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“Rodeo, in Smithville, tonight.” He shrugged, smoothing a length of her long golden hair from her forehead. “It’s nothing.”
She covered his hand with hers. “I haven’t been to the rodeo in...a long time. Sounds like fun. We can have our talk tomorrow.”
He laughed, turning his hand under hers and twining their fingers together. “Not exactly how I pictured tonight.”
She stared at him. “You... How did you picture tonight?”
He swallowed. “You. Me. Here.” He looked at the bed. “Right here.”
Her cheeks turned an adorable red. “Ryder...stop.” She blew out a long breath. “You...you don’t...” She tried to pull her hand away but he wouldn’t let go. “I think the rodeo is a much better idea—”
“I’m not so sure about that,” he cut her off.
She rolled her eyes. “Well, I am.” She tugged at her hand, sighing in frustration.
“Ouch,” he murmured, reluctantly letting her hand slide from his.
“So, I’ll find something to wear. And you can call whoever—” Annabeth stopped, staring at the phone. She closed her eyes, shaking her head. “Oh... Or would you rather I didn’t go?”
“I’m only going ’cause you’re making me, remember?” He stood, staring down at her. “So what’s that about?”
She had a hard time holding his gaze. “I... I don’t know much about your rodeo world...or if there’s someone special. You know—a buckle bunny you’ve got a soft spot for?”
“Annabeth Boone.” His voice was low. “After we go to the rodeo, would you go dancing with me? If memory serves, you loved to dance.”
She hesitated, barely suppressing her excitement. “Are you sure?”
His hand slid through her hair, silk against his work-roughened fingers. “I’m sure. You’re my wife and I’m fine with everyone knowing it.” More than that, he wanted people to know it. He couldn’t think of anything else he’d rather do—other than keeping her in bed all night.
“Then I’ll get dressed,” she said, pushing him out her bedroom door. “You could use another shower, cowboy.”
“The bulls don’t care,” he argued.
“Well, I do,” she sassed, her brows arching.
He knew that. And respected it. “Then I’ll head to the apartment to get ready.” He paused. “And I’ll pack a bag?”
She blushed again, nodding, and so pretty he couldn’t help himself. He leaned in, kissing her before she could argue. It was a soft kiss, a quick kiss, and not nearly enough to satisfy him.
Chapter Nine
Sitting in the stands, bundled in Ryder’s thick Carhartt jacket, was easy. Watching Ryder flail around on the back of a bull that looked like evil with horns was not. She knew he rode bulls, and she’d seen him do it before. But they’d been young and death hadn’t devastated her world. Now that it had, those eight seconds were the longest of her life. Reassuring herself over and over that Ryder was the most physically fit and capable man she’d ever known helped. At the same time, she knew he had no real control over the bull. All he could do was hold on.
When he jumped free, he dusted his brown Stetson on his thigh and sauntered to the gate. Annabeth jumped up, petrified. Apparently he didn’t notice the thousand-pound bull circling the arena. But she did. It was only after he was safe behind the metal gate that she could swallow the lump of terror in her throat.
“You okay?” the woman beside her asked, bouncing her sleeping baby on her knee.
Annabeth realized she was standing up, making a spectacle out of herself. “Fine. Guess I got a little carried away.” She started making her way from the stands. “Sorry,” she murmured, careful not to step on anyone’s purse, drink, or child.
When she was standing on the platform, the reality of the day hit her. She was here, watching her husband, the father of the baby she carried, ride a bull. A bull. She was angry and relieved and so confused she could hardly see straigh
t. Not that she had any right to be so mad—she’d been the one who’d forced him to ride. What was wrong with her? Why was she such a mess? Why did watching him tonight terrify her so? He was fine. Now she could relax. And when Ryder made his way onto the platform, making his way through handshakes and claps on the back, she couldn’t decide whether to kiss him or leave.
His blue eyes found her and time seemed to stop. His cheeks were tinged with a ruddy flush. He moved with a sense of confidence. And the look on his face, the pure satisfaction, unlocked something deep inside her. He was so damn handsome, demanding her attention, her body’s response, it worried her. Ryder would never be controlled—he wasn’t built that way. It would be better if she kept him at a distance, smarter. But she didn’t want to.
His expression shifted. His gaze swept her from her boot-clad feet to the headband she’d slipped on before they left. By the time he stood before her, the look in his eyes had her heart pounding a mile a minute. He stopped inches from her, the muscles of his jaw taut.
She wanted to wrap her arms around him, but said instead, “That was some ride.”
