The Bull Rider's Valentine

by Cathy McDavid

  Not once, though, had he gotten a closeup of the animal’s massive body from three inches away, his entire lower half pinned between the bull’s flank and the metal wall of a bucking chute.

  One second longer and he’d have been crushed like an aluminum can, his life flashing before his eyes. He didn’t enjoy admitting that even after being pulled from harm’s way by four pairs of strong hands, his heart still beat with the force of a jackhammer and sweat coated every inch of his skin.

  “That was mighty close,” Spence Bohanan said, relief in his voice.

  “Yeah, a little too close.” Nate managed a weak grin for Frankie’s fiancé.

  After sharing a beer at the Poco Dinero two evenings earlier, Spence had agreed to lend Nate a hand with the bull riding events. Considering Spence was one of the men who’d pulled Nate to safety, he was damn glad he’d asked.

  It felt good making a friend in town. More than one if he counted Theo.

  “I owe you big-time,” Nate said to Spence. “You could have been hurt saving me.”

  “Nothing you wouldn’t do for me in return.”

  It was true, and not just because of an unspoken cowboy code. Nate genuinely liked Spence.

  “Let me by, let me by! Nate, my God, are you all right? Answer me.”

  Nate turned to see Ronnie pushing through the small crowd surrounding him as if digging herself out of quicksand. She wore the same concerned expression she had countless times in the past when she’d rushed over after he’d been thrown from a bull or narrowly avoided the kick of an angry steer.

  “If I were any better, I’d be ten feet tall.”

  Funny, he hadn’t uttered that expression in years. If fact, he’d forgotten about it until now.

  She reached him and, after a moment’s hesitation, threw herself into his arms. Clinging tight, she said, “Stop joking.”

  “I’m fine. Feel around while you’re at it. No broken bones.”

  He thought she might pull away at his reference to her hanging-on-for-dear-life hug. Instead, she gripped him even tighter. His pulse skyrocketed, this time for an entirely different reason. He quite enjoyed having her anchored to him, their bodies connecting in all the right places. In another minute, he’d stop caring where they were and who was watching and kiss her. He just might do it anyway.

  “You scared me,” she said, her warm breath skimming across the patch of exposed skin above his shirt collar.

  Forgetting about Spence and the bull and the crowd in the bleachers, he centered his attention on Ronnie. “Scared myself, too.”

  They’d agreed after last Sunday that any involvement was a bad idea. Holding her and reacquainting himself with the lovely curves hidden beneath her hoodie, Nate couldn’t help reconsidering.

  “What happened?” She attempted to ease away from him.

  He didn’t let go, refusing to end the moment. But reality returned, and the curious stares searing into them had him dropping his arm. Reluctantly. While he didn’t care who saw them, Ronnie might.

  “Damn strap came loose and slipped down. I thought I could grab it quick. Mad Max wasn’t too keen on sharing his personal space. Rather than politely ask me to leave, he tried to flatten me.”

  “You could have been killed.”

  “Not likely.”

  He played down the incident rather than giving her more reason to worry. Nate’s descent into the chute had actually sent the bull into a rage. It was a minor miracle he’d escaped unscathed.

  Then again, if he embellished the story, there was a chance Ronnie would fly into his arms again.

  Spence came over, thwarting Nate’s plan. “He’s one lucky guy.”

  “Me or the bull?” Nate chuckled, though it sounded a bit thin to his ears.

  “Stop doing that.” Ronnie sighed with exasperation. “You don’t have to put yourself in danger anymore. You quit rodeoing, remember?”

  “Believe me, cozying up with Mad Max wasn’t in my plans. It just happened.”

  “Come on, Truett,” urged the cowboy who’d drawn the number one spot. “Let’s get this show on the road.”

  “Be right there.” If the man was raring to ride Mad Max after witnessing what had happened, who was Nate to stop him? “Gimme a second.” To Ronnie he said, “I have to go.”

  “Okay. But be careful.” She laid a hand on his chest. “Promise me.”

  “You should be saying that to these guys, not me.”

  “I mean it, Nate.”

  Oh, what the hell? Wrapping an arm around her waist, he brought his mouth close to hers. “Here I thought you were immune to my charms.”

  “I am.” She reached up and cradled his cheeks before brushing her lips across his.

  The effect was immediate as emotions he’d kept buried for so long pushed to the surface. He tamped them down with the last of his willpower.

  “You always were a terrible liar, sweetheart.” If they weren’t surrounded, he’d show her just how crazy she was making him. “Wait for me when this is over.”

  Suddenly coy, she answered, “I may be here. I may not.”

  “Wherever you are, I’ll find you. Count on it.”

  She left then, at a considerably slower pace than when she’d arrived. Nate should have been gearing up for the start of the bull riding. Instead, he stood there unable to move until Ronnie was swallowed by the crowd.

  Spence returned to stand beside him. “You two back together?”

  “Nope.”

  “Could’ve fooled me.”

  “Old habits.”

  “Yeah, I hear you. Did I tell you yet about me and Frankie and when I came back to town? She was an old habit I couldn’t break. Women are funny that way.”

