “All because of you. You are the best thing that’s ever happened to me.” His lips moved down her ear to her neck. “The best.”

  The nerve-tingling excitement of the moment quickly began to tingle in other spots, too. When he shoved his thigh between her legs, things went from tingling to throbbing in a heartbeat. Oh, boy—where could they go? Joseph and Leslie wouldn’t appreciate it if they ran and locked themselves in the bedroom—maybe behind the barn? A moment like this called for celebration.

  “Is that a yes?”

  They both spun to see Robin hanging out of his bedroom window, watching them. “Crap,” Travis said, moving away so fast that June stumbled into him.

  This was the problem with surrogate little brothers. Just as irritating as the real thing. “If we say yes, will you leave us alone?” she shouted back.

  “Woo-hoo! I’m going to tell Dad!” He slammed the window shut.

  “Come on.” She grabbed Travis’s hand and pulled him into the woods. They stumbled into the shade of the trees but she couldn’t slow down. The weight between her legs was so heavy it was about to bring her to her knees.

  She found a huge pine, its branches low to the ground. She pulled the branches apart. Underneath was a soft bed of pine needles. Perfect. “Here.”

  They crawled into the safe space. “All because of you,” Travis said as he began unbuckling her belt.

  “Now, babe. Now,” she said as she tried to get a hold of his buckle. The heaviness between her legs was about to drive her crazy. After a week of having him, she needed him even more.

  “No.” Even though he was on his knees, he managed to sweep her feet out from under her. “Let me do this for you. All for you.”

  The pine needles were soft under her back as he peeled her jeans off her and then unbuttoned her blouse. “White,” he said, his voice thick in his throat as he took her breast in his mouth, bra and all. His tongue left a wet trail as he moved lower. “Love you in white.” His lips reached her panties.

  The warmth of his mouth surrounded her through the fabric as his hands raced down her legs to her feet. He leaned back long enough to get her socks off, but was back to her before she could do anything but suck in the air. The sensation had her doing a whole lot more than shivering.

  No one had ever gone down on her before. Truth be told, the very idea had always made her a little nervous. But with the thin fabric of formerly virginal white panties between them, she surrendered herself to nothing but warmth and softness.

  His fingers wrapped around the underside of her toes. It didn’t tickle much, but just enough to jolt her halfway off the ground. “Easy, babe,” he said as he nipped the top of her panties in his mouth. “I want you to make the time.”

  Then he pulled. Her panties slid down her hips. Cool air rushed to all the warmest, wettest spots before his mouth covered her again. “Mmmm.” God, she could feel that sound all the way to her very core. The heaviness pressed down on her, squeezing her lungs until she couldn’t even breathe.

  Everything tightened—even her toes around his fingers. He groaned into her, and the heaviness suddenly exploded into a shower of white lightness.

  His tongue danced over her one more time before he pulled away. Still kneeling between her legs, he undid his jeans and rolled on a condom.

  He rocked into her. The scent of her sex was still on his beard as he kissed her lips, her neck, her chest. “All for you.”

  She wrapped her legs around his waist, her hands finding the scars on his neck, then his hip. He found a rhythm and rolled with it.

  She didn’t know if this was the short or the long, she only knew he was having a hell of a go. Better than the best ride, the adrenaline rush of loving Travis was what she had been put on this earth to do. She belonged with him. When he groaned, his back arched, driving him deeper into her.

  All she could do was explode in the lightness again.

  Travis lay on top of h
er, panting. “I want to stay with you, June.”

  Stay. Her body shimmied around his. The lightness between her legs flowed from her to him and back again, a bond that couldn’t be broken by disentangling their bodies. She pushed his hair out of his eyes and leaned up to kiss him. “You mean live together?”

  He held her face, his thumb stroking her skin. “Yeah.”

  It was something simple, something uncomplicated. Whatever else happened outside of their world—bulls or gay cowboys or crappy campers—nothing could touch them. “Travis,” she said, curling up against his good side, “you’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me, too.”

  “Good.”

  It was.

