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Darla jerked her attention to Blake and stood up, happy for the escape. A few seconds later, she was on the stage with a microphone in hand.
“We hear you’re going to ride this here cow today,” Blake joked, patting the mechanical bull’s backside.
Darla grinned. “I hear you’re going to ride this here cow.” She patted the metal as he had.
“Oh, no,” he said. “You aren’t using me to get out of this.” He held a hand up to the audience. “Is she folks?” Shouts and cheers followed.
“I’m going to ride because I know how to ride. I hear from a reliable source—” she playfully lowered her voice and whispered into the microphone “—his father, that Blake can’t ride.”
“Thank you, father dearest,” Blake said, waving at Nick in the crowd. “I can always count on you to make me look bad.”
“What are good fathers for?” Nick shouted, to have a roar of laughter follow.
Darla walked up to Blake and gave him a challenging look. “So you can’t ride?”
“Not a mechanical bull,” he said playfully.
The crowd hooted and hollered at that one. Darla looked at the crowd. “Just like a man. Talk big when you can’t deliver.” She grabbed Blake’s hand and slapped the microphone into it and then raised up on her toes to whisper in his ear. “I love you.” Then, before he could respond, she sauntered over to the bull to hop on top.
21
DARLA FINISHED HER BULL RIDE to the cheers of the crowd. She’d been nervous and plenty rusty, but she’d done well enough to suit the audience. Blake was there when she finished, pulling her against him to help her down, and holding her just long enough to whisper into her ear, “I love you, too, and you are too damn sexy for my own good.”
She laughed, enjoying the moment and not letting herself think about the conversation to come later between them. They felt too good, too right. It was going to work out.
Blake raised his microphone and spoke to the crowd. “Darla and I had a bet, ladies and gentlemen. If she got on that bull and conquered it, which I think we all agree she did, I vowed to personally donate to the charity of her choice. And I’m a man of my word. So, Darla, which charity do you want me to send a ten thousand dollar donation to?”
Darla gaped and spoke to him, not the crowd. “Blake. That’s a huge figure. Are you sure?”
“I donate a certain amount of my earnings every year. This time you get to pick where.” He spoke into the microphone again. “And your charity is?”
She covered the microphone with her hand. “My parents’ animal shelter. Is that okay?”
“Sure it is. What’s the name?”
She paused and then spoke into the microphone. “Colorado Angel Rescue.”
“Ten thousand dollars to Colorado Angel Rescue,” he agreed.
Darla reached for the microphone, her hand folding over his. She spoke to the entire room, but looked at him. “Thank you. Really. Thank you so much. It’s a great place that does a lot of good for a lot of animals.” She held back her tears. She tore her gaze from Blake’s, needing to be out of the spotlight before she made a spectacle of herself—and him. She waved at the crowd and headed for the exit.
* * *
BLAKE WATCHED DARLA DASH AWAY from him and knew she was upset, though he had no idea why. The one thing he did know, though, was that he wasn’t about to risk her taking off before he could get to her. He quickly announced the next bull rider and headed to the sidelines, where his father was waiting on him.
“I’ll take over,” his father said, leaning in close to add softly, “I’d gamble on her parents being in some kind of financial trouble and she must not have the means yet to take care of them. I think your donation hit a tender spot, son.” His father patted him on the back and headed toward the center ring.
Blake stood there for an instant, shell-shocked as everything came together for him. Darla’s desperation to make the show work. Her declaration about taking care of her parents. Her self-diagnosed irrational worry over losing both jobs. Damn it to hell, if he hadn’t been so busy looking for Lara in Darla, maybe he would have seen Darla for the great person she truly was.
Blake sprinted through the lobby, heading toward the elevators, impatient to get to Darla’s room before she could escape. By the time he was at her door knocking, his heart was in his throat. She either didn’t answer or wouldn’t answer. Or maybe she wasn’t even in her room. She might have left or never really checked in. He pressed his hands and his head against the door, digging out his cell phone to call her.
