Austin (American Extreme Bull Riders Tour Book 7)

by Jeannie Watt

  After breaking in on Sunday afternoon, she had a crazy patchwork schedule. An afternoon followed by an evening, followed by a lunch shift, followed by another evening. No rhyme or reason, because she was filling in here and there as needed, but she didn’t mind. It wasn’t as if she had anything else on her agenda, other than the continued job search and her prospective interview in Reno.

  Her cousins, Shane and Cody Marvell, had stopped by toward the end of her first shift and invited her to the ranch to help with the spring fencing repairs. She declined their kind offer, but enjoyed catching up with her rowdy cousins after she’d clocked out.

  “You’re into numbers, right?” Shane’s question jerked her back to the present. “Accounting and stuff like that?”

  “Yes.”

  Shane dropped an arm over the back of his chair in a casual gesture. “Can you help me with my taxes?”

  Kristen’s jaw dropped. “You know taxes are due on April 15th, right?”

  Her cousin gave her a charming smile. “I filed for an extension. I want to write off some of my rodeo expenses, but I don’t want to pay penalties later. A lady friend of mine barrel races, and she just got nailed. Wasn’t pretty.”

  “I’m not a tax person per se…but I’ll see what I can do.”

  “Maybe you could help me, too,” Cody said.

  “You haven’t filed either?”

  Cody sent his brother a look. “No. I’m thinking about starting a business in addition to the ranch. I need some advice.”

  Kristen propped a hand on her hip, narrowed her eyes. “You guys aren’t making up stuff to help your unemployed cousin, are you?” She wasn’t about to be the family charity.

  Cody and Shane shook their heads in unison.

  “Our ranch accountant is swamped,” Cody said. “We’ll pay whatever the going rate is.”

  “The family rate is free.”

  “Then we’ll find someone else,” Shane said easily.

  “You guys are awful.”

  “Yeah,” Cody said. “We are. And we’re paying you.”

  On Monday, Kristen learned the ropes of lunch service, which was almost as exhausting as a busy night at the Silver Bow. She’d just finished bussing a table, and was about to take a break when she noticed Whitney signaling her to the bar. She crossed the room with her loaded tray, then nearly dropped it when she spotted Austin half perched on a barstool. Her heart slammed against her ribs as she met his oh-so-blue eyes, then let her gaze slip down to his half-smiling gorgeous mouth.

  He looked…better than she remembered.

  How could that be, when he’d been pretty damned perfect in her head?

  “Hey,” she said with what she hoped looked like an easy smile. Her heart wasn’t supposed to start hammering like this. It simply was not.

  This was the moment when they kicked off their new relationship—their casually friendly relationship that was manageable and realistic. This was not the moment for her hormones to hopefully whisper, “May we have more, please?”

  No. No more. Not doable. You’re an accountant. He’s a bull rider. No middle ground. Remember?

  Yes. That was the thing to focus on—no middle ground. And she would focus hard.

  She set her tray on the bar as her insides tumbled with anticipation of something she wasn’t going to get. Take it easy—it’s going to take time for kinetic memory to fade. And pheromonal memory. He smelled so damned good, and the scent reminded her of long nights in tangled sheets.

  “Just came to say goodbye.”

  Whitney headed to the far end of the bar and started polishing glasses. Kristen shot her a look, then said to Austin. “Are you going to order something?”

  “Nope.”

  “You only came to say goodbye?”

  His expression softened. “Seemed like the thing to do.”

  Kristen felt the same. She’d wanted to say goodbye, wish him luck out on the road. “Let me drop off this tray and I’ll walk you to your truck.” She hoped she made it. She hadn’t expected just seeing him again to have this kind of effect on her—to make her knees feel all rubbery and her chest tight.

  “Sure.”

  She took care of the tray and clocked out for her break. Austin was waiting by the door when she came out of the staff room. Lindsey, the other server, gave her a thumbs-up and Kristen somehow refrained from rolling her eyes. Yes, Austin was thumbs-up worthy, but Lindsey had misread the situation between them.

