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I wrap my arm around her shoulders and pull her in closer, the smell of jasmine wrapping around me. “As a kid, sure,” I answer honestly. “But I’m pretty sure the horse was at least seventy years old, and he would have gone wherever the trail guide went. I’m not sure it counts.” When she beams up at me, my chest tightens. She’s just so fucking beautiful, even backed by dead animals and a ranch that’s now full of people getting just a touch sloppy. “You?”
Ellis looks forward, watching as another rider gets thrown, and the line moves again. There’s one more person before us.
“Same,” she says. “One more to go.”
Nerves start twisting my stomach in knots as the country music sounds through the large speakers by the stage. Guests have taken to the dance floor, throwing any formal swing dancing out the window and resorting to something far more similar to what you’d find in a city bar–though the belt buckles are far bigger.
Another rider falls, and Josh gestures to Ellis, encouraging her to climb over thick blue mats and onto the giant chunk of metal at the center.
She climbs onto the mechanical bull, adjusts the cowboy hat on her head, and offers me a megawatt smile that does something funny to my insides.
I’m so down bad.
Noah and Ryan are going to love it.
“You ready there, Miss?” Josh calls through his small microphone, and Ellis nods in his direction, grasping the rope with one hand and holding her hat on with the other. Her dark hair spills around the oversized flannel she’s wearing, her jeans tight in a way that I’m trying and failing not to notice. It’s when I see the joy shining in her eyes, I realize I’ve somehow won the jackpot.
“Eight seconds, Miss,” Josh says. “Yee-haw.”
The bull starts slow. Nervous laughter pours through her lips as her hand tightens on the rope tied around the barrel. I cup my arms around my mouth, shouting to cheer her on. When I whistle loud enough for the entire ranch to hear, Ellis laughs.
The bull picks up pace, and I look at the timer stationed next to Josh. Three seconds.
“Halfway,” I shout, a grin breaking across my face as the bull picks up speed. Ellis is tossing her head back laughing, legs clinging for dear life as her butt slides around the barrel. The timer sounds for eight seconds, and she hops off with a smug look on her face.
I hand back her drink as she pats me on the chest. Her cheeks are flushed, eyes glowing. “You’re up next, Cowboy.”
Josh waves me on. I hoist myself onto the fake animal, running a hand through my hair nervously and grabbing the rough rope. I’m pretty sure it’s going to slice off my skin with how scratchy it is.
“Alright there, Bud,” Josh starts. “I went easy on your lady there, but you and I both know you got more in you. One hand on the rope only. Eight seconds.”
I swallow.
Fuck.
Country music blasts through the speakers. My palms are sweating, and my heart lodges in my throat. I think I black out.
One second I’m on the bull, and the next I’m on the mat, looking at the timer that reads two seconds. I lean my head back on the blue padding and stare at the ceiling.
Josh is laughing through the microphone, and I can hear Ellie’s giggles from a mile away.
Pulling myself up, I allow myself to participate in a new kind of walk of shame, hopping down and feeling slightly better when Ellis draws me in for a hug.
Her bright eyes stare up at me, shining with unfathomable amounts of delight. “Not so bad.”
“It was rigged.” I can’t help the smile on my face. My tone is void of any bite.
Ellis looks over to the bar where the same older woman is serving shredded chicken sandwiches and hot dogs.
“I’m starving,” she announces. “Let’s eat, and then can we dance?”
I take her hat off and plant a kiss on her temple before replacing it on her head. She could ask me anything, and I’d go along with her.
“Of course.”
“Ellie and Stuart?”
I nearly choke on my drink from where we’re seated, turning to find a familiar blonde woman standing in a white skirt, flannel shirt, and pink cowboy boots.
