Flanked

by Cat Johnson

  “Yeah?” He raised his gaze from inspecting his knee and planted the icepack back on the swollen joint.

  “How’d you know Annie was the one?”

  Luke’s brows rose high before a smile bowed his lips. “There someone special, kid?”

  “No.” Garret frowned and tried to ignore being called kid. “Just wondering.”

  “Mmm, hmm.” Luke didn’t look convinced. He shrugged. “I guess you just…know. I’m happier than I’ve ever been when we’re together, and I was a pretty miserable bastard when we were apart—just ask my family and friends back home. They had to put up with me.”

  Luke grinned at Garret, then his gaze cut to the doorway and his face beamed, radiating light as if a bulb had been turned on. Garret followed Luke’s glance and saw Annie standing in the doorway.

  “Hey. How’s the knee?” she asked.

  “Better, now that you’re here.” Luke smiled and Garret could actually feel the tension leave the man next to him.

  His mind shot to Silver and the times they’d been together. The only thing he could think about, when he could manage to get his brain to function at all around her, was when they’d be together again. But that was fueled by hormones, he was sure, so it didn’t count. And she was a fun person, so the fact he enjoyed spending time with her even when they weren’t having sex didn’t count either.

  God, he sure hoped all those things weren’t signs that Silver could be the one for him, because Aaron would not be happy about it.

  Chapter Eight

  Through half-closed lids Silver looked at Aaron as he sat in his bed not looking at all sleepy. Crap. Even her trick of saying goodnight and rolling over so he’d turn off the television and light hadn’t worked. Apparently, he was wide awake and her rendezvous with Garret was looking less and less likely to happen. Good thing they’d gotten a quickie in after his ride at the arena.

  With a sigh, she gave up pretending to be asleep and sat against the headboard. “Something wrong, bro?”

  “No, why?” He frowned.

  “You seem restless. Can’t sleep?”

  “It’s just hard to wind down sometimes after I ride. Especially after I ride as shitty as I did tonight.” Aaron shrugged.

  “It didn’t look so shitty to me. I mean, you can’t ride them all, right?” Listen to her, giving Aaron bull-riding advice. Wonders never cease.

  “Yeah, it’s just hard when the other guys cover their rides and I don’t.” He shook his head and blew out a breath. “Frigging Garret and his ninety-point ride.”

  “Maybe he had an easier bull than you did.”

  “No. Not at all. That bull was rank. He just rode really well.”

  “And next time you will too.”

  Aaron turned to look at her. “Thanks, Susan.”

  “No problem.” Silver let it slide that he’d called her by the wrong name again. She was feeling too guilty about her secret plans to meet Garret to yell at Aaron now.

  “And thanks for coming to see me this weekend. It means a lot.”

  “No problem at all, bro.”

  He pursed his lips, looking like he had more to say. “I’m sorry I haven’t been to see your band.”

  Silver shrugged. It wasn’t like she was all that diligent about watching him ride either. “Hey, you’re busy traveling and stuff. I understand.”

  “Yeah, but still…”

  “I’ll make you a deal. You stop calling me Susan and I’ll totally forgive you.”

  He cringed. “Sorry. Habit.”

  She opened her eyes wide. “Yeah, well break it. You quit that disgusting chewing tobacco.”

  “I’ll do my best.” The guilty look on Aaron’s face told her that maybe he hadn’t quite kicked the chew habit after all.

  “Well, that’s all anybody can do, isn’t it?” Silver was some kind of philosopher tonight. This must be what came from finally being able to think past the craving for sex. She should have scratched that itch long ago—not doing so had probably cost her a few IQ points.

  “Guess so.” He reached for the lamp and her hopes rose as the lights went out. “I’ll turn the volume down on the TV so you can sleep. Okay?”

  She sighed. “Yeah, that’s fine. Night.”

  “Night, Silver.”

  How could she be mad at him when he’d even remembered to call her by the right name? She only hoped Garret figured out quickly that she wasn’t coming and went back to bed himself. Tomorrow, they’d exchange cell-phone numbers so she could text him in case this happened again.

