Page 10 of Hooking Up

“I’m ready.”

*

Fucking hell, how was Quint going to concentrate when Bella stood off to the side watching the roping event?

Quint caught Bella’s gaze and offered her a tip of his hat. She returned it with a saucy flick of her own that made his chest tight. What was her allure? She was beautiful, sure, but he’d seen plenty of pretty girls over the years. Her confidence was definitely sexy, but then again, he’d been around enough rodeo ladies to have seen this trait by the barrelful.

Something about those big gray eyes tugged at a man’s innards and drew him closer.

Carter made a move beside him and when Quint looked over, he saw his partner was also tipping his hat to Bella.

Son of a bitch.

They’d never argued over a woman, but there was still plenty of time.

Quint nudged Carter with his elbow. His partner elbowed him right back—in the ribs. Hard.

“What the fuck’s your problem, Fallon?”

“What’s yours,Lopez?”

They glared at each other. When Quint broke the staring contest and returned his attention to the sidelines, Bella was gone.

If given the choice, who would she pick? Carter got his share of female attention. Quint supposed the jackass had all the things a woman wanted in the looks department. But hell, people sometimes asked if they were brothers. With their darkhair, they could be. But Quint was pretty sure he had more in muscle.

And he was definitely packing more heat in his Wranglers. No question.

He faced the arena again, fuming. “If you fuck this up for us tonight because you’re distracted, I’m going to personally rearrange your teeth.”

“I won’t fuck it up. I’m more worried about you. Getting your rope knotted over a woman who won’t give you the time of day?”

“Fallon-Lopez. You’re in the pipeline.” The crusty cowboy’s announcement broke up their argument—for the time being. Quint mounted and looked at his partner in the same way he’d been doing for the past six years they’d competed together. When it came to Bella, may the best man win. But when it came to rodeo’ing, they were a team.

Seated on his horse with Carter several feet away on his own and a calf in its holding pen between them, Quint began to count backward in his mind. He’d always counted down and felt his thoughts click into place like the tumblers on a lock.Tick, tick, tickuntil everything aligned.

The buzzer sounded. His horse, well-trained and ready for the bag of hot oats he got as a treat after every ride, lunged out. The calf shot between him and Carter.

Carter threw his lasso and roped it across the horns with a precision born of years of experience. Quint released his rope at nearly the same time. The calf was pulled up between them, and the crowd cheered.

“Five. That felt like five seconds,” Carter called to him.

He gave a hasty nod as they released their lassos and someone came out to free the calf. Quint brought his horse around to Carter’s. They shared a grin and left the arena as their score of four-point-nine-seconds was announced.

Fist-punching the air, Quint scanned the sidelines and saw her—Bella balanced on the rails of a chute talking to Jeb Anderson. Not even giving him—or even Carter—a glance.

Tightening his lips, Quint tried not to feel as if she’d just punched him in the gut. He and his partner had just brought in one of the best scores of their careers.

And a lot of weight it carried with a woman like Bella. Whatdidget her weak in the knees? He was damn well going to find out and make the most of it.

Chapter Three

Bella navigated her truck and trailer into the rest stop and parked it between two other combos. After cutting the engine, she took a minute to check her cell. Usually her parents called while she drove and she was able to have long conversations through speakerphone, but she’d just gone six hours without a peep from them.

No texts either, so she shot one off to both parents, letting them know she was stopped just outside of Texas and on her way to Alabama for her next competition.

Times like these, she wished she was part of a team event. Traveling in pairs would be so much more interesting. The long, tedious drives alone with nobody to break the monotony wore on her after a while.

She climbed out and received a hoot for her trouble. Glaring at the offending cowboy, she tested her stiff legs to see if they’d support her. “Fuck off, Rigby,” she called back.

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