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  “HOW ABOUT THIS ONE?” Ian said without moving from where he was draped over his truck door. He’d been asking the same thing about every cowboy that got within twenty feet of them at this rodeo for the last half hour.

  June glanced over her shoulder to see Randy Sloap edging toward them. “No, he’s fine.”

  “Hmph,” Ian said, like this was disappointing news. He cracked his knuckles.

  “Hey, June,” Randy said, freezing in his tracks.

  “Hey, Randy.”

  “Uh...” He nervously cleared his throat. “I just wanted to see, you know, if you were okay.”

  Ian growled at him.

  Worse than Jeff. At least Jeff listened to her commands. Any control she had over Ian was illusionary, at best. “I’m fine.”

  “You broke up with Mitch?” Randy actually scuffed his toe on the asphalt.

  “You heard that?” Everyone had heard it. The Preacher had done exactly as expected. “Yeah, it’s over.”

  “So...you and Travis, huh?”

  Ian slammed the truck door and took a menacing step forward. The color evacuating his face, Randy took three quick steps back.

  “He was drunk—or at least, he better have been.” June hoped she sounded disdainful.

  “I can’t wait to meet this Travis,” Ian snarled.

  Sheesh. She never should have asked him to be a part of the plan.

  “Yeah.” Randy was clearly buying the intimidation act, hook, line and sinker, but she didn’t want him to start a new round of rumors. “Randy, this is my cousin, Ian Tall Chief. Ian, Randy Sloap.”

  “Hey.” Randy managed to half wave. At least he was smart enough not to shake Ian’s hand. “You still going to the bar after the gos? If you want someone to dance...with...you...”

  Was he putting his life on the line to ask her out? Who knew the whippersnapper had it in him? June had to physically hold Ian back. He let her, so at least he was still on the right page.

  “Actually,” she said, shoving Ian back toward the truck, “I think I’m going to stay out of the bars from here on out. Vegas is coming up, you know. I need to focus on riding.”

  And Travis. A lot of that time was going to be focused on Travis.

  Looking a little crestfallen and simultaneously grateful that he might escape with his dignity intact, Randy started to back away in earnest. “Yeah, sure. Of course.”

  It was sweet, really. All this time, Randy had been harboring a crush. Good kid, she thought. But she’d rather have a man. Her man. “Have a good ride, Randy.”

  “Yeah. You, too.”

  “Jeez,” Ian muttered. “That’s a bull rider? Looks like a busboy at a steakhouse.”

  “That’s what most of them are,” she replied. “Same age you are.”

  “Did you just compare me to that?” He whistled as a buckle bunny waved at Randy. “And the busboy’s going to go home with that girl tonight? Man, I need to get into rodeos.”

  She glared at him. “Ian, focus. You are my bodyguard, okay?”

  “This is way more complicated than I can handle, Junie. When do I get to meet the old boyfriend?”

  “Not here.” By all rights, Ian should beat the hell out of Mitch and that wasn’t what she wanted to happen. “Just keep looking badass, okay?”

  “Can do,” he replied, flexing his muscles under the tight white T-shirt.

  She turned her attention back to her spurs, trying to find the inner peace she needed to have before the home crowd. About half the tribe was here. Even Uncle Dave was in the house—but he’d promised not to scare Mort.

  Her Zen moment was short-lived.

  “Well, well, well.” At first she recoiled from Red’s sneer, but then she caught herself. She was packing heat this time—and his name was Ian. For the first time in her life, June was glad to hear Red’s voice. He had no idea who he was messing with, and she was going to enjoy the show.

  “Who’s this week’s boy toy, Pocahontas?”

  Ian exploded in a flurry of movement—the same smooth speed that had earned him a spot on the South Dakota All State High School Team as middle linebacker. It was all June could do to get out of his way as he hit Red so hard that June swore she could see Red’s spurs dragging sparks on the parking lot.

  She’d have thought, all these months after she nearly broke his arm and little more than a week after Travis gave him a shiner, that the idiot would have learned to keep his big mouth shut. That was the reliable thing about idiots. They never learned.

  Well, Ian was going to do his darnedest to teach him. When the tangle of Ian and Red came to a stop fifteen feet away, Ian had him pinned to a gate, forearm cutting off Red’s air. “What did you say about my cousin?”