  Even the thought of being with Garret tomorrow night had her smiling…or maybe it was the thought of all the kinds of naughty texts she could send him once she had his number.

  Either way, Silver closed her eyes with happy thoughts on the brain.

  A new night of competition brought a whole new crop of buckle bunnies—girls in tiny tops hanging their tits over the rails and trying to get the riders’ attention. Silver watched it all through narrowed eyes during the intermission. Even though she did now have Garret’s cell-phone number saved in her contact list, even though they’d had crazy post-ride sex outside this very building just twenty-four hours ago, she was still getting pretty tired of the bull-rider groupies.

  “How do you stand it?”

  “Stand what?” Leesa glanced sideways at Silver.

  “Knowing all these girls are going to be here every week hanging all over Chase.” Silver left off the rest of her thought—that the groupies were here stalking Chase and Garret, even on the weeks when Leesa was not.

  Leesa laughed. “It’s not easy. Believe me. I guess it builds trust. If our relationship couldn’t stand this, then I suppose that would be a sign we shouldn’t be together.”

  Silver sent Leesa a look filled with doubt. She couldn’t possibly be that complacent, or confident. Silver wasn’t even dating Garret and she was ready to dump her concession-stand cup full of beer on the head of one of the floozies currently giving him the eye. Then again, Silver always had been pretty possessive of her things. Way back to her toys when she was a kid and refused to share with her two older brothers. She still didn’t understand her parents’ attitude about that. Aaron and Michael had their own stuff. Why did they need to play with hers?

  The one problem was, even though she’d been enjoying Garret recently, he certainly wasn’t hers. This casual sex was a double-edged sword. On one hand, she got all of the fun with none of the problems that came from having a commitment. On the other hand, she got all of the problems and competition with floozies that came from not having a commitment. Silver narrowed her gaze at the girl Garret was now signing something for.

  She let out a deep sigh. Oh well. Tonight in the truck she’d make sure there was no room in Garret’s thoughts for anybody else. Silver noticed Leesa looking in her program and totally ignoring the hordes of hoochies down below. She followed suit and opened her own booklet. At least she’d learned some things this trip. She knew enough to look for the line-up for the night so she could find out when Garret—and Aaron—were riding. If she could sneak out without Aaron noticing, Silver definitely wouldn’t mind a repeat of last night’s event behind the building.

  Glancing down, she caught Garret’s attention. He smiled at her—a knowing, private smile that told her he was thinking about the same thing she was, before Chase drew him away to talk.

  There was definitely something to be said about this sneaking around. It made everything seem ten times more exciting. Not that being with Garret wouldn’t have been pretty exciting without the sneaking around. The man did know his way around a woman’s body. And he was sure curious to learn more—his experimenting with her hood piercing and trying to figure out what she liked best in that area was just one indication of that.

  Damn, now she was all tingly again, just from thinking about him. When was he riding? She stared down at the program with a frown and tried to decipher the line-up.

  “Aaron’s in the last flight. Then after that, if
he scores high enough, he might be in the short go. That’s the final round.” Leesa pointed to the page in her own program.

  “Oh, thanks.” Not quite the information Silver was looking for, but she couldn’t tell Leesa that. She kept glancing at the program, looking as casual as possible, until she found Garret’s name. Crap, he was in the last flight too, right after Aaron. No way she’d be able to sneak out with him for a post-ride adrenaline fuck.

  Oh well, they’d just have to reserve their energy for tonight and hope Aaron fell asleep. Maybe she should buy him a few shots—or a dozen—and make sure he did.

  The tractor dragging the arena dirt finished its job and exited through the gate, and Silver saw the bulls in the chutes for the next flight. She glanced at the program again. More rides maybe followed by a round of drinks with the guys before she put Aaron to bed in the hotel and snuck out. Tonight would be over soon. The way her clit was starting to throb, Silver had to think it wasn’t soon enough.

