Page 54 of Live Love Lasso

“It’s not her, Ek. Trust me on that.”

Echo snorts, the gold ring in her snout jiggling against her upper lip. “Maybe not. Maybe so. You turn up with white eyeballs, and I’m gonna get Bishop to arrest that girl, though, no matter how much you like her.”

I plant my hands on her desk and lean over, giving her a meaningful look. “I like her a lot, Ek. I’m gonna get that woman tattooed on my body the moment Cairn has a free spot out at the shop.”

Echo’s dark brows rise. “You serious right now?” She lashes her long tail side to side like a cornered cat.

“I’m serious.” I stare at her.

Echo stares right back. After an eternity, she sighs and drops her arms, slipping her hands into her jeans pockets. “Furyon, I’ve adored you since the moment we became friends. I trust your judgment. I respect everything about who you are. That’s why we’re good partners. If she’s that important to you, I’ll try to be more…welcoming.”

I grin as I shoot her a wink. “I’d mightily appreciate that, bestie. That woman does something to me I never thought I’d get to have.”

She shudders. “Gross. I don’t need that play-by-play, though. Nor do I want the mental image of you two naked, so let’s never discuss that again ‘cause I’m pretty sure that’s what you’re referencing.” She curls her upper lip back. “Damn, and she’s a vampire too, so I bet your whole place is covered in blood, ain’t it? You better be careful before you attract some predators with that smell.”

I snort out a laugh. “She is a predator, Ek. Since you asked so sweetly, I won’t tell you about how I asked Lemon to hunt me. That was sexy as fuck.”

She slaps both hands over her long ears and jerks her head toward the door. “Hells naw. Git.”

I elbow her in the gut as I pass by her. She feigns pain and drops back into her chair, lashing out at my back with her tail. She slaps me hard as fuck, but it makes me chuckle.

“You’re faster than you look,” I tease.

“And you’re slower than you should be,” she snarks back.

I shoot her a final smile as I grab my bag and head out the door to my truck.

I drive faster than I ought to getting to Rip Shorthorn’s ranch. He’s the Punishers’ coach, well, for a little while longer. We tried to get another Gulcher to come home and coach the team, but Manorin declined, opting to live full-time in a cute little haven in Massachusetts with his pretty succubus mate. They’ve got a home out here, but I don’t see them as much as I’d like to.

Rip always hosts a bull riding event and food truck rodeo after Punishers home games. He’s a Gulcher through and through, but I swear he’s Pine Gulch’s most popular resident on account of the regular parties.

Shit, maybe we could get downtown PG to accept him as Keeper. He didn’t test positive for the Keeper test at Hearth HQ, obviously, or he’d be a Keeper in one of the havens. But maybe we don’t need someone who’s classically trained by monster leadership.

He’s already a politician of sorts, and he’d be good at it. I make a mental note to talk to Sheriff Rygold about that next time I see him. Who knows if downtown would allow it though. Or if Rip’s even interested in taking on another role. He’s got a new grandcalf on the way, and it wouldn’t surprise me at all if his goal is to spend more time at home.

I park my truck in the field behind his barn and pick my way through hundreds of vehicles toward the arena. Between the arena and other buildings, a circle of a dozen or more food trucks already host throngs of monsters.

Shouts rise up from the stands, so the bull riding must have started already.

I can tell Lemon’s here. It’s like I can feel her in my chest, tugging at me even though we haven’t claimed one another or even discussed if that’s a thing we’ll do. But as I pick my way through the crowd to the dirt pathway encircling the arena, I know it’s a convo we’re gonna have soon. Up ahead, she’s walking with Bluebell by her side. Bluebell holds a tray full of nachos, and Lemon’s got a hot dog in each hand, giggling at something Bluebell’s saying.

The girls look joyous together, and I take a moment to fucking appreciate what the gods blessed my woman with. Tonight, she’s got on a tee that exposes a few inches of her thick waist. A fitted, ruffled skirt highlights a peach of an ass I’d like to bite every inch of and adorn the most gorgeous thighs I’ve ever seen. Good girl that she is, she’s wearing those slightly more reasonable turquoise cowboy boots.

Not that I wouldn’t love to see her in the pink sparkly ones, but I’m thinking those need to be a bedroom adornment.

And now I’m hard.

Someone clears their throat. I glance to the left and chuckle when Bryony and her sister wave at me with knowing looks.

“Beautiful night, ain’t it?” Bryony bats white lashes at me.

I point at the elderly twins. “Do not put me front and center on The Gossip for a third week in a row, ladies. Surely there’s other dramatics going on here tonight that are more interesting than my love life.”

Bryony shrugs and examines her nails. Her sister glances into the arena and sips her drink. “Bye now, Furyon.”

I give the mischievous twins as harsh a look as I can muster before following my girl and Bluebell along the row. Inside the arena, a pixie bull rider goes flying and crashes into the fence, wings crunching as he slides down the slatted side. The bull prances around, head swinging as he looks for the exit. He knows his bit is done, that he’s won again, and there’s likely a bucket of water and some hay in his temporary enclosure away from the din of tonight’s crowd.

When the pixie gets to his feet and grabs his fallen hat, lifting both hands above his head, the crowd shouts for him. It’s his only consolation for gettin’ bucked off before the eight seconds was up.