Tanner (American Extreme Bull Riders Tour Book 1)

by Sarah Mayberry

  Tonight, Tanner was planning on having a hard, clean ride. He was going to stick, and he was going to get off the bull’s back without banging himself around any more than necessary.

  That was the plan, anyway. That was always the plan, but Bandito no doubt had plans of his own. Just thinking about matching skill and instinct with the big beast made Tanner’s arms and legs tingle with anticipation. He slipped his hand into his pocket to touch the lucky medallion he always carried, then frowned when his fingers met nothing but the warm cotton of an empty pocket.

  He checked his other pocket. Then he remembered he’d been rolling the medallion across his fingers while the trainer taped his shoulder. He must have mislaid it then.

  He wasn’t going to ride without his good luck charm, so he stood and headed for the door. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw one of the stall doors was shut in the washroom now—what passed for privacy for Troy, apparently.

  He’d gotten to know the younger man a little this tour. The two of them had been sharing the driving where possible, and they’d swapped a story or two. Tanner liked the guy. Troy paid his own way, rode hard, didn’t talk too much when he won or brood when he didn’t qualify. All of which made him okay in Tanner’s book.

  In past seasons, Tanner had been stuck driving with guys who didn’t know when to shut their traps, guys who big-noted themselves, guys who sulked, guys who did everything they could to get out of paying their fair share of expenses. So he appreciated Troy’s good qualities, and considered the Australian a friend. Or, as Troy kept saying, a mate.

  Tanner copped some crap for being superstitious when he returned to search for his lucky charm but the trainers handed his medallion over and he slipped it safely back into his right pocket, the same place it sat every ride.

  “When you guys get up on one of those bulls, come talk to me about superstition,” he told them on his way out the door.

  “What you talking about, Tanner? None of us are as loco as you bunch of Looney Tunes,” one of the trainers called after him.

  Tanner was smiling to himself as he headed back to the change rooms. Most guys wouldn’t even make it into the chutes, let alone onto the back of a bull. It took a special combination of hard-ass stubbornness, bravado and blind belief in your own immortality to climb onto the back of an animal that wanted nothing more in all the world than to buck you off then stomp your body into the dirt.

  “Mr. Harding. You seen Troy Jensen around?” a voice asked from behind him.

  He turned to find one of the security guards walking toward him, a slim blonde woman in tow. She was wheeling a suitcase, with an overnight bag hitched over her shoulder, the bulkiness of the bag emphasizing her small stature.

  “He’s in the change room,” Tanner said.

  “This here is his girlfriend, all the way from Australia. Reckon you could take her through to meet him for me? I gotta get back to my station.”

  Girlfriend? The very notion that Troy Never-Saw-A-Buckle-Bunny-He-Didn’t-Like Jensen had a girlfriend was laughable, but before Tanner could set the security guard straight, the guy was gone, walk-running back up the corridor, clearly on fire to get back to his post.

  The blonde smiled at him, her face open and sunny. “Hi. I’m Evie Forrester.” Her accent was like Troy’s, an easy drawl with flat vowels. “You’re Tanner Harding, right? Troy mentioned you in one of his emails. You’re driving together this season.”

  She held her hand out for him to shake, which was when his memory chose to kick into gear. Once, during a long drive, Troy had mentioned a girl back home. She was the daughter of the guy who’d saved Troy’s ass back in the day, if Tanner was remembering correctly.

  “Nice to meet you, Ms. Forrester,” he said, even though it wasn’t.

  It was damned awkward, was what it was.

  Her hand was small and surprisingly strong in his. She had a heart-shaped face and a small, neat little nose and chin. Her eyes were blue, her skin lightly tanned.

  A lot of guys would probably dismiss her as being simply girl-next-door-cute and sweet, but there was a hint of something more in the glint in her eye and the fullness of her mouth.

  “So, is Troy in there?” She pointed to the entrance to the change rooms, a dozen or so feet down the corridor. “Would it be okay for me to just go in or am I going to violate the privacy of a bunch of cowboys? Because I’d really like to surprise him if I can.”