  Chapter Nine

  Garret had never been on Bad Boy before, but he knew the bull well. Hell, they all did. The animal was famous. His name was as well known as any rider’s, and that was because he’d dumped even the top guys in the dirt. World champions and rookies alike hit the ground when Bad Boy came out of the chute, dipped low and then whipped to the left. It didn’t matter that riders knew what was going to happen, that the bull did the same move every damn time out, because before a guy could correct for it, he was already airborne.

  Oh, Bad Boy had been ridden, twice to be exact, but the ride hadn’t been pretty either time. Silver’s term like a ragdoll came to mind. That described what some of the best riders in the world looked like when on Bad Boy’s back.

  Garret straddled the rails and tried to plan his strategy. He eyed the fifteen hundred pounds from his position above the bull.

  “You gotta keep your rope forward, kid. I know it’s not how you like to ride, but on this bull you’re gonna have to.” Luke stood next to him.

  “I know.” Garret nodded.

  “You’re a left-handed rider so that’s good. At least he’s going to turn into your hand.”

  He didn’t remind Luke that he was a left-handed rider who also had a bum left shoulder. Instead, Garret nodded again, trying to absorb Luke’s words while also trying to not overthink the ride.

  Bull riding was mental, yes, but in the end it came down to muscle memory, the rider’s subconscious ability to feel changes in his position and adjust his balance accordingly. It had to be like a reflex action, innate, because by the time a rider took the time to think about what he had to do, it would all be over. In a sport where eight seconds was a long time, a man couldn’t count on his thoughts to lead his body.

  While on top of the chute, Garret was thinking plenty. Too much. Bad Boy and his reputation were beginning to psyche him out. The crowd of riders surrounding him was a definite indication of the challenge this bull presented. It wasn’t just Garret’s usual circle of friends with him on top of the chute. Aaron was busy getting ready for his own ride, but along with Skeeter and Chase, Luke was here, giving him advice. Mustang and Slade were nearby too, keeping a close eye on the action.

  Talk about pressure. Garret drew in a deep breath and lowered himself onto the bull’s back. The damn thing was built more like a cow than a bull. His body was streamlined so he didn’t give the rider a wide set of shoulders to sit behind. Instead, he was narrow and straight. That was part of the problem, but it was his whipping action that usually had the riders in the dirt in less than three seconds.

  Better men than Garret had fallen because of Bad Boy, and now thanks to the luck of the draw, it was his turn to join that group of riders. At least he’d made a good ride last night. Hopefully that had been impressive enough for Silver, because tonight’s ride was going to suck.

  “Keep the handle centered or your hold’s going to slip too far to the side when he whips to the left.” Luke’s voice came from above him.

  Garret kept his focus on the bull’s back and loosened his bull rope. He moved it farther forward on the bull’s back and centered the handle instead of having it off to the left. It would be insane to not listen to Luke. He was one of only two men in this series who’d actually stayed on this bull for eight, but it was still going to be a challenge to Garret to change up his usual routine.

  Chase stood on the rail and pulled the bull rope tight as Garret wrapped the tail around his hand and tried not to think about how different having his hand this far forward and centered felt.

  He never spent this much time in the chute. The delay did nothing but ramp up his nerves and make him doubt himself. Garret needed to get on with this ride and now. His mouth guard was in, his spurs were forward of the flank strap, and his wrap, no matter how strange it felt, was tight and secure. That was it.

  Garret nodded to the gate man and called out through the grill of his helmet, “Buck him!”

  True to form, Bad Boy dipped his front end low right out of the chute. Not liking how far forward his bull rope was, Garret had been leaning slightly back. It may be what saved his body from being thrown forward. The bull whipped to the left, but Garret’s hand being in center kept him from slipping off to the side from the force of that first move. It didn’t stop him from beginning to slip from the centrifugal force of the bull’s spin. He felt his weight shift and used all of his power to hang on. His balance wasn’t centered so he had to rely on sheer muscle to hang on and keep him on to the buzzer. As long as his hand was on the bull rope and his head hadn’t hit the ground, it didn’t matter that he was literally hanging off the right side of the bull.

