“Frankie, I am sorry you have been hurt, but I am not that person,” he said gruffly, still not looking her in the eye.
“I know, Luc. I know I was wrong, and I want whatever we had again,” she pleaded softly. “I miss you.”
Luciano finally looked at her, tilting her chin up gently with his hand. “Do you really not know what we have, Querida?”
Frankie tried to look away from his intense gaze, but he wouldn’t let her. “I, ah, know we like each other.”
Luciano gave a hollow laugh. “I think it is time I say goodnight, Frankie. I hope to see you tomorrow night.”
The cold ball of despair hardened in her belly until it turned to lead. She watched helplessly as he walked away, the tears sliding unchecked down her cheeks. When he disappeared from view, her legs crumbled beneath her, no longer able to hold her weight. On the dirty sidewalk, among the stumbling drunks, she wailed her pain out to the night.
Chapter 19
Gabi and Megan sniffed the air with relish. The prospect of the food vans had both girls excitedly forging ahead, eager to sample the culinary delights the various aromas wafting gently on the breeze promised. Frankie scuffed her boots in the dirt, dragging her feet slowly behind them, too caught up in her misery to be tempted by the prospect. The last place she felt like being tonight was here. The very idea of seeing Luciano after last night felt as appealing as pouring vinegar on a grazed knee. Frankie was too emotionally raw to be able to handle the likelihood of running into him with aplomb.
“Come on, Frankie,” Megan called back, attempting to hurry her along. “You look about as happy as a cat in a room full of rocking chairs.”
“Why is there a room full of rocking chairs?” Gabi looked baffled. “Like, in an old people’s home or something?”
“It’s just a saying. You know the cat wouldn’t be thrilled with all those chairs trying to squish its tail,” Megan explained, her attention still firmly fixed on her prospective meals.
“Maybe the cat doesn’t have a tail. You know, like one of those Manx cats,” Gabi suggested.
“I think you are missing the point, Gabi. Frankie looks about as happy as Deb did this morning doing the walk of shame home.”
“In all fairness, Deb looked happy with herself. She was just incredibly hungover.” Gabi grimaced in sympathy at the memory.
“Yeah, she said he showed her a good time, but they were both drunk when they left.” Megan gave a little giggle. “I’m not sure he could even show her an okay time.”
“True that.” Gabi joined in the giggling. “Speaking of which, I’ve decided I want a corn dog.”
“I might get one too. The way we’ve been going, it’s probably the closest we’ll get to a wiener.”
Frankie let her friends’ banter flow around her, not having the heart to partake in the easy jesting. As she followed them, she made a mental note to be more forceful in her refusal the next time they bullied her into coming along to something she didn’t feel like doing. The dying moose noises Deb had been making when they left were preferable to this.
She aimlessly trailed behind, not paying particular attention until she realized she had been separated from them. Not only that, but she had stumbled on the entrance of the competitors’ area. Realizing her mistake, she turned to make a hasty retreat.
“I don’t care what your boyfriend said last night. I think you want it,” a horribly familiar voice taunted. The arse-grabber from the previous night blocked her escape. “And I’m more than happy to give it to you.”
Frankie rolled her eyes heavenward. Great, just what I need right now. “Give up already,” she said in a frustrated voice.
“Oh, I’ll give it up all right,” he said, leaving Frankie feeling like she desperately needed a hot shower with a whole heap of soap, probably disinfectant at the very least. “I’m gonna put it up in places you never—”
With a startled bellow, he fell backward, sprawled at Luciano’s feet. Frankie stared incredulously as he lay for a moment, making gasping noises before he recovered and leapt to his feet.
Luciano stared at him, nostrils flared, menace radiating from every pore. “I warned you last night.”
“The lady is hot for it. Maybe you don’t do it for her anymore,” the arse-grabber sneered, impervious to the imminent threat of peril to his person.
Luciano stood, skin mottled with rage, the tendons in his neck corded, the wrath within fighting against the constraint of his skin. A guttural roar tore from his very soul. Teeth bared, he lowered his head as he barreled toward his tormentor.
