Page 5 of Hooking Up

“Crap on toast.” As quickly as possible, she navigated the maze of passages through the building. She had to get her head on straight before her event. There wasn’t a man on the planet—let alone two—who could shake her from winning Henderson, Texas.

She brushed the loosened tendril of hair off her face and hurried deeper into the space where her horse was housed. What she needed was to find her center. Only Josey Wheels could do that for her. She needed a quiet moment with her animal, and she’d be fine.

Or not.

Her hands still trembled and she could practically feel the men’s touch. Usually she reveled in leading a cowboy on, especially the cocky ones. She’d allowed Jeb to buy her that drink—a tall sweet tea—but after finishing the last drop, she’d thanked him and walked away. Knowing he was watching her leave gave her a little thrill.

Call it sick, but she liked the cat and mouse act. So what if guys wanted her? She was more than a firm body in tight-fitting jeans. She was toughened by years of training. She’d spent summers away from her family, learning how to lean only on herself, dealing with mean girls and guys like Frazer…

Fuck, how had that asshole wormed his way into her head again? She gave him a boot up the ass and rushed down the line of stalls to the one housing Josey Wheels. As soon as her horse heard her step, she gave a whinny that at once comforted and thrilled.

She reached up and encircled the horse’s neck with her arms. Leaning her forehead against the furred one, she whispered, “We’re going to be okay, girl. I’m ready. Are you?”

She hadn’t given Carter a straightnoabout the steak dinner. The idea of sitting across from a man like him, so virile and commanding, made her panties start to steam. But knowing that Quint’s touch affected her the same way only troubled her further.

Maybe she was just horny. She’d have to take care of that, but not with a rodeo guy. She didn’t want rumors to start flying that she was easy or available. Then she’d never get any rest from the men knocking on her trailer door.

No, she’d have to find some random Joe before she pulled out of town—with that shiny new win on her belt, of course. Slaking her lust with a one-night stand would surely exorcise the ghost touch of team ropers Fallon and Lopez.

Damn if she couldn’t recall each and every spot they’d touched her, though. Spine, nape, hip, palm. A shiver that was all icy-heat ran through her, and she bit her lip to stop a small noise from escaping.

Just how close were the pair? Did they know each other had cornered her on the same day and kissed her? Or were there secrets separating them?

Either way, she wasn’t about to find out.Not my bulls, not my rodeo.

Chapter Two

“Carter Fallon.” The twangy drawl was one Carter knew all too well, and it also made his stomach crawl. Tammy Hope was the worst kind of Buckle Bunny—she was a Buckle Bunny with a video camera.

He continued to work the soap into his rope, letting the stickiness sink into the fibers so he could get a good grip. As “header” in the team roping competition, it was his job to lasso the escaped cow around the head while Quint secured its back legs. All this magic happened in as few seconds as they possibly could manage.

“How’s my favorite header?” Tammy held the camera up to catch his reaction. Sometimes her video clips got onto ESPN highlights, which only fueled her fire. She fancied herself the Diane Sawyer of the rodeo.

“I’m not sure who your favorite header is, Tammy, butI’mdoin’ just fine.” He tested the rope, found it not quite to his standards and added more soap.

She dissolved into high-pitched giggles, her long blonde ringlets floating around her face. If she stopped playing Barbie doll, she might not be half bad-looking. Between too many rhinestones and the blue eyeshadow up to her perfect brows, she was far from his type.

In this game, he’d learned early on who to mess with and who not to. Actually, he hadn’t been interested in any of the women fans they called Buckle Bunnies, but Quint had messed with a few.

The corner of his lips tipped up at the idea of sic’ing Tammy on his partner. She loomed closer.

“Are you zooming in on my face?”

“You have the sexiest smile, Carter Fallon. Let your fans see it.”

“This is my best side.” He turned his jaw the other direction and continued to work his rope. The sticky residue on his gloves would work perfectly smeared across Tammy’s camera lens.

“Why don’t you answer some questions for me?” she asked, extending one thin leg showcased in a miniskirt. He suspected she was only so thin because she believed men wanted a woman like that. Maybe some did, but not him.

“Fine.” He pushed out a sigh, resigned to long minutes of his life eaten away by her interview questions.

“Great!” She bounced on her toes a moment before settling down to business. “So Team Fallon-Lopez is really ‘on’ this season. How do you see yourself performing tonight?”

“Same as always, I suspect. With a lotta luck and a pinch of skill.”

She chortled. As usual. So tiresome.

Get on with it.

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