Page 32 of Destry

When I pulled back, I pressed my forehead to hers and dug my fingers into her hips.

“It’s not your fault. Every ride isn’t gonna be perfect. I won’t always win. I know that. The most important thing is that I walked out of that arena and didn’t have to be carried out.”

She swallowed, her hands gripping my shirt. “But you lost…”

“Did I?”

She frowned, confused.

I studied her face, taking my time. “Remember when I told you I wanted something real? Something forever?”

She nodded.

“That’s not in there,” I said, jerking my chin toward the arena. “You’re only as good as your last ride, and even though that’s not my last one, it could’ve been.”

Her frown deepened. “Then what do you have?”

“Shit, I guess I haven’t been clear.”

I cupped her face and moved my thumb over her cheek, watching the way her lashes fluttered.

“What I have is you. That’s if you’re okay with being mine.”

She blinked, completely still, and for a second, I wasn’t sure if she was gonna run or agree but she smiled, she shook her head and my fucking heart dropped.

“No…I’m not opposed.”

Oh fuck. “Good to hear.”

I stole one more kiss. “Now, let me go do the rounds. Getting thrown off that bull likely pissed off a lot of sponsors. I have to smooth that over.”

“Good luck with that.”

“It’s not luck I need, sexy.”

I walked away knowing damn well losing that ride didn’t fucking matter as much as what I’d just won.

CHAPTER

THIRTEEN

Savvy.

The fairgrounds were alive, even at night.

Destry’s loss earlier might have calmed some of the excitement around the arena, but out here it was like nothing had changed. Music played from the carnival rides, kids ran between booths with cotton candy and oversized stuffed animals, and cowboys mixed with locals, laughing and drinking, letting the energy of rodeo season pull them back in.

But my focus wasn’t on any of it. It was on him.

Destry walked beside me with his hands tucked into his pockets and his hat pulled low, looking too relaxed. If being thrown off that bull bothered him, he damn sure wasn’t showing it.

I frowned, cutting my eyes to some kids throwing darts at balloons. “You’re really okay?”

Destry smirked and nodded. “You’ve asked me that three times, Rebel.”

“Because I don’t believe you.”

He chuckled, lightly bumping his shoulder against mine. “Well, I hate to disappoint you, but I’m not going to lose sleep over it.”

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