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Mick had been more than happy to take up the slack, and he and LeAnn had been on again off again ever since. Mostly off again, because she was saving herself for marriage, and Mick thought that was a stupid idea.
“Good luck out there,” she managed to say as Dylan dusted his hands off on his leather chaps.
“Don’t need luck,” he said. “I’ve got skill.”
“Yeah,” she said, feeling more confident. “Me too.”
“Give ’em hell today.” Dylan smiled at her, and she wished he had been around last night. She might have drunk less and danced more.
She sat in the stands to watch him ride. He stayed on for eight seconds. Mick did not. That would put him in a hell of a mood tonight. It would serve Debbi Peterson right to have to deal with him sulking about losing at the after-party the rodeo was sponsoring. While Mick cried in his beer, LeAnn would be modeling her gold belt buckle for everyone to see.
And if she was lucky, maybe Dylan Porter would come up to her afterwards and ask her to dance.
*
She lost.
LeAnn blinked back tears as she put Garth back into the barn for the night. Her body went through the motions of brushing and taking care of him. Inside though, she was sobbing like a little girl. She’d not only lost, she’d also gotten her ass handed to her. She didn’t even place in the top three.
Merry took first. She took it all. Merry had won every event and not only took home the first women’s bronc-busting gold belt buckle, she took home the all-around trophy, and fifty thousand dollars too.
LeAnn would be taking home a bunch of outstanding bills and a few “I told you so’s” from her parents. Wiping tears away with the back of her hand, she finished with Garth and left the barn before her sisters—or worse, her parents—could come looking for her. She couldn’t bear to attend the after-party and there was no way in hell she was going back to the Winnebago.
She drove her truck to a local bar instead and ordered up a tequila sunrise. It felt good going down, so she ordered another one, and another, until she no longer felt like crying. In fact, after three of them, all she felt was a nice, dazed buzz that made her forget her failure and disappointment.
A little voice in her head told her that she had only herself to blame. But she shoved that voice down deep and picked up a pool cue. She might not know how to ride a bronc, but she knew how to shoot a combo.
The next few hours passed in a blur. LeAnn wasn’t sure when Mick showed up or why, but suddenly he was there, and just as quickly, she was riding in his truck with him. Then, flash forward, they were making out in the parking lot in front of the honky-tonk where the rodeo had the after-party. LeAnn was confused, but she decided to go with the flow. It was a celebration after all, right? Although, she wasn’t sure why she was celebrating.
Mick’s hands started getting more aggressive and warning bells sounded in the back of her head. But they were faint and far away. However, before things progressed any further, Debbi opened the truck door and pulled LeAnn out by her hair.
“Man-stealing bitch,” Debbi snarled and threw a wild punch.
Even as drunk as LeAnn was, she dodged it and swayed when Mick grabbed Debbi and dragged her away.
“Bye!” LeAnn waved and slumped against Mick’s truck.
What the hell was she doing?
Sliding down to the ground, LeAnn held her head and let go with the tears she had tried to wall up. It was an ugly, snotty cry and she hoped that no one was filming this on their phone. But then again, why would they? She was a loser. No one cared for the sixth-place rider, even if it was on a bronc in an event that never had a woman’s champion before now.
“Are you all right, honey?” A man crouched down next to her.
Looking up, she saw Merry Grayson’s face. Wait…how? Realization hit her and she staggered to her feet. The man was wearing a T-shirt that had Merry’s smiling face on it. Just what she didn’t need.
“I’m fine.” LeAnn sidled away from the nightmare shirt. She wanted to punch Merry’s perfect teeth out. And that wasn’t fair. Merry hadn’t done anything but ride better today. And the man wearing the T-shirt just had bad fashion sense.
“Can I call someone for you?” he asked.
“No.” LeAnn put her hand up to shield herself from seeing Merry grinning at her. “I know I fucked up today.”
“I’m sorry,” the man said.
“You don’t have to rub it in, Merry.”
“Merry?” the man looked confused. “Oh, my T-shirt. Yeah, I’m a big fan of hers.”
“Jackass,” LeAnn snorted.