  A single dimple appeared in her left cheek as she smiled at him, doing her best to charm him into helping her out.

  It had been a long time since Tanner had felt this uncomfortable, and the urge to rub the back of his neck like a caught-out kid was strong. Thing was, he wasn’t the one who’d been caught out here. Troy was the one who was in the shit—and this woman was the one who was going to wear the collateral damage.

  “Might be best if I go get him for you,” he said slowly. “For everybody’s peace of mind.”

  She laughed, the sound light and easy. He was starting to feel bad for her, because even though he’d only known her for a few minutes, he could tell she was a sunny-natured, trusting type of person, one of those people who ran at life with open arms—and Troy was right this second in a bathroom stall with an over-endowed buckle bunny, doing what he’d done at virtually every stop along the tour.

  “How about this for a compromise? You go ahead, let me know if everyone’s decent, and then I can still surprise him?” she said.

  “Yeah, you don’t want to do that,” Tanner said, adjusting the brim of his Stetson. “Definitely best if I bring him out to you.”

  She was about to respond when her gaze slipped over his shoulder, focusing on something behind him. He sent up a prayer that it wasn’t who he thought it was and glanced over his shoulder.

  Shit.

  Troy and his buckle bunny had stepped into the corridor to say their goodbyes. Troy’s tongue was halfway down the other woman’s throat, his index fingers hooked into the belt loops of her jeans as he held her close. The other woman had a shapely leg wrapped around Troy’s hips, her bright pink nails digging into his shoulders.

  Evie Forrester inhaled sharply, like she’d been hit unexpectedly. He brought his gaze back to her face, waiting for her to explode with tears or recriminations and accusations, the way plenty of women would. Instead, she took a small sideways step toward the wall, using Tanner’s body as a shield. Instinctively taking cover, in case Troy happened to look up.

  “Cowboy, you sure do know how to show a girl a good time,” the buckle bunny said, her voice low and satisfied.

  “Same goes, Princess,” Troy replied.

  Tanner watched as Evie Forrester’s eyes closed briefly, each word a further blow. She ducked her head, trying to hide her expression from him, and some of the stiffness seemed to leave her shoulders.

  She looked like a kicked puppy, and Tanner couldn’t help but feel for her.

  “Just…stay still,” he murmured, stepping a little closer to ensure she was concealed and reaching out to rest a hand on her shoulder, the way he would with a skittish horse. He could feel how worked up she was, her body vibrating with suppressed emotion beneath his hand.

  “Well, see you ’round, sexy. You’re gonna win tonight, you wait and see,” the buckle bunny said.

  There was a small silence, then the sound of high-heeled boots heading the other way up the corridor. Tanner waited a full five seconds before glancing over his shoulder again. Sure enough, Troy was nowhere to be seen.

  “Okay. He’s gone,” he reported.

  Evie drew in a shaky breath. Then her head came up and he could tell she was forcing herself to meet his gaze.

  “Thank you for doing that. I…I appreciate it.”

  She swallowed, and for a moment her blue eyes became even bluer as they flooded with tears. Then she blinked and gave her head the tiniest of shakes, clearly determined not to break down in front of him.

  “You want me to go get Troy still?” he asked, mostly because he cou
ldn’t think of anything else to say.

  “No. There doesn’t seem to be much point, does there?” she said. She tried for a dry little smile, but her mouth flattened into a straight line too quickly for it to be convincing.

  He glanced at her luggage. “Can I call you a cab? You got anyone else you can go to?”

  “No. Thank you. I can sort myself out. But thank you for the offer.” She reached out and curled her hand around the pullout handle on her suitcase. “I don’t want to put you in a difficult situation, but would you mind not mentioning I was here to Troy?”

  “He won’t hear it from me, Ms. Forrester,” he assured her.

  It felt like the least he could do for her.

