Austin (American Extreme Bull Riders Tour Book 7)

by Jeannie Watt

  “Where are you?”

  “Salt Lake City.”

  “You’ll be home tomorrow?”

  “No…I’ll be home on Sunday.”

  “Sunday?”

  “I’m staying with Austin Harding. He’ll drive me to Marietta after his event.”

  “You mean his bull-riding event?”

  “Exactly.”

  There was a long silence on the other end of the phone, then Whitney said in a cautious voice, “Who are you and what have you done with my sister?”

  “Your sister,” Kristen said in a patient voice, “is trying to get her act together.”

  “By sleeping with a bull rider? I mean Austin is hot and all, but this seems very out of character for you. Besides that…since when do you two get along?”

  “I’m not sleeping with him.” Yet. She had a feeling it was coming, but she wanted things to unfold naturally.

  There was a long silence, during which Kristen rolled her eyes to the ceiling, studied the textured panels there. “I’m very confused,” Whitney finally said. “Maybe you should start at the beginning?”

  “That’s a long story,” Kristen said on a sigh.

  “And I have lots of time.”

  “Aren’t you on shift?”

  “Schedule change. I’m at home with not a lot to do. Therefore, I think you should spill your guts.”

  Kristen arranged a pillow behind her head and spilled. It took some time to answer all of Whitney’s questions, and assure her sister that she hadn’t gone off the deep end. Surely everyone deserved an escape from brutal reality—unemployment, unconfessed sins?

  After Whitney’s cross-examination ended, she fell silent. To the point that Kristen said her name, fearing that the call had been dropped.

  “I’m here. Just digesting everything.”

  “What’s the verdict?” Kristen wasn’t so much looking for approval as understanding.

  “Don’t go super crazy.”

  “I can go a little crazy?” It was supposed to be a joke, but it didn’t feel like a joke. And Whitney didn’t take it that way.

  She drew in an audible breath and then said, “Consider consequences, but don’t let fear rule your life.”

  Kristen closed her eyes as her twin’s words sank in. “Do you think I’ve let fear rule my life?”

  “Totally.”

  She didn’t say anything, because it was so very true. She was a freaking coward, judging her self-worth by the reactions of others.

  “There’s a middle ground, Kris. Find it.”

  “I might need some help.”

  “When you get home, I’ll give you lessons on flaunting authority and not caring about what other people think.”

  Kristen gave a soft laugh, feeling better now that she was once again connected with her sister. It’d been stupid to keep her in the dark about her job, but that damned pride thing.

  And the fear thing.

  “Any more advice?” Kristen asked.

  “Practice safe sex?”

  Kristen’s body went warm. “Sex isn’t on the agenda.” And if it was, she wasn’t going to share with her sister. She felt possessive about this time away from her real life. Any decisions she made were her own, as were any consequences.

  Whitney gave a soft laugh. “You might want to rethink that.”

  *

  Kristen was in bed with the lights turned out on her side of the room when Austin got back to the hotel room after working out and then grabbing a quick bite with Kane, who’d also shown up early. He had a suspicion his roomie was still awake, but she didn’t say a word, so he returned the favor.

  He’d showered at the gym, so it was a matter of shucking out of his jeans and rolling into bed once the lights were out. Not that he was going to sleep yet. He pulled out his phone, plugged in the headphones and started pulling up videos of both his past rides and the bull he’d be paired with at the upcoming event. His body creaked a little as he shifted positions periodically and he wondered about taking another dose of anti-inflammatory pills, then decided to muscle through. He’d barely put his phone aside when Kristen spoke, her voice drifting through the darkness.

  “Tell me about bull riding.”

  The question surprised him, coming out of nowhere as it did. “What about it?”

  “Anything.”

  He put a hand behind his head, the movement making him aware of his sore shoulder. “I get on. Hope the bull doesn’t throw anything my way that I can’t counter.” He wasn’t sure how much she wanted to hear. She wasn’t like the buckle bunnies, who wanted to hear anything he said in order to carve another notch in their figurative bedpost.

