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“Don’t forget, cowgirl, I can still beat you by a country mile,” Wyatt calls out.
“Ha,” Fallon scoffs, as they race past us. Her laugh is like a knife, sharp and cutting.
“She’s gonna get good enough and whup his ass.” Charlie chuckles and moves to the fence. “Damn,” he says under his breath. “That girl can fly.”
I chance a quick glance his way. His knuckles are bone white as he grips the fence, but pride lights up his expression.
My stomach sinks. I don’t like the way he looks at her or the way I feel. Like I’ve lost something before I even had it. Not like I would win him. Nothing about Charlie Montgomery, especially his eternal scowl and angry grunts, has me thinking I even stand a fighting chance.
“You and Fallon?” I fight to keep the question casual.
He blinks. And then he laughs. A bright gorgeous laugh that has my heart racing. “Christ no. She’s like a little sister. To some of us,” he mutters.
I climb up on the fence to get a better view. “Do you train your guests?”
“We do. We have afternoon sessions where Wyatt offers instruction. But not like this. We don’t want to kill anybody,” he says wryly.
“You’re just open for the summer, then?”
“Yeah.” He moves closer, standing tall beside me. “June through Labor Day. In the fall, when we close for the season, Wyatt runs rodeo clinics here on the ranch for any cowboy dumb enough to take his lessons.”
My gaze flies back to the riders. “Is it dangerous? The rodeo?”
His mouth thins. “It is. Wyatt’s had broken ribs, broken wrists. Once, he got caught in the mouth with a hoof and had his front teeth knocked out.”
I wince at the image. “Sounds like you know rodeos.”
A tight nod. “I used to compete. A long time ago.”
My mind overheats picturing Charlie on the back of a horse. A true cowboy. Solid and strong. With his dark hair, rugged features, and muscles corded like taut wire, the man looks like he was made from the dust and the grit of the rodeo. I wonder why he stopped.
My gaze goes back to the pasture. “Seems like a shame,” I hedge. “To give it up.”
Silence.
Fallon rushes by us, her tattoos lit up in the sun, her long caramel braid whipping the wind, and her face—
My jaw drops.
Holy shit.
Her face.It looks like she’s given in to ecstasy and everything holy.
I want to look like that.I want to feel like that. I press a hand to my heart, wishing it could witness this.
What I yearn for.
The words pop out of my mouth before I can stop them. “I’d love to do that,” I say breathlessly.
Charlie goes tense beside me, telling me I’ve said the wrong thing. The chill coming off him is like an arctic freeze. Instantly, his face darkens. “No, Ruby, you goddamn wouldn’t.”
Then he’s turning away from me and storming back to the barn.
My weary eyes blink back hot, frustrated tears. His abrupt cold shoulder, his sharp tongue hurts.
Stings, in fact.
I can’t win with this cowboy.