  Slowly, reason returned to Nate’s mashed-potato brain. As much as he wanted to hunt Ronnie down later and pick up where they’d left off, a better course of action would be continuing their discussion from the other day. Not a single piece of the baggage the two of them carried had been unpacked and put away. Getting involved before that occurred was unwise if not downright stupid.

  Nate made his way to the bucking chutes where he oversaw the night’s competition. The thirty-one brave souls were quickly trimmed down to eleven after the first round, then down to six for the final round. Two hours of rip-roaring fun and edge-of-the-seat excitement concluded with the top three competitors receiving their respective shares of the pot and a round of wild applause from the audience.

  At the end of the event, Bess’s voice blared from the speakers, inviting everyone to return the next afternoon for the barrel racing at two and bull riding at seven sharp. She also announced well drinks and draft beer were half price until ten.

  Many people stayed, and the celebrating continued inside the Poco Dinero, as was Bess’s intention. Nate helped the hands from the Lost Dutchman Livestock Company settle the bulls for the night in the holding pens, giving them fresh feed and water.

  Eventually, after what felt like an eternity, Nate was done for the evening. The facility was back in order, the arena graded for tomorrow, equipment stowed and padlocks double-checked. Bess brought out free longnecks for Nate and his crew. They didn’t refuse, not after the hard night’s work.

  “Thank you, ma’am,” Nate said, accepting the beer she held out to him and indulging in a healthy swig. He then wiped his damp forehead with the back of his other hand. “That hits the spot.”

  “Thought you’d like to know.” She took his arm and pulled him aside. “We did okay tonight. Took in enough entry fees to cover the livestock rental and the prize money.”

  “That’s good.”

  She gave a rusty cackle. “Good enough for a first night. I’m hoping to do better next weekend.”

  Nate wasn’t sure what to make of that remark. How many entry fees were needed to turn a profit? “Should I change strategies?”r />
  “You just keep doing what you’re doing.” She patted him fondly on the arm. “The money will come.”

  He almost asked her if Ronnie was inside or if she’d left, but changed his mind. Spence and several of the other guys were already ribbing him. He didn’t need his boss concerned about the potentially negative consequences of her employees fraternizing.

  “Has Theo left yet?” Nate asked instead.

  “Enrico took him home. Did you see his nephew? Well, of course you did. Heck of a bull rider.”

  “Who’d have guessed he only competed a couple times in high school?”

  “Not me. He said you have the night off, by the way. Theo, not Enrico’s nephew.”

  That explained the cryptic text Nate had received earlier from Reese. “Good. Not that I’m complaining, but it’s been a long day.”

  “Go on inside. Have yourself a little fun before you head home. You’ve earned it.”

  “That’s an offer hard to refuse.”

  They went in together. Once through the door, Bess headed to the bar while Nate went in search of Ronnie. He found her, along with her dad and stepmom, just as they were putting on their coats and getting ready to leave.

  “Taking off already?” He flashed his winningest grin.

  “Us old folks retire early,” Dolores answered and linked arms with her husband. “Even on a Friday night.”

  “Heck of show.” Ray shook Nate’s hand. “Good job, son.”

  “Are you coming back tomorrow?”

  “In the afternoon. For the barrel racing. You going to be here?”

  Nate had told Ronnie he’d stay away rather than cause her any discomfort. That was before she’d come flying down from the stands and they’d shared a brief, electrifying kiss.

  Catching her glance, he attempted to read her expression. She didn’t appear uncomfortable or dismayed by her dad’s question.

  “I might.” He lifted a shoulder in an unconcerned shrug. “Probably.”

  Ronnie further surprised him by saying, “Come. I could use you in the cheering section. I’m worried no one will show.”

  “Won’t happen. People will be here in droves.” He resisted reaching out to reassure her. “By the way, drum up any new business tonight?”

  “One contact. An acquaintance of the Carringtons.”

  “She a barrel racer?”

  “No, a recreational rider. Purchased one of the mustangs at the last adoption event and apparently he spooks easily. She wants someone with experience to train him.”

  “You’re expanding your business. Congratulations.”

  “I’m not sure I’m qualified. Recreational riding is different from barrel racing.”

  “You’ll do great.”

  “We’ll see.” Ronnie zipped up her hoodie. “See you tomorrow.”

  “Stay,” Dolores told Ronnie, a glint of mischief in her eyes. “You can talk horses.”

  “You’re my ride home.”

  The glint in Dolores’s eyes brightened. “I’m sure Nate will drive you.”

  “Happy to,” he agreed, deciding he liked Ronnie’s new stepmom.

  Ronnie gnawed on her lower lip. “I’m not sure...”

  “Come on, honey.” Dolores nudged Ray. “It’s late, and I’m tired.”

  Ronnie could have gone after her dad and stepmom, but she didn’t, leaving Nate to wonder...and hope.

  “Since we’re here and the music’s playing,” he said, “would you like to dance?”

  She shook her head. “That’ll only get us in trouble.”

  He grinned. “Trouble can be fun.”

  “Trouble can also be trouble. And besides, I see a couple of people I need to talk to.”

