Page 28 of Wild Horses

Still, I can’t deny being in her element makes me feel more connected to her, even if it’s a tenuous thread at best.

There are way more people here than I expect, butthankfully, they have plenty of seats available. I splurge and buy one near the racing gate rather than the chutes—which matters if you want to see the racers. The nice lady in the ticket booth explained all this after she asked me where I wanted to sit, and I stared at her like she’d grown an extra head.

Sliding past the occupied seats, I find mine and plop down next to an older man.

“Hey, there.” He greets me with a kind smile.

I dip my head in greeting before looking for any sign of Laramie. A roster, her name, anything.

“First time at a rodeo?” the man asks.

My lips tug upwards. “What gave me away?”

He shrugs. “I can spot a greenhorn.” There’s a teasing tone to his words that appeals to me.

Leaning closer to him, I say, “So I’m guessing you’re an old hand?” At his nod, I continue. “Any chance you know how I can find out who’s competing in the barrel races?”

He hums. “I can.” His piercing brown eyes study me. “Who you looking for?”

“Laramie Larson. She may not?—”

A large work-worn hand lands on my bad shoulder, and I give a slight wince. His lips quirk in a small smile. “Son, you’re in exactly the right place, especially if you’re who I think you are.”

A thousand thoughts flicker through my mind when I see her.How have you been? How’s your shoulder? Are you seeing anyone? Why did you leave me that night?

That one, more than any other, echoes over and over.

But all I manage to say is, “Congratulations, Trouble,” before thin arms loop around my waist and a head of beautiful brown hair presses to my chest.

The last thing I expect is a hug; the shock and her unexpected weight are enough to knock me down, taking Laramie with me. We end up in a pile on the ground, my back flat against the dirt and her wide-eyed, looking down at me.

“Shit, I’m sorry!” Laramie blurts as I say, “Be careful of your shoulder.”

I breathe in her scent, that mix of hay, sunshine, and the sweeter undercurrent of a fresh bouquet. My hands drift to her hips, and for another beat, we lay there, staring at each other. Being this close to her sends a pang of longing through me.

“What are you doing here?” Laramie brushes a too-long strand off my forehead, searching my face as if she can’t believe I’m real.The feeling’s mutual, sweetheart.

“Mimi, you wanna let the man up?” Her dad’s laugh snaps us to action.

“Oh, crap, yeah.” Laramie scrambles off me before reaching to help me up.

Once we’re back on our feet, an awkward silence settles over us, neither of us able to tear our eyes away, but both frozen in place. I want to go to her, to gather her into my arms and shake her while begging her to tell me why she left and how I can make her stay. Spank her ass for putting me through all this pain and then kiss it all better. Get on my knees and promise to be so good for her, she’ll never think of running from me again. Fuck her into the mattress so deep, she can’t walk away.

Conflicted might be the best way to describe what I’m feeling. And if the cloud of indecision flickering across her face is any indication, it’s the same for her.

From behind us, Kit chuckles. “I think you two have some things to discuss.”

“How do you…” Laramie gestures between her father and me, her brow furrowed.

“I’ll let the young man here fill you in on all that.” He steps up to Laramie and hugs her. “You did good, Mimi. Tomorrow will be even better. I’ll see you back at the trailer. Be safe. Be smart.”

To me, he extends a hand. “War, think about what I said.”

The older man’s words replay.“She spent weeks crying over you and her mistake. I don’t tell you that to make you feel any kind of way. My Mimi, she’s a tough girl, but she’s also soft. She just buries it down. Not pushing you to give her another chance, but you being here… well, that says it all. I wasted years hiding my feelings for Laramie’s mom when I could have been hers. Pretending she was nothing but a friend. I’d give almost anything to have those years back. Years I could have spent showing her how much I loved her.”

That I ended up seated next to the father of the woman I’d spent the past three months obsessing over—while adamantly trying to convince myself I was not obsessed—was like a gift from the universe. A universe with a weird, fucked-up sense of humor, but I’ll take it.

I take her hand in mine. “You were amazing.”

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