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She also felt ready to discuss her ideas with her father. Deep down she knew he’d support whatever she wanted to do. Being in Colorado gave her time to think it through and realize it was ridiculous believing otherwise.
Each day, Bullet became a better bull rider. Without the distraction of everyday life, his focus was intense. Buck was an intuitive trainer and managed to pick up on Bullet’s areas of weakness, and get him to work straight through them. Depending on how much time Flying R gave him to compete, it was conceivable that he could earn enough to make regional finals this year. Buck believed he could go further than that.
Neither talked about when they’d see each other after they left the ranch. The rodeo season would be fully underway inside of a month, and they’d both be busy traveling the circuit. And when they weren’t, they each had a lot of work to do. He, with Flying R, and her, with Lost Cowboy and her new venture.
Tristan rested her eyes on his now sleeping form. They’d worn each other out, making love every chance they got. It was as though they could never get enough of each other’s bodies. When they came together after spending their days apart, their need for each other was frantic.
It was more than that for her, though. Bullet had intrigued her from the moment she’d met him in Liv and Ben’s hot tub. On one hand, he was the epitome of a bull rider—arrogant, cock-sure of himself, and an experienced handler of ladies. Tristan wondered now, how much of that was for show.
Conversely, he’d treated her with respect. He cared as much about what she’d done with her day as he did about his. He asked to see her designs and talked to her about them. He’d tell her about
his time with Buck, but never once monopolized their conversations.
He was nothing like Harris Jones. Nothing at all. The way Harris treated her was intentional—premeditated even. He’d falsely declared his love for her all the while knowing that, tomorrow, he’d be in someone else’s bed, likely making the same declaration. Bullet gave her no empty promises, no professions of love, and she was glad he hadn’t. It would’ve been difficult for her to believe that he could fall in love with her after only a week, even though she knew she’d fallen in love with him.
Tristan was sitting up in bed, her back to him. If he had the ability to read her mind, he wouldn’t allow himself to. Bullet knew what she was thinking, and it made him mad. Furious, in fact. But not at her, at himself. She hadn’t said one word about seeing him again once their week was over. Nothing at all.
He’d stupidly believed he was winning her over, but instead, he felt like a nick in her bedpost. The irony would make him laugh if his gut wasn’t burning.
How many women had he done this to? Sure he’d tell them they’d see each other again real soon. Meanwhile, he’d already forgotten their name. A week with any one woman would’ve been unheard of, except for Callie. He’d spent more than a week with her, but even then, it wasn’t just her he was with. He’d never thought he’d be able to commit himself to only one woman. Until now.
Tristan didn’t come right out and say it, but he sensed she was biding her time. Once he delivered her to the airport and she was safely on the plane, she’d breathe a sigh of relief that she’d dodged him. This time he was the bullet, not her.
The question now was how would their final day together play out? When he leaned over and trailed kisses down her spine, he was rewarded with a heated smile that told him she wanted to spend their last few hours at the ranch in the same way he did.
He should be the happiest man on earth. He was riding better than ever, and Buck Bishop told him he’d called Bill Patterson and said Bullet worked harder than any other rider he’d trained. He went on to tell him how proud Flying R Rough Stock should be to sponsor him, and his prediction that he’d be their top rider this year.
Instead of walking on air, he was downright miserable. Tristan had been at breakfast when Buck came in to report on the phone call. She was happy for him, smiling from ear to ear, congratulating him, even gave him a big hug and kiss.
But the two things he wanted to hear her say, she never said. Despite telling him how happy she was for him, there was no mention of either a Lost Cowboy sponsorship, or any talk of when they’d see each other again.
He thought about bringing one or both up on the way to the airport, but he stopped himself. He already felt like a fool, no need to make himself look more pathetic.
He walked her to the jetway, and waited, holding his breath, wishing she’d say something, anything, about when they’d see each other again, but she didn’t.
His mood only worsened after her plane took off. When a fella decided to tailgate him on the highway, Bullet slammed on the brakes and sent a slew of curse words in the driver’s direction that would make a hard-core rocker blush. When he stopped to fill his gas tank and get a snack, the flirty cashier only annoyed him. Instead of wishing her a nice day too, he snarled, grunted, and walked back to his truck.
His attitude sucked, and he knew it. He spent the rest of the drive, reining himself in so he didn’t insult the people who had worked so hard to help make his dream come true.
Sure, Tristan McCullough had broken his heart, but no one needed to know that.
As much as she tried not to, Tristan missed Bullet. She’d been home several days, and no matter how hard she worked, she couldn’t fend off the distraction that came when her mind drifted to something he’d said, or they’d done.
Bullet had an unexpected way of looking at life. He often surprised her with his views on a variety of subjects. Sometimes he’d play dumb, but if she pushed the conversation, his acumen would show through.
He’d been the first to predict her father already knew what she was up to, in developing a new clothing line, and he’d been right. Her grandfather told her that his son had been sneaking peeks at her designs for weeks. When she confronted him about it, he scowled, and wouldn’t own up to his espionage.
Her weekly, sometimes daily, phone calls with Liv resumed when she returned from the ranch. While she would admit the role she’d played in suggesting Tristan’s father send her there for some much-needed time off, she insisted she had no idea Bullet Simmons was going to be there at the same time.
Liv pressed her on when she’d be back in Crested Butte, and how plans were coming for the new line. Tristan told Liv her father would be happy to support her new venture with seed money, but he thought it best if she developed the brand separate from Lost Cowboy, which led Liv to suggest a meeting of potential investors.
“You could hold an informational meeting in Black Forest and invite the women I already know are interested in investing. Depending on what you’re looking for, we could open it outside of our Flying R circle as well.”
Tristan’s gut clenched. If she showed up in Black Forest, Bullet would believe for certain that she’d arranged the meeting with the ulterior motive of seeing him. She couldn’t do that to him, or to herself. It would be mortifying if he ignored her in front of everyone.
“I think Crested Butte would work better.”
Liv held firm, saying the reason she’d suggested Black Forest was because most of the key players lived there or close by. “It will be easier on everyone if we meet there. I’ll have to travel, and so will you, but everyone else is based there.”