  “Cuz—cuz?” was all Red could get out.

  So much for subtle. As much as she enjoyed watching Red on the verge of meeting his maker, if Ian leaned in any harder, the cops were going to get involved. “Ian.”

  He took a step back and watched Red crumple. “Anyone else want to talk about my cousin? Anyone feeling lucky tonight?”

  That was laying it on a little thick. Dirty Harry he wasn’t. “Ayúštŋ,” she said. No one else would catch Lakota for “quit it” here.

  Randy rushed up. June heard him say, “Damn, Red, I could have told you that was her cousin! Are you insane?” as he hefted Red to his feet and got him as far away from Ian as possible.

  “That was fun.” Ian sounded perfectly happy even as he scowled the whole way back to the truck. “Anyone else you need me to beat up? I take it he was tops on the list.”

  “Oh, yeah. That should do it.” Enough people had seen that little spectacle that she should have a wide berth for the rest of the night. She hadn’t seen Travis yet—he’d be sorry he missed that.

  She dug out her rosin and got to work. It took a little longer than normal, but she was able let her mind clear. Tractor Trailer was her bull for the long, one of those little bulls that thought he was one of the big ones. He had a reputation for bouncing all four legs like he was a pinball machine and the rider was the pinball.

  She could do this. She just had to roll with the bull.

  “Travis,” Ian whispered. Then he said, “Watch it, buddy,” sounding like a traffic cop.

  Mmmm. Travis. Since he’d kissed her goodbye this morning, she’d been nothing but lonely in ways she didn’t know were possible.

  She’d gotten really good at pretending in the last four months but he was still a novice. Hopefully, he’d stick to the script. He had to apologize and do it convincingly. “What do you want?” she asked without turning around.

  “Uh...” He cleared his throat. “I wanted to apologize for last weekend.”

  So far, so good. June pivoted, taking in the magnitude of the audience. Everyone was present and accounted for. She even spotted Mitch in the distance. “Is that so?”

  Oh, it had to be wrong to think that he looked positively adorable right now, hat in hand, a studied expression of remorse on his face.

  “Is this that ex-boyfriend?” Ian asked, putting all
his weight behind the ex as he pounded his fist into his palm. “Just say the word, Cousin, and he’s dog meat.”

  What did he think he was doing? “No, don’t—not yet, okay?” Ian nodded, but took an overprotective step between her and Travis. “Go on,” she said to Travis.

  “I know that being drunk is no excuse for being stupid. What I did was stupid and wrong, and I apologize for crossing a line.”

  So far, so good. Didn’t have to be a history teacher to know that winners got to write the past. And since she and Travis were going to be the big winners, they got to rewrite last week however they wanted. And what was most convenient was that Travis had been roaring drunk.

  She had to bite her lip to keep from grinning. He was nailing his part like an old pro.

  “This is the guy?” Ian’s roar reminded her that there were, in fact, other people listening in. “I ought to pound you into an oil slick, buddy.”

  June honestly wasn’t sure if Travis was faking that look of terror or not. For the last few days, Ian had kept him guessing. It had been four long years since she’d ratted out Ian and his girlfriend du jour. She would have thought that he’d finally get over that, but it just wasn’t the case.

  “I don’t want to fight,” Travis added, looking earnest. “I just wanted to apologize and say that it will never happen again. And ask if you still wanted me to work your ropes.”

  Ian began to advance on Travis. “You little—”

  “Ian, knock it off!” Her attack cousin barely reined in, June turned back to her audience. She caught a glimpse of the Preacher with Mitch, no doubt offering words of comfort in his trying time. Red was nowhere to be seen, but just about everyone else was watching. She needed to get out of this and leave the door to a public Travis/June relationship open a crack.

  “Well...” She pretended to think about it while Ian laid it on thicker than Mitch ever had. “I’ve done real well with you working my ropes and I’d hate to mess with my luck.” Everyone would understand that. Heck, half these guys hadn’t washed their lucky jeans since the season had started.

  “I promise, it won’t happen again. I’m done drinking.”