Page 156 of Burn the Wild

Dakota shakes her head. “Thanks, Dad.”

Davis chuckles and lifts his son into the air. “Kid’s gotta live.”

Stede turns to Fallon. Pride shines in his eyes as he takes her hands. “You got this, Fallon. You ride hard and you ride fast.”

Fallon gives him a curt nod. “Yes, Daddy.”

“My girl, my girl, my girl,” booms an unfamiliar, male voice.

Fallon snaps her muscled body into place. Her smile is feline as she turns toward the source of the noise.

A rotund man—looking every bit the part of a wealthy Texas cattleman in his three-piece suit—confers with Fallon. To her left stands a lanky, golden-haired guy, his face shadowed beneath the brim of a cowboy hat. He carries water bottles and Fallon’s gear.

“Who’s that?” I ask, leaning into Ford. The way everyone’s face has gone stormy makes me think they hate the guy.

“Fallon’s entourage. Fat guy is Pappy Starr, her agent.”

I watch, fascinated but worried. Already, he reminds me of Gavin. Power hungry. He’ll shape her, make her, then break her.

“What about the skinny kid?”

“Tripp Hendrix.” We look over at Dakota. She’s smiling. “He’s been in love with her since high school.”

“He’s her water boy,” Wyatt adds, looking none too happy. “Follows her around like a goddamn puppy.”

Davis rolls his eyes, puts a broad hand on his brother’s shoulder. “Easy.”

“Pappy wants Fallon to go big time,” Charlie explains, dark head dipping close. “If she wins today, she could get a sponsorship. She’s the first female who’s ever been this close.”

Turning to Pappy, Dakota crosses her arms, her stance protective. “Is my sister ready?”

Pappy snaps his suspenders. “As ready as ever. I should know. I trained her.”

Dakota’s pretty face darkens. Davis lays a hand on his wife’s shoulder like he’s holding her back.

“Training a woman, Pappy. Never thought I’d see the day.”

Every single eye snaps up at the deep voice. Boots crunch on the dust and dirt. I hear someone whisper, “Hey, that’s him.”

Gasping in surprise, Ruby stands on top of the picnic table bench to see better.

Ford swears. Charlie bristles.

But my jaw drops.

The man looks like a storm sweeping the horizon. Every inch of him screamsbull rider. Broad chest. A sharp square jaw. Large, calloused hands. A large man only made larger by the vest, spurs, chaps and brace. He’s closely followed by his entourage, men who look nowhere near as scrappy as Fallon’s team does.

Ruby grabs my hand. “That’s Cole Weston. He’s Fallon’s competitor.” Charlie gives his wife a proud smile, like she’s a pro at the sport. “He’s the reason for the cameras.”

Fallon opens her mouth, but she’s cut off with a lift of Pappy’s hand.

“Fallon McGraw plans to be your fiercest competitor yet, Weston. Mark my words.”

Nostrils flaring, Fallon grips her vest like she needs to give her fists someplace to still.

Amusement lines Cole’s rugged features. “I highly doubt that.”

I arch a brow at his arrogance.

---