  “Why bulls? Why not become a calf roper? Or a bronc rider?”

  “Maybe because Ty is a bronc rider and he’s damned good at it, and someone accused me of being a loser, so I decided to become the best at something.”

  Kristen didn’t answer immediately and when she did, she sounded suspicious. “Really?”

  “Let’s say that moment caused me to think about things differently. I was never a loser. I had a plan. It just didn’t involve school. But after you, I took that plan a whole lot more seriously.”

  “So you owe me.”

  He gave a low laugh. “I would have been a champion regardless.”

  “You’re certain?”

  “Champions run in the family.” Which was true, although his dad had given up his promising rodeo career to farm and the decision had made him a bitter man after he lost the land he’d sacrificed for—which was why he lived through his two sons. He was proud as hell of Ty, who was the subject of a documentary, and prouder still of Austin, who was still out on the road, keeping the family name squarely in the limelight.

  Heaven help him when he was no longer doing that. A bull rider didn’t have a long career, and what was his dad going to do when both of his sons retired?

  Austin never let those thoughts hang for too long. As it was, his dad could be a royal pain while in his stage-father persona. If he didn’t have his sons to brag about and try to micromanage from a distance…again, Austin didn’t want to think about it.

  “You make a lot of money at this?”

  “I have this season.”

  “And you risk death while you do it.”

  It was a fact all bull riders lived with.

  “Do you really consider this a serious career?”

  “I do. The most serious you can imagine.”

  “But you have no plans afterward.”

  They’d covered this territory. He wasn’t in the mood to cover it again. But he did like talking to Kris, and maybe it was best that they end on a good note. “My plans right now involve sleeping so that I’m at the top of my game.”

  “I understand.” He heard the sheets rustle as she rolled over in bed, and he found himself wishing that he was in the bed with her. Just to spoon her up against him, if nothing else.

  Spooning wouldn’t be enough.

  But it would be a start…

  “Good night, Kristen.”

  There was a wistful note to her voice, almost enough to make him cross the distance to her bed, when she said, “Good night, Austin.”

  *

  The next morning, he woke up with morning wood straining against his boxers. Kristen’s bed was empty, and the shower was running. He closed his eyes, idly rubbing his hand over the length of his hard-on through his underwear. It would be advisable to not have a hard-on when he got out of bed—either that or to get out of bed when Kristen wasn’t around—but envisioning naked Kristen on the other side of the wall, water cascading over her body, wasn’t doing him a lot of good.

  In fact, it was doing him no good.

  He grabbed for the remote, turned on the news and laced his hands behind his head. Couldn’t focus.

  Get it together, man.

  He had a sense of honor, after all. He’d asked Kristen to share a room, not a bed, and he wasn’t going to push things by walking around with an erec
tion.

  He focused mightily on the television after the shower stopped. Government budget. Yes. Oh, a bridge had some rusty welds. Imagine that. A man with a rat riding on his head was seen multiple times on the streets of Salt Lake City. Interesting.

  The door opened and steam rolled out. The hair dryer came on.

  Austin started to relax. He figured from past experience that the dryer could go on for a long time, especially with long hair like Kristen’s, so he took a chance and pushed back the covers—just as Kristen stepped out of the bathroom, hair dryer still in hand, looking as if she was going to ask him a question.

  Whatever she’d been about to say died on her lips as she caught sight of full-blown him.

  “Oh.”

  Austin yanked the sheet over his tented boxers. “Sorry. I was going for my jeans.”

  She gave a quick nod and retreated into the bathroom, leaving Austin feeling very much the fool. He reached for his jeans, dragged them up his legs.

  “I’ll give more warning next time,” Kristen called from the bathroom over the noise of the dryer.

