Page 22 of Just Say When

This summer would kick off my last rodeo season asa junior barrel racer. I was at the top of my game. The championship title was mine to defend, and I intended to do exactly that. There would hardly be a weekend I was at home while I traveled to rodeos from Oklahoma and Tennessee to Nevada and Texas. It was exhausting, but it was also exhilarating. A taste of the real life waiting for me.

“One more year,” I promised myself softly.

“And then?” he asked, like he didn’t know.

That was one of the things I loved about Brax. He gave me space to ramble on about my hopes and dreams for my future, no matter how crazy it all sounded. He never tried to temper my enthusiasm with bummer advice likebe realistic, the way Jack would.

“And then world domination, silly. Make a million dollars on the barrel racing circuit. I’ll be the next Charmayne James.”

He glanced at me quickly before returning his eyes to the road. “You’re not going to be the next anyone. You’re going to be the first Essie Price. Little girls will pretend they’re you when they trot their ponies around barrels.”

I meant to say thank you, but the words came out a strangled clump of sounds I doubted he could decipher. If I were the crying sort, my mascara would be black streaks on my cheeks right now. Fortunately, I wasn’t.

I punched him on the shoulder. “Damn straight.”

“Ow!” He rubbed his shoulder, and I immediatelyregretted it because it meant his right hand took the wheel from his left. “You trying to run us off the road, hellion?”

I rolled my eyes. “I didn’t hurt you.”

Inside, I glowed at the nickname he had given me. It wasn’t the kind of thing a boyfriend would call a girlfriend, like baby or sweetheart, and I liked that about it. It meant he wasn’t going to use it on someone else someday. It was all mine.

He grinned. “Nah, you didn’t hurt me. Just wanted to offer you a little encouragement. It’s tough throwing punches when your hands are so little,” he teased. He placed his right hand on top of my left, engulfing it in his.

I stared at our hands. My hands were a perfectly normal size, thank you very much, but I couldn’t deny they were a lot smaller than his. And even though they were calloused from years of riding, they didn’t have his strength, either.

“Jerk,” I said.

But I left our hands where they were.

9

Brax

Adam:

James said she’s heading out to celebrate Pirate’s win. You’re going too, right?

Brax:

Wasn’t planning on it. Zack and Essie will be there, though.

Adam:

Yeah, that’s the part that worries me. They needadult supervision.

Mistakes had been made.

The first mistake was making the drive to Pueblo for Pirate’s first show to begin with. I should have sat this one out like I’d told Essie I would. But dammit, that horse had loped his way into my affection. I wanted to be there in case anything went wrong—even though I knew he was in good hands with Essie and James.

Maybe if I had considered that being there for Pirate meant spending hours at a time within arm’s length of Essie, I would have reconsidered. Maybe if I had understood that every sound she made would remind me of the way she moaned as I touched her in the grocery store, I would have stayed the fuck home.

But I really wanted to see Pirate win.

Which he had, and that blue ribbon led to mistake number two: letting Adam talk me into going out to celebrate instead of driving straight back to Aspen Springs. Because goddammit, Essie was wearing those light wash Wranglers that cupped her sweet ass to perfection, and a tee shirt that hung off one shoulder to reveal a red lacy strap of something. A camisole? Her bra? I would have given my right pinky finger to find out.

And all of those mistakes culminated with thebiggest one of all: not throwing Essie over my shoulder and getting her the hell out of there the second I realized the bar had a mechanical bull. Because I knew without a shadow of a doubt that Essie was going to ride that fucker before the night was over.

And I was going to have to watch her do it.

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