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“Boyfriend it is,” he said. “And I’m proud to be your man.”
“I like the sound of that,” LeAnn said, breathless. Getting up from the booth, she shimmied in next to him on the other side. “Now we need to kiss to seal the deal.”
“Do we?” he said, dipping his head to hers. “Oh well, if I must.”
The kiss was sweet and too short, but he was amused that LeAnn didn’t let herself get distracted. “Let’s talk about the bulls I’m going to ride tomorrow.”
Chapter Thirteen
Fort Worth, TX—May
She didn’t go eight seconds. Not once during the exhibition. On her last ride, she hit the ground hard, gasping for air. The whole crowd was silent as they waited to see if she would get up. Finally, she staggered to her feet, humiliated but unhurt.
Dylan approached her after she got out of the arena, his eyes filled with concern. She must look as dejected as she felt. “Are you okay?” he asked softly.
LeAnn shook her head wearily. “I don’t know,” she admitted. “I thought I was getting better, but I guess not.”
Dylan put an arm around her shoulders comfortingly. “It’s okay,” he said gently. “You’ll go eight seconds next time.”
LeAnn wanted to believe him, but she wasn’t sure if she could face another failure in front of all these people, in front of the other athletes. She leaned into the hug, glad that she was entitled to it now that they were official. Dylan steered her into the equipment shed so that they were away from prying eyes.
She clung to him, burying her face into his soft cotton shirt. His spicy aftershave tickled her nose and the slow circles he was rubbing on her lower back soothed some of the pain.
“This is nice,” she muttered, content to be held.
“I know you don’t believe me, but you’re improving.”
Giving an unladylike snort, LeAnn said, “Callie went the full eight seconds. So did Muriel and Kim.”
“So will you,” he said. “You’ll do it when it counts.”
“Are you sure about that?” she asked, raising her head.
“Positive.” He smiled down at her.
“Thank you,” she said, closing her eyes.
“For what?”
“It was getting to me. Not meeting the crowd’s expectations. Not meeting my parents’ expectations. But most of all, falling short of my own goals. You have a way of making me feel better, just by being here.”
“Glad to help.” He brushed a kiss on her nose.
She leaned up and kissed him before he could get too far away. Wrapping her arms around his neck, she let her mouth slowly move over his. Dylan held her close, and she loved how her body fit against his. Moving restlessly against him, she wished they were back in the RV or in a hotel room. But before it could get too heated and she gave in to the temptation to start unbuckling and unbuttoning, she reluctantly broke off the kiss.
“Damn, that was nice,” he said, rubbing his thumb over her puffy lower lip.
She wanted to bite it in frustration, but she behaved herself. They could play around a bit after the rodeo. Right now, she had another event to compete in. And this one, she would win.
“I’m going to get ready for barrel racing,” LeAnn said reluctantly stepping away from him.
“Okay,” he said. “I’ll see you after.” Dylan pulled her in for another quick hug. “Go get ’em, Killer.” He stayed with the bulls while she made her way to the other side of the rodeo.
Stiff and feeling bruised, LeAnn went over what had gone wrong in her rides. At least her scores—or non-scores in this case—wouldn’t count against her yet. She hated disappointing the rodeo fans. She also hated that the bulls she had called weak and boring were kicking her ass so hard.
Because she was focused on doing better, she didn’t notice that Mick had caught up to her.
“What do you want?” she groaned. She was not in the mood to hear him bitch about women bull riders.