  “I thought you were used to naked men.” Austin rolled his eyes as soon as he finished speaking. There were better face-saving remarks, but he couldn’t come up with one. And technically he hadn’t been naked.

  “Flaccid ones.”

  The matter-of-fact remark had his eyebrows shooting up. Okay.

  The dryer shut off and he heard it clatter onto the counter. “I’m coming out.”

  “All clear,” Austin said dryly.

  She peeked around the corner, then stepped out into full view, wearing a satiny robe that clung to her curves. He glanced down at his bare chest and then reached for his shirt on the chair near his bed. “I’ll work harder at this nudity thing.” Although her robe wasn’t doing that great of a job of hiding her assets.

  “I don’t mind bare chests.”

  “I see.” He pulled the shirt on, but stopped short of snapping it. Kristen not only didn’t mind bare chests—she seemed to be somewhat fascinated with his.

  “You have a lot of scars.”

  “Part of the game.”

  She shook her head and went to the closet to pull clothing out of a drawer. She’d unpacked, just as she said she was going to. And then she was going to have to pack again. Austin had a great method for avoiding both of those steps, but apparently Kristen wasn’t the yank-it-out-of-the-suitcase and cram it back in kind of person.

  No big surprise there.

  “I’m going to dress around the corner. The bathroom is too damp.”

  “How about I go into the bathroom and you can dress where it’s dry.”

  She gave a jerky nod, his first indication that she was feeling self-conscious. “Great idea. Thank you.”

  He grabbed his toiletry kit off the bureau on the way to the john. “I’ll give a yell before I come out.”

  She clutched the clothing she held to her chest. “Thank you.”

  Austin then closed the door, trapping himself in a room filled with feminine smells—hair products, body spray. Kristen’s makeup bag lay open on the counter and he peeked inside as he unzipped his jeans.

  High-end stuff, judging from the containers. She was a high-end kind of woman.

  Who was no stranger to calf brandings and ranch work.

  You’re not going to figure her out. You don’t need to figure her out.

  He didn’t. Any more than she needed to figure him out—although he was pretty much an open book. Bull rider. Drifter. Lover of a good time.

  Now he was a bull rider who’d given her something of a gift—a few days in which she didn’t really need to worry about anything—except for catching her roommate in a state of arousal.

  When he came out of the bathroom, Kristen was sitting on her bed, which was neatly made. Austin cocked an eyebrow.

  “I wanted to sit on it.”

  “All right…” It made no sense to him. He sat in the chair near the window and pulled on first his socks and then his new Tony Lama boots. Loved his boots. Custom-made and comfy. When he finished pulling the second boot on, he looked up to see Kristen studying him as if debating options.

  He got to his feet, gathered his change and his watch, stuffed his wallet into his pocket, then grabbed his gym bag. “I’m heading to the gym, then I have a meeting.”

  “I thought I might take in the sights for an hour or two.”

  All very polite and businesslike, as if he hadn’t waved an erection at her earlier that morning. He gestured to the door. “I’ll buy you a coffee?”

  “Sure.” She gathered her purse, pulled her sweater off the back of a chair and then followed him out of the room and down the hall to the elevators, all of which seemed to be permanently stuck on lower floors.

  Austin rocked back on his heels as they waited. “Interesting morning.”

  Kristen let out a tiny huff of breath, which he took as an acknowledgment. He gave her a sideways look. “Still okay with our arrangement?”

  Her lips parted as she gave him a speculative look. “I am. I went into this to ease out of my comfort zone, and I’d say this morning was a start.”

  “Good start or bad?”

  “Still working on that one.”

  He smiled a little as the elevator doors finally opened. They stepped inside and the doors closed, then the elevator started up instead of heading down. Two floors up the doors slid open and held.

  “Maybe we should change elevators,” Austin said.

  “Yes.” But she didn’t move. Instead, she pressed her lips together in a thoughtful way, then gave him a look. “I want to tell you something. Explain something.”

  “Yeah?”