  “You’re moving better,” she said as they stepped outside and started toward Austin’s truck.

  “Drugged out of my head.”

  Her eyes went wide before she realized he was kidding. Okay. Good. Tension was now officially eased.

  “The leg is feeling better.” He stopped close to his truck, cupping the keys in one hand. “I’m surprised to see you back in the service industry.”

  “It’s different here.” She fought a smile. Lost. It felt good to talk to him. “I have an interview. A Reno company.”

  He gave a small laugh. “Reno. Of course.”

  “It’s a company I had targeted from the beginning.”

  “Good luck with that.” Austin folded his arms over his chest. “I’m…uh…giving an inspirational speech at a high school in a couple days.”

  “Really?” She tried not to look surprised.

  “Yep. I’m going to talk about taking a non-traditional path to success.”

  “You’re the poster child for that.”

  “I am.”

  Kristen smiled as an awkward silence settled over them. She wanted to move, but she was afraid to move.

  Austin shifted his weight. “Well, I just wanted to say goodbye.”

  She nodded, her gaze traveling over him, stirring memories and causing yet another swell of heat to warm her body from the inside out. She swallowed. “I appreciate it.”

  “Good luck with the job interview.”

  “Thanks.”

  Austin dropped his chin to his chest, then raised it again. Their gazes met. Held for one heart-stopping electric moment.

  This isn’t wise.

  Austin reached for her, almost as if he couldn’t help himself, and a second later her arms were around his neck; her mouth was on his. He grew hard against her stomach as he ran a hand over her hip, cupped her ass and pressed her against him.

  A car pulled into the far end of the lot and they broke apart, putting a good two feet of gravel between them. Austin shoved his thumbs into his belt loops and Kristen folded her arms over her chest, but their gazes held. He wanted her. She wanted him.

  Not good.

  Kristen cleared her throat. Her face—make that her entire body—felt like it was on fire. “That was…unexpected.”

  “Was it?” He swallowed after he spoke.

  “I’d convinced myself it was.”

  “We’re going to have to work harder.”

  “Yes.” She meant it. “Like maybe not see each other.”

  “Do we need to go that far?”

  “We might.”

  When they’d been in Salt Lake City, she’d convinced herself that after they’d returned to Marietta, to their everyday lives, their perceived closeness would be revealed for what it was—something ethereal, created in a false environment. Something that couldn’t stand up to reality. They would be friends, but not confidants and lovers. That had been just a quick side trip. Her adventure.

  “Don’t think too hard about this.”

  Kristen frowned at him, disturbed that he knew exactly what she was doing. “Yeah. Right.” How was she not supposed to think about this?

  He tipped her chin up. “We’ll get this under control.”

  “Probably, because there’s a good chance we won’t be bumping into one another all that often.”

  “Which is why you don’t need to think too hard.” He spoke in a low voice that made her insides tumble again.

  “Good luck on the rides.”

  He gave her a cocky smile, but it didn’t
reach his eyes, which remained fixed on her face. “Always.”

  She could barely suppress the urge to lean closer, to kiss him again, which was crazy. And what was crazier still was that part of her wanted to climb into his truck and take off with him—to return to their fantasyland.

  Never in her life had she felt an impulse like this.

  The guy was like a drug.

  “I have to go, Austin.”

  “Me, too.” He reached down and took her hand, pressed a kiss into the palm, then closed her fingers over it.

  “Give it time. Things will mellow out. We’ll be okay.”

  She clenched her fingers around her tingling palm. “Yes,” she said in a determined voice. “We will.”

  Chapter Thirteen

  Austin’s leg ached whenever he put weight on it, which meant that it ached full-time, so he sat in a chair while signing autographs after the Portland event. He considered himself fortunate that the extent of his injuries thus far in the season were the usual aches and pains in the shoulders, elbows, knees and wrist, and a possible fracture of his fibula. He signed his last autograph, smiled at the little girl who took it from him as if it were something precious. “I’m going to ride bulls when I get bigger,” she said.

