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Chapter Twenty
“LeAnn Keller trying to go eight seconds on Templar.”
Dylan’s head turned to the announcer’s booth so fast, he nearly gave himself whiplash. That wasn’t right. Templar was a men’s bull. He rushed the gate as he took in the whirling, kicking bull that LeAnn was riding like a champ. A part of his mind could admire the skill, but the rest of him was screaming out in terror. That was not her bull. Had there been an error?
It didn’t matter because the woman he loved—who had just told him she loved him—was on two thousand pounds of death. His fingers gripped the railing so tightly, he was surprised he didn’t bend the metal. His mouth was dry, his heart felt like it was going to pound out of his chest. It was like Johnny Montana all over again. He kept waiting for the wreck and for that terrible, powerless moment when he’d be too late to stop the bull from stomping on her. But in eight terrifying seconds, LeAnn had jumped free and was on the ground safe and sound.
“What the actual fuck was that?” Dylan snarled, meeting her at the gate.
“Templar was amazing,” she said, grinning like a loon. “I rode him like a boss.”
He gripped her shoulders. “I can’t believe you were so careless, so stupid. That bull was not meant for you. What happened to the one you picked in the draw?”
“Mick and I switched bulls,” LeAnn said.
Dylan closed his eyes, but that didn’t help. He couldn’t stop the images of Johnny’s broken body morphing into LeAnn’s in his mind. “Templar was not meant to be ridden by a beginner.”
“I’m not a beginner,” she shouted at him.
“Yes, you damned well are,” he shouted back, his eyes flying open. “We’ve been riding bulls for ten years. You’ve been riding them for ten rodeos.”
LeAnn took a step back at the vehemence in his voice.
“That bull was larger, stronger and faster than anything you or any of the other women had ever been on.”
“And yet I still stayed on for eight seconds,” she argued with a vengeance, bumping chests with him.
“You promised me you wouldn’t pull this shit anymore.”
“All I did was swap out my bull for another one—which is my right as a bull rider,” she said.
“You’re supposed to swap bulls from the correct pool of animal athletes, not across divisions. And you know that.”
LeAnn tried to place a placating hand on his arm, but he shrugged her off. “Dylan, I’m fine. And it’s all good. Mick is going to come clean about the bar fight, and he’s going to stop being such a douchebag.”
“What?” Dylan asked.
“Mick and I made a bet. If I could go eight seconds on his bull, he’d set the record straight about the fight, and stop causing trouble for me and the other women riders.”
“And you believed him? You risked your life for that?”
“I rode a bull that challenged me. My life wasn’t at risk.”
“What would you have had to do if you lost?”
“I’d have to admit to Mick and the rest of the bull riders that women couldn’t handle tough bulls.”
Dylan shook his head. “It wasn’t worth the risk.”
“It was,” she insisted. “Besides, he was making noises about you rigging the bulls so that I would win. I had to stop him before we had another internet scandal on our hands.”
“It wasn’t your place to do that. You shouldn’t have done it. It was too dangerous. You’re too reckless. You’re lucky that you weren’t hurt.”
“All bulls are dangerous. I could have gotten injured on any bull. Yes, this one was bigger, stronger, faster, meaner—all of that. But I know how to land, and I’m wearing heavy-duty padding. The bullfighters in that arena are the best in the sport. I know I risked a lot, but I didn’t do it without thought and I didn’t do it just for me. I did it for us.”
Dylan drew in a sharp breath. “I can’t talk to you right now. That’s how angry I am,” he said, backing away from her. “I’m not sure I can do this anymore. I can’t worry that you’re going to pull a Johnny Montana on me.”
“What are you saying? You love me. I love you. We just said that.”