  “When we were in high school and that…thing between us happened…one reason I was so upset was because I had a big crush on you.”

  Austin blinked at her as the elevator doors closed and the car started a slow downward journey. “No fucking way.”

  “Yeah.” She glanced at the parquet floor. “Then you called me an ice princess and made bets about me…it hurt.”

  His chest squeezed. “Ice princess was kind of a compliment.” She gave him a disbelieving look. “Ice troll would have been a slam.”

  She fought a smile. “Thank you for clarifying.”

  He smiled back. “Thank you for confessing. It kind of helps me understand the fury of your attack.”

  “You started it,” she pointed out. “And then you came looking for an explanation.”

  “Yeah. I did.” The elevator lurched to a stop. The doors remained stubbornly closed. He didn’t care. “I owe you another apology.”

  “I don’t need—” Her words died on her lips as he leaned down to touch his mouth to hers, apologizing in the best way he knew how—a way that might convince her that all of her self-doubts were meaningless where he was concerned. The softness of her lips almost did him in, but he kept himself in check, sliding one hand along her smooth cheek to hold her face steady as he deepened the kiss, keeping his touch on her face light, instead of backing her against the elevator wall as his instincts were urging him to do. Just as Kristen started returning his kiss like she meant it, her tongue finally meeting his, stroking, making him go hard again, the elevator began moving.

  “I can’t decide if I like this thing or hate it,” he murmured, letting his hand drop slowly away from her face, before turning to face the front of the car.

  “Nice apology,” Kristen murmured.

  “Best I could do.” The doors slid open, revealing a small crowd waiting on the ground floor.

  “This elevator isn’t working right,” he told the people waiting to get on. They ignored his warning and piled on board. But he had to admit to thinking more about Kristen than possessed elevators. He waited until they’d gotten their coffee and were seated at a small table near the edge of the lobby before saying, “Tell me about this crush.”

  “To stroke your ego?”

  “My ego is big enough, thank you. Why didn’t I
know? I mean…I tried to talk to you.”

  Kristen lifted her cup to her lips. “Scared. To. Death.”

  “Of what? I sent out signals. I thought I did anyway.”

  “Misreading. Rejection…and…” she glanced down “…the fact that you were going nowhere.”

  His eyebrows rose and she gave a self-conscious shrug. “I had plans. You didn’t. At that time, I thought that every relationship had to be serious. That futures had to mesh. Things like that.”

  “What do you think about relationships now?”

  “I guess I understand that there are different kinds. Futures don’t have to mesh.”

  “That pretty well describes us—non-meshing futures.”

  “Yeah.”

  “Which leaves the question of what kind of relationship do you want to have with me?” It was a question worth asking right off the bat, so there were no misconceptions.

  She held his gaze as she said, “The fun kind that leaves no scars.”

  “Have you ever had one of those?” She shook her head. “Neither have I. The thing is, Kris, you go past a certain point and every relationship stings a little.”

  “So you’re saying…”

  “Maybe I shouldn’t have kissed you in that elevator.”

  Chapter Eight

  Kristen stared at Austin for a long moment. She could still feel the pressure of his lips on hers, could still taste him. It’d shocked her when he’d leaned in and kissed her, but shock had quickly turned to desire, fueled in part by the hot, disturbing dream she’d had the night before. A dream she could have made a reality by simply crossing the space between their beds.

  Why hadn’t she crossed?

  Fear of rejection. Fear that they weren’t on the same page.

  Fear was a tough bitch to deal with, but then he’d kissed her, making her realize that her time with him was short, and that she wanted to do what other women did—to go after what she wanted in the personal realm instead of overthinking everything. The sense of freedom and empowerment she’d had since waking up with Austin in the Nevada desert had been growing—was still growing. She wasn’t exactly kicking butt and taking names, but she was able to look him square in the eye and say, “I have some social issues, but I can handle life. I can deal with a few bumps and bruises. A scar or two.”