Page 17 of Loving Justice

The question seemed to needle under her skin. She couldn’t tell him that she’d been involved in a forbidden romance with her daddy’s worst enemy. What would Jinx think of her? She couldn’t trust anyone with the information.

“I’m happily in love with being single,” she said sharply.

Chapter Five

Jinx had been watching Downs. He’d noticed the man the second he’d walked into Mav’s like a panther looking for his prey.

The sneaky son-of-a-gun had cornered Justice and Jinx’s gut twisted. The only thing he knew to do was help her out of the uncomfortable situation.

Now he was holding her on the dance floor hoping his body didn’t embarrass him.

Laughter sounded from the vicinity of the mechanical bull. “The bull’s a big hit.”

“It would seem so. Have you ridden it yet?” There was a glint of challenge in her bright eyes.

“Nah., I thought I’d let the crew enjoy themselves.”

Her eyes sparkled. “Are you up for a friendly challenge, cowboy?”

That sparked his interest. “What are you thinking?”

“If you can stay on the bull the entire time I’ll buy you a drink. If you fall off, you’ll pay for the round.” Her smile was as seductive as that look in her eye.

He shrugged. “How about we up the ante? We both ride. Whoever falls off first pays.”

“You’re on.”

They pushed through the circle of people who had gathered to watch the crew take turns riding the bull. “Cowboys first,” Justice told him.

Whistles and hollers rang out as Jinx pulled on leather gloves. He’d never been on a mechanical bull, but he’d ridden enough beasts during his lifetime. He guessed this should be an easy win, but he also didn’t want to count Justice out. She was feisty enough to give him a run for his money.

He swung himself into the saddle, hooked his fist around the reins, and lifted his arm.

“Good luck, Jinx!” Lanah waved dramatically from the semi-circle of onlookers.

Justice watched the exchange with a narrowed gaze.

Jinx cleared his mind, gave a thumbs-up signal, and the machine shifted into movement. He planted his feet firmly in the stirrups and gripped the bull with his legs. He expected the movements, allowing his body to be flexible and balanced.

The whistle blew, announcing the end of the eight seconds.

Hoots and hollers sounded from the crowd as he slid out of the saddle.

He walked over to Justice, handing her his gloves. “Good luck,” he said.

“It’s not about luck, cowboy. It’s all about skill.” She donned the gloves.

A few of the crew overheard the exchange and elbowed him in jest.

The crowd clapped and whistled as she climbed onto the bull, looking comfortable and in great form. Something told him she’d done this a time or two. Had he been played?

Hell, he didn’t mind. He enjoyed watching her.

And so did the crowd because when her time ended with her remaining in the saddle, the crowd raised the roof in cheer. She sashayed in his direction, wearing a sweet, tormenting smile. “Your turn, cowboy.”

More people had gathered to watch, picking their sides.

After several more rounds, with the speed increasing and the turns becoming more abrupt, Jinx suggested, “We can just walk, and I’ll buy the next round.”

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