Page 4

If the Clarks were a big part of my childhood, Chace was probably just as big. He's my brother Eli's best friend. From what I've gathered over the years, his home life wasn't much to speak of before living with his Nana, which is probably why he spent more nights at our dinner table than not. My parents and everyone else in this damn town have always found him charming.

Sure, he's charming, but so is a fox right before he raids a coop.

That might be unfair. Chace isn't threatening. He's just a man who doesn't take anything seriously, and I don't have time for anything less than dedication.

As I get closer, his grin gets wider. Like he knows something I don't and has zero intention of telling me. He’s leaning against the gate, easy and unhurried. One boot crossed over the other, like he's got nowhere better to be than sitting here waiting to piss me off.

"Hey there, Dawson." The cockiness rolls off him like heat off asphalt. "Big day for you."

No shit, I think. I've only been preparing for this my entire life. "I don't have time for your shit today, Chace. Why aren't you in the stands?"

"Heading that way. Was checking out the bull lineups, thought I'd stick around and see my favorite ray of sunshine."

He gives me his signature grin. The one that's probably snared a dozen buckle bunnies and twice as many women who should know better. He’s testing me with it, waiting to see if I’ll give him the reaction he wants.

God, he's irritating. "Did Eli send you?" I say, refusing to play his game.

"Nah. He's busy with Hazel." He tips his chin. "A guy can't check on his favorite girl without a permission slip?"

"Whatever.” I roll my eyes. “Why were you in the bullpen? I thought you were done with all that?"

Something flickers across his face, but it’s gone almost as quickly as it appeared. Whatever it was, I know I hit a nerve.

Chace used to ride bulls on the professional circuit. He was good. Really good. Until a bad ride took him out. Now he splits his time between Dawson Ranch and Clark Ranch, doing whatever needs doing. I probably should be more sensitive about the fact that he lost his dream. But he's never acted like he lost anything. Healed, went to PT, moved on like it was nothing.

"I'm never done riding, Sunshine." He winks.

"You’re insufferable." I groan and shove past him, pushing him aside with my shoulder. "Get out of my way."

"You keep up that attitude, and you'll piss off your horse more than he already is. Don't want to get bucked off on your big day."

Dusty huffs beside me like he understood every word.

"Though." Chace tips his head, mouth curving, eyes dropping the length of me unhurried, and then back up. "I've seen you ride mad. All that fight, all that edge." He pauses. "Not my least favorite version of you."

"Fuck off, Chace."

He laughs because I just handed him exactly what he was waiting for. "Yeah," he says, pushing off the rail. "There she is."

"I told you I don't have time for this." This is the bullshit I deal with from this man.

"Relax, Sunshine. I'm not the one you need to worry about riding hard today."

I stare at him. "You’re the most—"

"Go ahead." He grins. "I'm the most amazing, sexiest man you've ever met. I know. Tell me more."

I turn toward the gate before I do something that’ll end my career before it starts. Two steps and I’m through it, Dusty’s lead rope tight in my hand. But his voice follows me anyway.

"Ride clean, Dawson." Then, lower. "Try not to think about me out there. Might throw your time."

I hate that he knows exactly how to get under my skin.

I hate it more that I can't quite kill the smile pulling at my mouth.

God. He's insufferable.

When I swing into the saddle, the warm-up pen is already packed.