I couldn’t help but laugh. Nowthisguy was a walking red flag. It should be illegal to be that charming and that good looking. But lucky for me, I already had my own hot as hell cowboy, and found him plenty charming.
“Sorry,sweetheart,” I tossed back with a sugary-sweet voice. “But I don’t consider eight seconds a long ride.” I might not know much about rodeos, but Hux had let me know eight seconds was the magical number when it came to staying on a bull or bucking horse.
The cowboy was unfazed, that smug, perfect grin of his pulling wider on his face. Seriously, how was this guy not a model or something? “Not all my rides are eight seconds, darlin’.”
“Yeah, kid, sometimes you only last four,” Mr. Mooney chimed in, his words cutting to the bone even as a charming smile lit up his handsome features. Looking at him and his son side by side…wow. The Mooneys had some amazing genes.
Hux huffed out a laugh and pulled me tighter into his side as he kissed the top of my head. I glanced up at him, completely ignoring Cash and his father bickering back and forth. As entertaining as that was, seeing Hux so happy and light…it was magnificent. I couldn’t help but wonder why he’d stayed away from the rodeo for so long. Especially when just being here clearly mended some of the shattered parts of his soul.
“Didn’t they just call bareback ridin, dipshit?” Hux asked.
“Yeah,” Bad added, a frown forming on his face. “What the fuck are you doin’ out here? Better yet, what the hell’s wrong with Mav if he let you go?”
Cash brushed his dad off with a dismissive wave. “I need my lucky light.”
My brows furrowed together even as Mr. Mooney growled out some incoherent curse. “What the fuck are you talkin’ about, dumbass?” he managed to get out.
“Well, I like to carry a pack of smokes in my bag to light up right before some of my rides. I’m out, and Mav ain't smokin’ now since Chey had the baby and I figured since Mama ain’t here, you’d be lightin’ up like a damn chimney.”
Seemed like a bit of an over the top pregame ritual if you asked me, but his dad just shrugged and felt around in his chest pocket then both of his back jean pockets. “Fuck,” he all but snarled. “Where the hell did I leave ‘em?”
I bit back a grin at the following string of curses that fell from his lips. And I’d always thought cowboys were the epitome of manners and gentlemanly behavior, but apparently they had the mouths of sailors. It was okay though, I didn’t mind at all.
Hux shifted, his hold on me vanishing as he reached into his back pocket. “Here, I got ya.”
Cash’s grin was luminous as he grabbed the cigar in one hand and clapped Hux on the shoulder with the other. I noted the slight shudder that rippled through Hux, but it did little to dim his own grin. “Well, damn, look at you comin’ in clutch like that? Thanks, man. I’ll let it slide that your girl hurt my pride.” He chuckled, more to himself than anyone else. “I gotta run, but y’all should come out with us tonight.”
“Oh, I don’t know,” Hux replied, but Cash was already disappearing through the crowd as the first bareback rider was announced.
Chapter twenty-six
Dear Rodeo
Hux
Icouldn’t recall atime in my life where I’d sat in the stands of a rodeo and not competed. Even when I’d been out for injuries, anytime I watched, I was down in the thick of it, there to cheer on Reid or whatever other buddies I knew were competing.
This…this was new. Different. But it didn’t have any less effect on me. The sounds, the smells, the air I breathed felt so familiar that it was easy to conjure up an image in my mind. And just like that night at the bar with Quinn—and every moment with her since—it’s like I could see everything clearly.
And so much joy filled my heart, so much calm settled over my soul like a warm blanket, that I wondered why the hell I’d waited so damn long to make my way back here.
The rodeo always had been and always would be in my bones—whether I could compete or not. Trying to ignore it was like trying to ignore part of my soul.
The sweet familiar scent of Quinn’s lemongrass and vanilla perfume drifted on the soft breeze that kissed my cheeks and I took the opportunity to pull her tighter against me. None of this would have been possible without her.
I don’t know if she realized how big of a moment this was, or just how much of an impact she had on me, but I would forever be changed because of her.
Bad Mooney had insisted we sit in his box with him. “I don’t need all this goddamn space, and you ain’t gonna get shit for seats now. So shut up and accept the offer.”Bad words. Whit had found us about halfway through the lineup of bareback bronc riders when she’d gone to get a drink. How she could get up during an event, willing to miss any of the action was a mystery to me, but this was her first rodeo after all, so I’d forgive her. Though I might not if she didn’t stop talking. I could understand if it were about the damn rodeo, but apparently she was more interested in people’s outfits and hair.
Quinn impressed the hell out of me though, which wasn’t surprising at this point. Everything she did seemed to impress me. God, I really was whipped.
“So, what exactly determines the score?” Quinn asked. “I know part of it is lasting the entire eight seconds, but some guys get higher numbers than the others? Why?”
I nodded toward where I knew Bad was now sitting. “That’s a question for a legend himself.” Sure, I could tell her, but I knew Bad enjoyed getting to relive his glory days any chance he could, and it wasn’t everyday you could ask a famous bronc rider tricks of the trade.
“You were a rodeo cowboy?” That was Whit—surprise ringing in her voice.
“Damn right, I was. I got buckles older than you, girl.”
