Page 152 of Sunrise & Serenity

Thought he retired.

When they realize I’m watching, they look away.

Rick makes his way over, headset hooked around his neck and coffee cup in hand. “There you are. Thought maybe you’d bolted already.”

My laugh doesn’t hold much humor. “Tempting.”

He introduced me to the sponsors of the rider development program yesterday so we could get a feel for each other. I’ve dealt with enough sponsors in my time to know how to play the corporate game, though I can’t say I’ve missed it.

He studies me, a crease between his brows. “Did you sleep at all?”

“Some.” I keep my eyes fixed on the chutes.

“Bullshit.”

Pretty much.

He passes me the cup he was carrying anyway. “Couple people asking if you’re riding tonight.”

“Good way to kill the insurance policy.” I take a sip of the coffee, and my mind conjures an image of Sage and the smile she’d give me whenever I handed her a cup.

“That shoulder still bothering you?” Rick leans on the rail next to me.

I flex it absently beneath my jacket. “Only when I breathe.”

He gives a short laugh, but his expression stays sharp. He knows me well enough to hear what I’m not saying.

Across the arena, several women near the rail are watching us. One of them flashes a bright smile and waves. I tip my hat in acknowledgment, and even from here, I can hear the resulting giggles.

“Still got it.” He smirks. “How much do you want to wager that at least one of them has your poster on her wall?”

I roll my eyes. “Shut up.”

He focuses on something past me and jerks his chin. I turn, finding a kid in a black vest and brand-new hat approaching, holding his rope like it might bite him.

“Mr. McBride?”

I straighten. “Holden.”

He nods too fast. “Right. Holden. I was hoping maybe you could look at my wrap before I go up.”

I hand off my now-empty coffee cup to Rick and take the kid’s rope, running it through my hands. Too stiff. Too clean. He probably bought it last week and practiced on a fence post.

“What bull?” I ask him.

“Gravedigger.”

I scan the stock list. “He comes out left, then drops hard on the second jump. If your hand’s too far forward, he’ll pull you over his shoulder.”

The kid swallows. “Right.”

I squint down at him. “Are you nervous?”

He shakes his head vigorously. “No, sir.”

I hold his gaze, waiting him out.

After a moment, he exhales. “Yeah.”