  “Thanks. Um. I guess I should go.” She gave him a parting nod, then turned and started up the corridor, her suitcase rumbling after her.

  He could tell without seeing her face that she was doing her damnedest not to cry again.

  He cursed under his breath. He had no idea what the true state of affairs was between Troy and this woman, but she was obviously invested in him in a big way. Tanner had been to Australia once to contest the bull rider circuit down there, and he knew it was a long, long way to haul ass only to come face to face with betrayal and disappointment.

  She rounded the corner, her spine very straight, and he turned back toward the change rooms. Troy was lounging on one of the benches when he entered, shooting the shit with some of the guys. He looked relaxed and pretty happy with himself, his legs crossed at the ankles as he leaned against the wall.

  Tanner couldn’t help wondering if the other man would give a damn if he knew his sweet-faced girlfriend was probably outside the stadium right now, crying her eyes out, trying to work out what to do and where to go in a strange city.

  Maybe, maybe not. It was hard to tell with Troy sometimes. Then Tanner reminded himself it wasn’t his problem, and that Troy’s private life was his to screw up in whatever way he chose.

  Evie Forrester was not his responsibility, not by a long shot, and the only thing Tanner needed to worry about was qualifying on Bandito tonight so he could take out the event and keep paving his way toward a second world title win.

  That was what he was here for, and that was what he would focus on.

  Chapter Two

  She was such an idiot. So, so dumb.

  Who flew halfway around the world without knowing they were wanted? What kind of an air-headed, naive idiot did that?

  Evie pushed the coffee cup in front of her away, making cold coffee slosh toward the rim. She’d been sitting in this diner for several hours now, processing what had happened and what it meant.

  All the time she’d been waiting at home in Australia, dreaming of the moment she and Troy could be together again, Troy had been having a good time with women wearing high-heeled cowboy boots and teeny-tiny pairs of cut-off jeans.

  The realization still had the power to turn her stomach.

  Every time she closed her eyes she could see the other woman’s fingernails pressing into the dark cotton of Troy’s shirt. She could see her leg snaked around his hips, and the way they’d been locked together, groin to groin.

  Buckle bunnies, they were called. Women who considered it a stamp of honor to bag themselves a bull rider. Evie had never liked the term, but right now, she’d cheerfully scream it in the other woman’s face.

  How many other bunnies had there been since Troy left her at Christmas? There was no way of knowing aside from asking Troy himself, but Evie’s gut told her the answer was somewhere between “a lot” and “infinity plus one”. Because Troy had always been a bit of a player. Women had always liked him, and he’d never been backward in taking what was on offer.

  Meanwhile, she’d withdrawn most of her savings to make this dumbass impulsive trip because they were destined to be together and he’d finally seen her as she really was and their real life together was about to start.

  Her own ridiculous Pollyanna-ish naivety was enough to make her want to barf.

  The worst thing was her brother had warned her. She’d told him that she and Troy were together after Troy had flown back to the US, and Aaron’s face had gotten tight and disapproving. He’d told her he loved Troy like a brother, but the other man was a player, and Evie was buying trouble if she entered into a relationship with him. Evie had shut him down every time Aaron tried to bring up the subject after that, and she deliberately hadn’t told anyone in her family she was making this trip. She knew they’d been discussing her and Troy behind her back and she hadn’t wanted anyone to try to talk her out of this surprise visit.

  More fool her.

  The urge to cry hit her again, but she squeezed her eyes shut until it passed. She was pathetic enough, sitting here in a diner with her luggage, her broken heart on display for anyone and everyone to see. She wasn’t going to add crying into her cold coffee to the list.

  Come on, Forrester. You need to get it together.

  She wanted to shrug off the voice and keep wallowing in her shock and pain, but she knew it was right. She couldn’t sit here in the corner booth all night. The waitresses had been kind enough to mostly leave her alone, but at some point they were going to want her to move on so real customers could sit here.