The force of his assault sent both men flying to the ground. The bronc rider had fistfuls of Luciano’s clothing as he attempted to wrestle himself from underneath, flailing like a fish on land. Frankie jumped clear of the melee, looking around for help.
Luciano used his greater size to his advantage, raining blows down, his rampage escalating. The crack of knuckles striking bone reverberated, making Frankie wince. And still, Luciano did not cease. His nemesis no longer looked to join the battle but was, instead, desperately seeking an escape from the pain that pulsated through his body and the one that inflicted it. Just as Frankie feared that Luciano would kill the bronc rider, Joao materialized, dragging Luciano clear.
Luciano flexed his hand experimentally, blood on his knuckles as he looked down in disdain at the vanquished cowboy, gingerly trying to right himself. “You stay away from her. If you don’t, next time my friend won’t be around to stop me from really teaching you manners. I will destroy any hope you have of making it in rodeo. You know who I am. You are no one. I will make sure no one will sponsor you, that any events you enter will already be full. Stay away.”
Luciano spat at the ground beside his fallen foe. His rival stared up at him with hostile, hate-filled eyes that were already swollen into tight slits. Blood seeped crimson from his bent nose and split lip.
Luciano strode away from him with Joao on his heels. As he neared Frankie, he firmly took her upper arm in his grasp. “You and I will have a little talk.” His tone brooked no argument. Frankie meekly complied, cowed by the display she had witnessed.
After walking a short distance, Luciano abruptly stopped, speaking rapidly to Joao before clasping his hand in what appeared to be thanks. Joao nodded as he left. He gave Frankie an encouraging smile—one she chose to interpret as support. Luciano turned his commanding gaze to her.
“I think you cannot stay out of trouble.”
“That’s not fair,” she protested, stung at his comment. “You have known me how long? And how often has it happened?”
“Twice in the last two nights.” He held up two battle-damaged fingers to emphasize his point.
Frankie crossed her arms defensively over her chest. “I did nothing to encourage him,” she declared. “Why would I? I’m having enough problems with you, and I love you!” she shouted, her eyes opening wide in horror at what she had inadvertently blurted out.
A slow, smug smile crept over Luciano’s face till the familiar lines creased his face. “I wondered how long it would take you to figure it out.”
A dull flush crept along Frankie’s cheeks as embarrassed tears welled. She scrubbed at her eyes in angry frustration at their betrayal. Work-roughened hands that had caused blood to flow in her defense only moments earlier now gently lowered hers from her face before pulling her into his arms. Home. It finally dawned on Frankie. It feels like home.
“When I first saw you, it was as if my heart already knew.” His voice rumbled in his chest against Frankie’s ear. “But I did not think you were ready to hear it. I thought maybe, if I tell you I love you, you would run away scared.”
Frankie sniffled into his chest. “I think maybe I knew. Well, I knew there was something there. It was like you completed the missing pieces that I didn’t even know I had. It scared me.”
“Querida, how I feel about you, it scares me too. But it feels right. The last few days, I never want to do again.”
Franki
e raised her head from his chest and looked at him, her eyes shining brightly through her tears. “Me neither. I love you, Luc.”
“I love you, too, Querida.” He lowered his head, his lips commanding on hers as he laid claim to what was his.
It proved to be a successful night all round. Luciano won the buckle, both Megan and Gabi ate their fill, and a cowboy finally got his cowgirl.
Chapter 20
The weeks flew by, as time is wont to do, ever relentless in its rhythm. Gabi scoured the countryside looking for mares suitable to add to their breeding program, all the while juggling the business. She secured a deal with a local stud to have their colts sent to Frankie for training. The stud owners, having seen her ride at Need for Speed, were keen to get their horses in for training early, confident her star would rise.
