Page 28 of Cowboys Can't Kiss

The announcer has the crowd on their feet and I wave to them as I walk over to my horse, standing with Hunter.

“Fucking hell, Jack. You keep getting better and putting all the young pups to shame.”

Laughing, I pull myself back up in Lady’s saddle and pat her neck.

“I’m in the zone, Hunter. I don’t know what it is this year but I feel like we can’t be stopped. I’m winning this season.We’rewinning this season.”

It’s only our third event this year, but I’ve never done better. I feel like a superhero. No steer will get past me.

“The boys will want to celebrate tonight.”

The crowd cheers, drowning out Hunter’s voice, but I know what he’s already saying.

There’s only one person I want to celebrate with tonight and I won’t be finding him in a bar six hours away from home.

“You go without me. I’ll stay with the horses.”

Hunter already knew I’d say that. Some rodeo stops require us to have a trailer and tie our horses outside. Hunter has a massive camper with the horse trailer built in, so at least if it’s raining we can provide them shelter. But we never leave them alone.

The usual scenario is the boys hit whatever bar is closest and I stay at the campsite. It’s worked for several years and I don’t mind one bit.

Rodeo is something I live for. The adrenaline surge is real and rather than riding it the whole night, I crash in the evening and search for a quiet space. Sometimes, it’s around the campfire with the guys, and other times, it’s in my bunk with a book and an early bedtime.

Me and Hunter are the only ones in our group who travel with our horses. Jamieson and Griff travel together but will share a campsite with us. I know I’m the father figure of our friend group, too, but I really don’t mind.

After my victory lap in the ring and securing the horses, me and Hunter head back to the chutes to wait for Jamieson’s bull ride. We spot Griff in his bullfighter attire wearing a scowl so off-putting I’m almost afraid to say hello.

“Hey, Griff. You okay?” Hunter asks.

Griff, normally a more cheerful guy, growls when he stops in front of us. I don’t think I’ve heard a man growl like that. It’s creepy.

“Not really. That asshole isn’t taking me seriously and I’ve got a bad feeling.”

Hunter and I exchange a confused look. Griff isn’t a ball of sunshine, but he’s also never angry. Not like this. He states facts and goes with blunt honesty as a default setting.

“Who isn’t taking you seriously? Jamieson?”

There’s no way he means his best friend. Jamieson listens to Griff a hundred percent. Griff is like Hunter, but with bulls. He studies their patterns just like the bull riders themselves, and Griff has a knack for sniffing out trouble.

“Yes, Jamieson! He drew Homewrecker and doesn’t want to listen to my advice! Says I should stick to my job and let him do his.”

Both Hunter and I suck in a breath. Bullfighters have one of the most dangerous jobs in rodeo. Griff is one of the best and it’s not like Jamieson to be rude to him. He’s like a six-foot-tall stick of cotton candy.

“Do you want us to talk to him? I don’t have an issue if he snaps at me,” Hunter asks while I search the chutes for Jamieson. “Let him take out whatever is bothering him on me.”

Spotting Jamieson, I put a hand on Hunter’s chest.

“Let me talk to him. He doesn’t need to be upset before he gets on the back of a bull.”

Hunter shrugs and I study Griff for a beat.

“Are you okay doingyourjob tonight?”

Griff nods. “Yeah, I’ll…I can shake it off. But…if he listens to you Jackson, tell him Homewrecker is behaving off. I don’t think he’ll be a straight bucker tonight. He’s gonna spin and…” Griff throws his hands up with a huff. “It’s just my gut, okay?”

“I get it. I’ll talk to him.”

Leaving the two of them, I walk down the chutes until I find Jamieson in his gear, pacing at the rear of the loading chutes.

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