  Plus it was dark outside, and she needed to find someplace to sleep. It had been more than thirty hours since she’d been horizontal in a real bed, and she was starting to feel punch-drunk from fatigue.

  She drew a hand over her face, pressing her fingers against her closed eyes for a brief moment. Then she sat up straighter and pulled out her phone. A quick search told her there was a budget motel one block away.

  Okay, fine. That would do. She’d get a room, shower, force herself to eat something, then get some sleep. Tomorrow, she’d decide what to do about getting home, which was bound to present a whole new raft of challenges since she’d bought a super-saver ticket that didn’t allow for any changes without basically charging her for the whole flight all over again.

  Awesome. Something else to look forward to.

  She pulled out her wallet and smiled at the passing waitress.

  “Excuse me, can you tell me how much I owe you?” she asked.

  The older woman shook her peroxide-blonde head. “No charge. Not for you, sugar. You going to be okay?”

  Wow. She must look really bad if a complete stranger was worried enough about her welfare to give her free coffee.

  “I’m fine, thank you. And thank you for the coffee.”

  “You look after yourself, you hear me?” the waitress said.

  “I will. Thank you,” Evie said again.

  Blanche DuBois might not have minded relying on the kindness of strangers, but it threatened to release the torrent of tears banked up inside Evie. Before that could happen, she wrangled her luggage and headed for the door. It was colder out now, spring only having just started to assert itself here in Oklahoma, but she couldn’t be bothered trying to find her coat in her suitcase. Instead, she called up the motel address on her phone and plugged it into a map app, then started following the directions.

  Cars drove past on the wrong side of the road—for her, anyway—their headlights occasionally blinding her. Her case got stuck in a pothole in the sidewalk, jerking her to a halt, and she had to use all her body weight to pull it free. Finally, she saw the sign for the motel up ahead.

  Her heart sank as she drew closer. If there was a line between “budget” and “sleazy dive,” this place straddled it, with a foot firmly in both camps. But she was not in a position to be picky. Her ticket home had her flying out of Santa Fe, because that was where Troy was supposed to be riding in two weeks’ time. Depending on how kind the airline was when she spoke to them tomorrow—and she wasn’t holding her breath on that one—there was a real chance she’d need what was left of her savings for a bus to New Mexico and accommodation for the next two weeks.

  A fresh wave of self-disgust rolled over her. She was so much smarter than this. She’d aced e
very year of her Vet Science degree so far. She’d had her pick of internships when she’d sought a placement over summer. And yet when it came to Troy, she was like a five-year-old who still believed in the Tooth Fairy and Santa Claus.

  The door to reception was stiff and she had to push her shoulder into it to get it to swing open. A balding, middle-aged man looked up as she wheeled her case over the threshold. Evie managed to muster a polite smile from somewhere.

  “Hello. I’m looking for a room for the night,” she said.

  “Pretty busy, with the bull riders in town and all,” he said.

  She grit her teeth when she felt her chin start to wobble.

  Not here. You are not crying here.

  “You don’t have anything?” she asked.

  “Now, I didn’t say that. You’re lucky, we got one room left.”

  Thank God.

  “I’ll take it,” she said, already reaching for her wallet.

  Five minutes later, she left reception and towed her suitcase across the parking lot to the block of rooms facing the freeway. The clerk had apologized for the road noise, but she didn’t care. She just wanted to have a door between her and the world so she could curl up in a ball and feel sorry for herself for a while.

  She found her room, and fumbled with the key. She slid it into the lock, but before she’d had a chance to turn it, the door swung open. She frowned, then shrugged and went inside.

  She didn’t think it was possible, but her heart sank even more as she took in her accommodation for the night. The pale brown carpet was threadbare and gray where years of guests had walked between the door and the bathroom. The bed looked uneven, as though maybe a leg was missing on one side. The curtain was minus a few hooks, the leading edge hanging uselessly. The walls were grubby with scuff marks, and there was a dark, ominous-looking patch on the ceiling in the corner.