Megan and Deb had their hands full with the influx of horses coming in. Delila had been granted permission from Gabi’s brother, Carlos, to leave the confines of her stall to the relative freedom of a small yard. All the while, Sampson continued to improve under Frankie’s tutelage. Luciano, now staring down the barrel of having qualified for the NFR, was away most weekends, and Frankie’s workload only allowed her to attend some of his events in support.
Frankie was never sure what the near future would bring, only able to focus on one day at a time. It was fair to say, without Gabi’s firm hand at the helm, she would have felt battered by the storm of life. Each morning, Sampson took priority and was worked before she moved on to whichever outside colts were in for training or sale. By early afternoon, after she had handed the last horse over to be cooled down, she would head inside.
Settling down to paperwork, she would work through training notes to send to clients, plan any events they might need to get hauled to and arrange times for potential buyers to inspect them. Late afternoon found her catching up with Gabi to find out what the next day would bring.
Frankie sunk gratefully into her chair, exhaustion’s shadow upon her face. “That roan colt should sell tomorrow, if the buyers are genuine. He’s turned out to be a real sweetheart,” she said, rubbing her tired eyes.
Gabi looked up from her spreadsheet. “The owners will be happy. How many is that this month?” she asked rhetorically, consulting her computer. “That’s five you’ve sold for them this month.”
“Just trying to keep the client happy.” Frankie absently rubbed her neck. “Sampson is almost ready to haul to some small events, too.”
Gabi looked up, a keen interest in her eyes. “How long before you know if he will be able to step up to bigger events?” she said, leaning forward on her elbows. “Black Angus have been patient, but we need you out there again getting your name about.”
Frankie looked down at her hands, considering the question. “The first few events will be a big indicator. He’s improving his runs all the time at home, but it just depends on how he handles the atmosphere once we’re out.”
“Carlos is going to visit soon. I’ll get him to give Delila the once over in the flesh. If he’s happy, we’ll look at putting her to Sampson. That should produce one heck of a foal.” Gabi’s dark eyes flashed happily at the thought of the match.
“I’m too young to be a grandmother,” Frankie joked, stifling a yawn. “I better have a shower and get going.” She rose wearily to her feet. “No rest for the wicked.”
“You love it.” Gabi chuckled. “Speaking of wicked—or should I say, wicked thoughts—say hello to Luciano for me and wish him luck for the weekend.”
“Will do. He’s so focused right now. If he can manage to not have any injuries, he has a good chance at the finals in Vegas.” She yawned again. “Anyway, better keep moving.”
Frankie sat, drowsy with contentment, empty plate before her mute evidence to the vigor of her hunger. Across the table, she watched Luciano scrape up the last of the mashed potato that had accompanied the already-inhaled T-bone. He gave a satisfied groan of overindulgence as he smacked his lips, the final morsel having melted away in his mouth. Catching her indulgent smile, he raised an eyebrow comically.
“That I enjoyed.” He belched. “Maybe a little too much.” The corners of his mouth twitched.
An ache filled her. Suddenly, it felt as if he was too far away from her. The need to be physically close to him made her slide her foot under the table until her leg settled against his. Luciano’s dark eyes glowed warmly at her.
“I like that you no longer hide that you want to touch me.”
Frankie gave him a playful smile. “I like it, too.” A whisper of a thought entered her mind. “Everything about you makes me feel warm and safe. I didn’t expect that,” she said.
He leaned forward to capture her hands in his, rubbing his thumbs in a circular motion on the back. The friction from the rough pad of his thumbs sent waves of electricity shooting through Frankie. “I love this is how I make you feel, Querida. But I hope that is not all you feel when I touch you.”
It was impossible for her not to be captivated by his magnetism as he stared intently into her eyes, a promise evident in his gaze.
She gave a breathless little laugh, her mouth suddenly dry. She wet her lips with the tip of her tongue. “You are a very tempting man, Luc.”
His gaze was hot as he stared at her mouth, unable to look away. “You will get us into trouble if you keep doing that,” he growled.
