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He didn’t get the loan.
Punch.
He was going to lose out on the farm he wanted to buy at auction.
Punch.
He was closing in on thirty and his bull-riding days were numbered.
Punch.
He had no savings.
Punch.
If he had stayed on his uncle’s farm, he’d be a foreman right now and making decent money.
Punch.
His horse was suffering.
Punch.
He had nothing to offer a woman like LeAnn.
Punch.
He took a breather, hands on his hips while he paced around the area. LeAnn was working on her reps and concentrating on them, so he was able to watch her without making her self-conscious. Shit, another thing in his life he couldn’t have. Dylan shook his head, trying to clear it, and went back to the bag.
What was it about her that had him thinking he could be less of a disappointment in a relationship? How about everything? She was smart, pretty, and a hell of an athlete. It was easy to admire her courage, not so easy watching her determination to ride a bull and risk getting hurt.
“Did it insult your mama?” LeAnn said, when he stopped to catch his breath.
“Huh?”
“You were going at it so hard, I figured it had said something out of line.”
Wiping the sweat off his forehead with a towel, he said, “Just had some bad news, that’s all.”
“Anything I can do to help?” she asked, concern etched on her lovely face.
“Nothing I can’t handle.”
“That’s not what I asked.”
He smiled at her. “No, but thank you.”
“Why don’t we go grab some lunch and talk about it?” LeAnn asked.
“Are you trying to get out of cardio?”
“You seem like you’re too tuckered out to hit the elliptical.”
Dylan wasn’t buying her innocent look. “I’ll tell you what. The last one that gets to the three mile marker buys lunch,” he said, jumping onto the machine.
“That’s not fair,” she cried, clambering up on the machine next to him. “You’ve got longer legs.”
“Then you better move faster,” he said, starting the machine.
