Page 88 of Cowboy Devil's Embrace

“Yeah. Let’s do it.”

CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE-PENELOPE

Meeting Max’s family right before he was about to get on the back of a bucking bronco was probably not ideal. I’d just shaken hands with Stephanie, his cousin Avail’s heavily pregnant wife, when they called his name.

I jumped up so hard, I knocked my entire forty ounce soda cup all over Avery, who’d been sitting in front of me in the stands.

Lucky for me, Avery always had spare clothes in her car.

I watched Rosie, who was playing with Avail and Stephanie’s twins, while Avery went to change.

I couldn’t blame her. The soda was sticky and cold, and today it had been chillier than the last few weekends.

“There he goes!” Avail said and pointed to the circle.

The entire arena seemed to fall silent, but I knew that was only inside my head. The Devil Max had given me was alert, aware, and entirely focused on my mate.

He looked so good.

A true Jersey boy, but decked out in tight denim, cowhide chaps on top of them, broken in boots, a blue, long-sleeved shirt, and his hat sitting atop his head.

He looked gorgeous. And his ride was going to be amazing.

The bronc they gave him was snorting angrily, dust punched up from the ground every time the enormous, powerful animal moved. It was a thing of beauty.

Pure, animalistic energy vibrated through the air.

I almost felt bad for the horse. Unleashed and wild, he was fierce.

But so was my Max. I overheard a couple of women in the stands gush over how good looking he was, and I had to work hard to control my Devil.

This was neither the time nor the place to have a jealous fit.

Besides, there was no need. Max was mine.

Mine,echoed my she-Devil.

I knew all about keeping the supernatural world a secret, and the Crew had told me how they wouldn’t be pulling first place in every event just because it would look suspicious.

Not that it would be easy to do that. Cowboying was hard work, and even though I was born in an area of New Jersey where we embraced cowboy culture, I knew fuck all about it.

But some of the Crew were seasoned cowboys and with their supernatural strength and reflexes it would be harder to lose.

Max was completely green, though. A real city boy.

“Ooh, that looked painful,” Stephanie squeaked as the bronc bucked and twisted, making Max turn his back in a way that did not look humanly possible.

I clapped my hands together, jumping up and down in the stands. My heart was working so hard, and I forgot to breathe a time or two.

It was a wonder I didn’t pass out.

I bit my lip and squealed as he made his ride. It was only eight seconds. But it felt like years by the time the buzzer sounded.

He’d hung on.

Max had hung on!

“YASSSSSSSSS!”

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