  Her mother’s smile went tight, as if terrified that her daughter would do just that.

  “My advice is to start small,” Austin said. “With sheep.”

  “I’m already doing that.”

  “Wear all the safety equipment. No matter what. Only uncool people refuse to wear helmets and vests.”

  “But what about Gustavo? He doesn’t wear a helmet.”

  Austin smiled. “Like I said…”

  The night had gone well. He hadn’t won the big money, but he hadn’t gotten any more busted up than he already was, and he’d picked up a travel partner the day before. Kelly Kincaid, who’d come out of nowhere to win Salt Lake, was struggling with finances and there was some issue with his truck that he hadn’t gone into too deeply. Whatever the deal was, Austin was glad for the company. Driving alone for hours gave him too much time to think. He normally didn’t mind being alone and thinking, but lately his thoughts seemed to edge more toward Kristen and less toward mental preparation for the next event.

  Nothing wrong with that…except that, like the kiss in the FlintWorks parking lot, he hadn’t seen this coming. Hadn’t expected to have Kristen haunting his thoughts more and more, rather than less as time passed.

  He’d assumed that after he’d been on the road for a day or two, he’d ease back into his old routine. Training, doing appearances, focusing on the next event. Hanging with his friends. He hadn’t thought he’d be fighting the urge to call Kristen and touch base, hear her voice. What good would that do him?

  He met Kelly in the changing room and the two of them walked to his truck.

  “I appreciate this,” he said for the tenth or eleventh time.

  “Glad to have company,” Austin replied, just to change up his usual ‘not a problem’ response.

  Kelly gave a nod. He was normally a talkative guy—Austin had hung with him a few years before, when he’d spent time in the minors—but, despite the win in Salt Lake and his high finish tonight, he didn’t have a lot to say. Austin was good with that.

  Nothing wrong with a little quiet.

  *

  Kristen had just pulled her car into the driveway after a late shift at FlintWorks when her phone rang and her heart jumped. Late-night calls were never good…especially when Austin’s name appeared on the screen and it was possible that he was calling to tell her he’d been injured. She hadn’t yet had a chance to find video of Austin’s ride, or search for results of the Portland AEBR event, so she had no idea how the finals had turned out.

  “Hello?”

  Please, be okay.

  “Hey.” His voice rolled over her and she relaxed against the seat. He was all right. “I, uh, just felt like checking in.”

  “How was your ride?”

  “Awesome.”

  She gave a low laugh in spite of herself. “Any part of you get twisted, crushed, or bent?”

  “Yes.”

  She laughed again. “Any chance you could expand on your answer?”

  “You don’t want to know tiny details.” She did, but she wasn’t going to push. His tone shifted, became more candid. “I came in third. Had good rides. Nothing got hurt any worse than before.”

  “Good to hear.” He’d made some money and would be pushing on to the next stop—Spokane, Washington.

  “Did you hear back on the interview?”

  “Well, I interviewed via the internet, and now I’m waiting. No idea when I’ll hear whether I made the cut to the next level. How’d the high school talk go?”

  “They listened to me.” He sounded surprised, although she wasn’t—who wouldn’t listen to a guy who risked his life in a big way every time he went to work?

  He told her about his speech, how he’d prepared and used notecards, because he thought he was supposed to, until they got into the way of what he wanted to say.

  “That happens,” Kristen said, thinking that this call felt too intimate for the type of relationship they both wanted, but she wasn’t about to end it.

  “Not to me. I skipped speech class as often as possible. Took the D.”

  “Why am I not surprised?” He gave a low laugh, and she realized that she wanted to hear him laugh again. Enough. “I should go.”

  End this call. Get back to reality.

  “Yeah. Me, too. I don’t know when I’ll be able to call again.”

  “That’s okay.” It was supposed to be, anyway.