  He let her go, confident she’d soon be sitting beside him in his truck. Considering that the last time they’d ridden together they’d kissed, she was no safer with him there than the Poco Dinero dance floor.

  Chapter Nine

  “You don’t have to walk me to the door.”

  “Too late.” Nate climbed out of his truck and met her on the passenger side.

  He wasn’t ready for the night to end. Could be he was keyed up from the bull riding event and his close call with Mad Max in the bucking chute. Having Ronnie sitting next to him the entire drive home, reliving the sensation of her locked in his arms and the sweet taste of her lips, was a more likely reason.

  “Nice digs,” he commented, pulling into the driveway. She pressed the button on her key ring that remotely opened the garage door and activated an overhead light.

  “How long have you been a member of the homeowner’s club?”

  “Actually, I’m just renting. Though, I can see myself owning a house like this one day.”

  “You live alone?”

  She shot him a perturbed look.

  “Hey, I was curious. Rent can’t be cheap.”

  “Mel was living with me until recently. Which is why I agreed to help Bess with the barrel racing. I find myself in need of a second revenue stream.”

  They went into the garage, passing stacks of storage boxes, Christmas decorations, a worktable, an old bicycle and the usual assortment of items stored in a garage.

  “Looking for a new roommate?” he asked.

  That earned him another look, this one annoyed.

  “I wasn’t volunteering.” He had, however, been trying to get a rise out of her just for fun.

  At the door, she inserted her key. “Thanks for the lift, Nate.”

  When she turned to face him, he pulled her into a snug embrace. “Now, where were we?”

  She rested her hands on his shoulders, not quite pushing him away but sending a message. “This isn’t a good idea.”

  “No? I’ve had worse ones.”

  “We agreed to avoid this exact thing.”

  He walked her back a step until she was wedged between him and the door. Already, he could feel his body responding.

  “That was before you came racing down from the stands and bowled over a dozen innocent people to see if I was hurt.”

  “I didn’t bowl anyone over. Granted, I hurried.”

  “Tell that to those innocent people nursing bruises.”

  “You’re incorrigible.”

  He grinned. “But am I impossible to resist?”

  “Fine.” She huffed. “One kiss.” Before he could devour her, she withdrew and narrowed her gaze at him. “A chaste one.”

  Like hell. He had Ronnie in his arms, right where he wanted her. For a moment, just one, he intended to forget about all the obstacles they faced and the ones in the past responsible for ending their relationship. He wanted to be the people they once were, young and head over heels in love.

  “Sorry.” Removing his cowboy hat, he set it on top of a nearby storage cabinet. “No can do.”

  Her eyes widened. “Nate.”

  He also removed her cowboy hat and placed it next his. “Be warned, sweetheart. This is going to be good. I hope you’re ready.”

  “Wait.”

  Groaning with frustration, he said, “First, I can’t get you to talk to me. Now, I can’t get you to stop.”

  “We need to be clear on a few things first. Just because I’m letting you kiss me doesn’t mean we’re—”

  He was through listening and silenced her the best way he knew how. Planting his mouth firmly on hers, he took advantage of her parted lips. She resisted again, sending his frustration through the roof. Did she need to initiate every kiss in order to be a willing participant?

  Increasing the pressure, he coaxed rather than demanded a response from her. Encouraged instead of insisted. Finally, she ceased resisting and arched into him.

  This, he thought with pleasure, is more like it. Her ardor rose to match his—hot and hungry, the way he remembered. The way h
e’d been dreaming of every day since his return. Desire so intense it invaded his every cell. Need so demanding it consumed him.

  When they finally broke apart, he was the one weak in the knees and out of breath. Holding on and waiting for his strength to return, he murmured her name against her cheek.

  Like him, she needed a moment to recover. When she finally spoke, her voice was unsteady. “That was, ah...”

  She was at a loss, unable to continue, which was how he most liked seeing her. Vulnerable. With her guard down and her heart laid bare. This was the Ronnie who could be easily hurt. It was also the Ronnie he could reach. Affect. Ronnie at her most honest.

  “It was fantastic,” he said.

  A tiny smile tugged at her lips. “We did get some things right, you and I.”

  Yeah, and kissing was one of them. “Invite me inside.”

  “Whoa there, cowboy.” Her guard instantly shot up.

  “What are those ground rules you mentioned earlier? Let’s review them.”

  She straightened and squeezed her eyes shut. “You’re impossible.”

  “Invite me in, Ronnie. We can talk or not talk. It’s entirely up to you. I don’t want to go back to my cold, cramped trailer. I want to sit with you on a couch with my feet up and my arm around you. Notice I said sit on a couch and not lie in a bed.”

  She stared at the floor for a long moment before lifting her gaze to his. “I’m probably going to regret this.”

  “Yes!” He grabbed her hand, pushed open the door and pulled her inside the house before she had a chance to change her mind.

  From the laundry room they entered a short hall that opened into a kitchen. While half the size of the McGraws’, the room was cozy and the decor inviting.

  Nate had no interest. He wasn’t here to cook.

  “Where’s the living room?” he asked, stripping off his jacket and tossing it over the back of a chair.