  Hell, the ride wasn’t pretty, but it was pretty amazing when he heard the buzzer and the cheers of the crowd. Garret finally released his hold and hit the ground. He scrambled to his feet and tried to look for both the bull and the wall. He needn’t have worried. Bad Boy wasn’t after Garret. The animal was a veteran in this sport. He was too busy looking for the out gate, knowing there’d be feed waiting for him now that his job was done.

  Garret took the time to look for the scoreboard and saw as the numbers went up. The bull had scored a solid forty-five. A good bull score. However, Garret only scored a forty for his acrobatics and less-than-orthodox riding style. It didn’t matter. He’d gladly take the eighty-five total score for the ride, along with the honor of being one of only three men to ride Bad Boy at this level of competition.

  A wide grin he couldn’t control stayed on his face all the way out of the arena to behind the chutes where the other riders were there to meet him. As he accepted the congratulations and slaps on the back, the pain began to set in. He hadn’t felt it before, probably because of the adrenaline. He felt it now though as he clutched his right hand to his shoulder.

  “Great ride.” Luke was all smiles until his gaze focused in on Garret holding his arm. “You hurting?”

  He went to shrug but it didn’t quite work. “Same old shoulder pain.” Only it wasn’t. This was way worse and the knowledge settled in Garret’s gut that perhaps an icepack wasn’t going to fix it this time.

  The sea of riders surrounding him parted and the doctor stepped up. “Let’s go in the back so I can take a look at that.”

  Garret nodded, as much as he wanted to say no. The reality was, even if he could ride through the pain his arm felt weak. He wasn’t sure he’d be able to hold himself in position with no strength in his riding arm. Maybe the doc could do something. Give him painkillers or a brace so he could finish the season. Then he’d have to suck it up and get the operation.

  How the hell much would shoulder surgery cost, anyway? He dreaded to even think about it. It would probably empty out his savings account. Crap.

  Garret sat in the sports-medicine room for the second time in two days and pasted a neutral expression on his face—or at least tried his best to as the doctor manipulated his shoulder. What felt like liquid fire shot through the joint.

  “I’m pretty sure you’ve torn the
cartilage.”

  “Well, if it’s torn, then it’ll heal. Right?”

  “It doesn’t exactly work that way.” The doctor shook his head. “You’ll need an MRI to determine how bad it is. You probably shouldn’t put off that surgery any longer.”

  “How long would I be out? If I decide to get the surgery, that is.” Garret wasn’t committing to anything just yet. Not when there was still a hope he could get to Vegas for the finals.

  The doctor stopped his examination and stepped in front of Garret to make direct eye contact with him. “There’s no if about it, Garret. And I’d say six months, including rehab, for it to heal properly and be back to full strength.”

  Garret’s eyes popped open wide. “Six months? I’ve never been out for more than a month in my whole career.”

  “We’re coming up on the long break, so even a six-month recovery will mean you’re only out of competition for the first few events of the new season. That make it sound any better to you?”

  “No.” Garret frowned.

  Another bull rider limped into the medical room, leaning heavily on a member of the sports-medicine team. That meant that Garret had a reprieve from Doc Tandy’s lecture on the surgery. It didn’t mean his brain could focus on anything besides their conversation though. Six months recovery. God, even just the thought of that sucked.

  “You okay?” Silver was next to him, a furrow in her brow.

  He’d been in such a daze, so deep in his own misery, that he hadn’t even seen her walk in. “Yeah, fine.”

  “What’d Tandy say?” Aaron stood on the other side of Silver.

  “Surgery. Six months recovery.”

  “Oh, man. I’m sorry. That sucks.” Aaron cringed.

  “But then you’ll be back after that, right? Good as new.” Silver looked so optimistic it was tempting to just agree with her and move onto a more pleasant subject. Like when they could fuck again to take his mind off all this. But of course, Aaron was there so that subject was off limits.