“Now I know why Caine is always so pissy,” Patrick utters with a scowl.
He’s talking to an attractive man who appears to be around the same age as me. He’s cute, tall, with blonde hair and green eyes. But swaying on his feet.
I don’t approach, realizing I’m pretty sure the guy is drunk off his ass. And it’s like nine in the morning!
“Who’re you?” the guy says, leering at me like I’m his lunch.
I’m not even exaggerating; he licks his lips.
“What the fuck?” Patrick asks the guy before turning his head.
I can’t help it—I smile big at the grin Patrick gifts me.
“Well, aren’t you a sight for sore eyes,” Patrick says.
What happens next has me clutchingmy stomach, almost knocking me on my ass.
Patrick pushes the drunk guy, who falls right on his ass.
“What the fuck, Pat?” the loser groans from the ground. “Aren’t you married?”
The best part of the entire thing is that the douchebag doesn’t even try to get up. He just lies there like a loser.
Without a second thought, I run to Patrick and give him a big hug.
“So, you’re the reason Caine took his first day off,” Patrick says, lifting me off my feet.
“I don’t think so,” I say with a shrug. “He isn’t home.”
I find I’m frowning. I could call him, but I’m kind of pissed he left me after our night together with what may as well be a Dear John letter.
I could call him if I need him. What does that even mean?
I shake off my melancholy and force a smile at Patrick. I may be feeling a bit insecure. I know that!
“What are you doing?” I ask.
“I was training the Bronc riders, but this asshole had to ruin everything when he arrived drunk,” Patrick yells, turning to the guy still on the ground.
Did he fall asleep? I cringe and frown down at the guy.
“Show me around?” I ask.
“It would be my pleasure. But I know Caine has plans for you today, so wipe that shit from your mind. He’s rusty at this stuff, buttrust me, he’s got plans,” Patrick says, placing an arm around my shoulders.
I follow him down a long path until we get to what looks like a fenced-in mud pit.
“Watch,” Patrick says, nudging me in my side.
I stand out of the rider’s view, watching a young man hop onto the fence before climbing over and sitting on a horse inside a small enclosure that has a door to a bigger pen.
Patrick smiles down at me. “That there is an arena. Jerod is riding Tranquil,” he says, pointing at the guy sitting on the horse. “She’s a feisty gal. When that chute opens, he’s gonna come out, and she’s gonna do her best to buck him off her back. Jerod is gonna do his damnedest to stay on Tranquil for eight seconds. He’s got to hold on with one hand, keeping his spurs connected to her shoulders when he exits. Watch,” he says when the gate opens.
My heart about stops as I watch the young man lean back as the door opens and the horse jumps and kicks trying to throw him off. He manages to hold on to the horse even with one hand. I hug myself when he falls to the ground.
“Well, that’s why we practice,” Patrick says with a smile.
I’m horrified. The man is trying to roll away from the horse! What if he gets trampled?