  After Austin said goodbye, Kristen went into the empty house, changed into her sleeping T-shirt, then lay in bed watching his rides. She knew he’d done well, but that didn’t keep her heart out of her throat as she watched eight long seconds of action. Twice.

  In both prelims and finals he’d ridden until the horn blew. Both times he dismounted and made it to the gate unscathed, but he was limping more than before after his final ride. That damned leg injury. Had he had it looked at?

  She’d bet not.

  She replayed the videos. It was obvious he was doing what he loved. Grit and determination were evident in every practiced move he made as he prepared for the rides. The confidence in the quick nod before the gate opened and the bovine Kraken was released. The stunning skill he showed as the bull gyrated, twisted, bucked and reared.

  He raised his hand in victory after both rides. Despite the limp, he carried himself like a champion as he left the arena.

  He was a champion. Doing what he loved. Pursuing a dream that could be crushed at any moment.

  That took guts.

  Kristen put the phone aside and closed her eyes, picturing Austin striding across the arena, ignoring his limp, focusing on his victory. The guy had panache.

  The guy made her ache.

  *

  Austin’s win in Spokane, following his painful third-place finish in Portland, came at a price.

  Riveter had given Austin one hell of a ride, then sealed the deal by hooking him before he could get to his feet, tossing him sideways. Austin landed on his bad leg, which once again turned bluish black, and this time the sports medicine team told him to stop fucking around and have the leg X-rayed. If it hadn’t been fractured before, it certainly was now.

  Less than an hour later, Austin had his answer—a fracture of the fibula, mid-shaft, thank goodness, which was the best of all possible breaks. He was good to go for the rest of the season, as long as he protected the leg. Of course, riding bulls made that an iffy proposition, but he’d do his best.

  Kelly suffered a dislocated elbow and a wrenched ankle during the prelims, so the trip to Nampa was slow and easy. They arrived the day before the meet and greet and took it easy, hanging out in the hotel spa, putting their battered bodies on display for anyone who cared to glance their way. Both wore AEBR ball caps as they let the spa jets work their sor
e muscles, and it didn’t take long for word to spread that there were honest to goodness bull riders in the spa. The kids showed up first, followed closely by women, some young, some older, all kind of interested in what a body looked like that went through hell every week.

  Kelly focused on the water, not making eye contact, even when a couple of women slipped into the opposite side of the spa and smiled at the two bull riders.

  As they’d driven from Portland to Spokane last week, Kelly had finally let out his story in fits and starts. He was married and his wife had left him mid-tour because she couldn’t handle the stress of his career. Austin had extrapolated that last part, but it made sense. The wife was gone. Kelly’s truck was gone. Kelly was in a perpetually shitty mood. He’d experienced the same thing more than once, only without the rings on the fingers. For that he was grateful.

  “I’m heading back to my room,” Kelly said as another woman eased into the spa. He stood up, water sheeting off him, oblivious to disappointed looks sent his way.

  “Yeah. I’m coming, too.” Austin smiled at the ladies, then followed his friend. He was glad to escape. He had tapes to watch, and he wanted to stretch while his muscles were loose from the hot water and jets…and since hooking up with Kristen, he hadn’t had much of an eye for the women. She’d kind of ruined him in that regard. As it was, he had to stop himself from reaching for the phone and contacting her a couple dozen times a day.

  The important thing was that he was stopping himself, thus allowing Kristen to move on without worrying about him.

  Yep. Moving on.

  He got into the elevator with Kelly and they rode up to the ninth floor where they went their separate ways. Kelly was pinching pennies, but had sprung for a decent room in Nampa and Austin suspected it was for his lady, just in case she decided to join him.

  For Kelly’s sake, Austin hoped that happened. And if it didn’t—well it’d be a long, silent ride to Cheyenne.

  *

  Less than two weeks after Austin’s call from Portland, Kristen was on the road to Reno for her interview—the interview that might have saved her from the consequences of her half-baked scheme had it happened four or five weeks ago.