A feeling of power surged through Frankie. Never in a million years had she thought she could attract the attention of a man like Luciano. But not only had she captured it, she also held it, along with his heart. Happiness blazed from her shining eyes as she looked at her cowboy.
“I think it might be time to ask for the check.”
Chapter 21
The light show flashed as the rodeo queens galloped their horses in an intricately choreographed display, flags flying behind them. Frankie perched on the edge of her seat, excited as a kid on Christmas morning. She had seen footage of the previous years’ events, but to actually sit in the hallowed space that was the Thomas and Mack Arena exceeded even her wildest dreams. She felt a twinge of pity that Megan and Deb had had to stay behind to manage the stud.
The queens disappeared out of the arena as the spotlight once again focused, its bright lights heralding the beginning of the next event—bull riding. An expectant quiet fell over the crowd as the announcer began his preamble of what was to come. The tension grew as he finally began to introduce the bull riders, fire flowing like lava across the surface of the arena as they walked one by one through a blizzard of fireworks.
“Oh my gosh, there he is!” squealed Gabi beside her as Luciano stepped proudly through the sparks.
Frankie filled her eyes with the glorious sight of Luciano, magnetic strength resonating from him as he stood with his fellow competitors. Soon, the showdown would begin in earnest. But for now, each stood to savor the moment as if to last a lifetime. She turned to Gabi, her eyes shiny with excitement.
“He looks good, doesn’t he?”
Her friend nodded enthusiastically. “Like a champion.” Gabi scanned the other bull riders. “Joao looks like he means business too.”
Frankie looked at her in surprise. It wasn’t like her to actually notice Joao, more like him always noticing her. “Yes, he does. Luc says he has shown a lot of improvement this year.” The main lights flooded the arena causing the girls to settle back into their chairs. “Showtime.”
As eight seconds flashed up on the clock, both girls hugged each other, giving a little squeal.
“That was a good ride, right?” Frankie looked to Gabi for affirmation. “He’ll score well with that, don’t you think?”
Gabi laughed. “Do I get a chance to answer or would you just like to rapid-fire questions at me?” she teased her friend, giving her a nudge with her shoulder. “I think he rode well, but we will find out any minute now.”
Both girls watched the big screen with bated breath. Frankie let out a long sigh as 88 materialized on the screen. “Ladies and gen
tlemen, the big Brazilian has done enough to be the round winner for tonight. Put your hands together and make some noise.”
Frankie smiled proudly. “Guess we better congratulate tonight’s winner.”
“I guess. Hey Frankie, how did he know?” Gabi asked curiously.
“Know what?” Frankie confused, gathered up her coat.
“That he’s big.”
Frankie threw her coat at Gabi in mock disgust. “Really? That’s the angle you want to go with?”
“Well, is there an angle you prefer, or is that strictly between you and Luc?”
Frankie threw her hands up in despair. “I give up. You’re starting to sound like Deb.”
The South Point presentation room was packed to overflowing for the go round winners buckle presentation. It wasn’t much better backstage as all the winners had their posse of family, friends and supporters ready to amble on stage when it was their turn.
Frankie stood soaking in the triumphant atmosphere, secure with Luc’s arm wrapped snuggly around her waist as people congratulated him. Though the air was jubilant, a sense of anticipation still hung. A win in the round was a great achievement and step in the right direction, but it still wasn’t the ultimate prize every competitor came to the NFR for. Frankie craned her neck to see a glimpse of the stage as the roping winner stepped out with supporters in tow.
Senhor Eduardo stood beside them with Gabi and Joao, his expression far away as if lost in memories of rodeo championships gone by. Frankie wondered if an old bull rider ever lost the urge to prove they were the best, the one to tame the beast for eight seconds. From the stage, the banter of the hosts continued as they included the VIPs and Rodeo Queens in the presentation.
“Ladies and gentlemen, once again, put your hands together for tonight’s roping round champion, Colt McGomery, and keep them together as we welcome to the stage the Rampaging Brazilian, tonight’s go round bull riding winner, Luciano Navarro.”
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