Page 10 of Destry

SIX

Destry.

The scent of slow-smoked barbecue and fresh-cut hay filled the air as I stepped onto the fairgrounds, the opening night celebration in full swing. The sun was starting to set, painting the sky in deep orange and pink.

The Millers Pointe Rodeo always kicked off with a barbecue, a chance for the town to come together before the competitions started. Live music played from the small stage, couples swayed near the makeshift dance floor, and tables were packed with cowboys, ranchers, and locals, all eager for the next two weeks of rodeo action.

As soon as I walked in, people noticed.

I wasn’t cocky enough to think it was just about me, but I’d been riding bulls long enough to know I had a reputation around here. Some folks respected me, some envied me, and more than a few wanted something from me.

I took my time moving through the crowd, nodding hellos, shaking hands, exchanging a few quick words with the other riders. A rep from Cavender’s cut me off and extended a hand. I had plenty of sponsors but never discounted the possibility for another.

"Big shot Callahan, lookin’ real comfortable out here," he teased.

"Just another rodeo, brother."

He chuckled. "Uh-huh. Sure. I just hope you can bring us a win.“

"Always," I said, tipping my hat before moving the fuck on. I didn’t need to get caught up with him reminding me how much money Cavender spent on a sponsorship.

After a few more steps, I found myself caught in conversation with Quinn Jaxon. She had just recently taken over for her father with Jaxon Boots who was one of the big-name sponsors looking to put her money behind the right riders and she’d had her eye on me for a while.

"I’ll be watching your qualifying round tomorrow," she said, her smile practiced but genuine. "Callahan, you make eight seconds look effortless."

"Wouldn’t be much of a show if it looked hard, now would it?"

She laughed, nodding to agree. "You’re good for the sport, Destry. You know how to handle yourself in and out of the arena, and that’s exactly what sponsors look for."

I nodded, keeping my posture relaxed. "I appreciate that. Lookin’ forward to getting that win."

"I’m sure you will and you’ll be wearing our name."

I chuckled because I respected her hustle. “Whatever the offer is, yes.”

“That easy?” She arched her brow.

“Pretty much. I’m not going to turn down money and you took the time.” I tipped my head, trying to focus on business but my attention was already shifting.

To her.

Savvy stood across the open space, leaning against a table, laughing at something Maya said. Her smile was bright as hell which annoyed me a little because she refused to give me that same fucking smile.

She was wearing jeans that fit just right, a white tank top under an unbuttoned denim shirt, giving me a perfect view of the soft curve of her collarbone and the dip of her waist. Her cocoa-brown skin caught the glow of the string lights overhead, and her hair was in two neat French braids with her hat tilted low over her eyes.

She looked so fucking good, and from the way one of the rodeo hands was standing a little too close, I wasn’t the only one who noticed.

I was on my way to her, moving through the tables, past the tents, keeping my strides easy and unhurried. I watched as she tilted her head back, laughing again, loving how good it sounded.

The guy next to her leaned in slightly, too damn close, and I felt my fingers curl into my palm.

I stepped right between them without hesitating and tipped my hat as I did.

"You’re too damn close to her," I said, keeping my voice smooth but firm. Then I turned to Savvy, extending my hand. "Come talk to me, lil Rebel."

She frowned, not moving.

I arched a brow, silently reminding her of the secret I was holding.

---