Page 43 of Eight Second Hearts

Beau lets me go reluctantly, but he reaches forward to help me adjust my clothing despite me putting a stop to this. He gently touches my chin, his eyes filled with heated emotion I don’t really have a name for. Or the name I have can’t be written.

This rodeo clown shouldn’t be looking at me like that.

“We’ll stick a pin in it,” Beau nods.

I nod. “Yeah. That sounds good,” I croak. “A rain check.”

He grins. “I like rain.” He glances at Tripp before stooping to pick up his cowboy hat. “You should probably get back out to the press box if you’re going to take pictures.”

I can’t go back out there. There’s no way. There’ll be too many questions, too many eyes.

“Yeah,” I nod, pushing my hair back from my face. The braid I’d been wearing is practically gone, Beau’s fingers pulling the strands loose. I’ll have to re-braid it or just let it down. “I’ll go do that.”

I slip out of the curtain, but I don’t go back inside. I get out of the arena entirely.

The first gulp of air outside is filled with the sweet scents of funnel cakes and cotton candy.

The second one brings an awareness of just how fucked I am when it comes to the Crimson Three.

Chapter 26

Indie

Idon’t go back inside for a while, needing the open air and the separation to get my head in order. The adrenaline high and drop feels almost like it fucked with my blood sugar, so I end up getting a funnel cake to even me out. It’s the best goddamn funnel cake I’ve ever eaten, and I don’t know if it’s because I haven’t eaten in a while or because the taste of Beau is still on my lips.

For an hour, I walk around the carnival, trying to clear my head. It doesn’t work. I’m just as much in knots when I finally step back into the arena as I was before I left it. Still, despite my time away and the worry over what I’m going to do with the three men I have serious crushes on right now, I’m not prepared for the woman who steps into my path as I enter the arena.

I sigh. “Not right now, Kim,” I say, annoyed with the blonde. She never ceases to amaze me with her ability to appear when I least want her to. Maybe it’s just because I never want her showing up. Maybe that’s why it’s annoying every single time.

“I didn’t know the best way to get a story was to fuck them,” Kim says haughtily, her massive lashes making her eyes blink too often. She practically generates a wind with those things.

I raise my brows at her. “Didn’t you try to sleep with Beau Rogers?”

“I didn’t,” she sneers.

“Because he said no, not because you suddenly had a change of heart,” I point out. “Besides, you’re definitely sleeping with Zander.”

To her credit, she doesn’t react to my words. She doesn’t need to though. Zander himself mentioned it. The man doesn’t say much, but he sure does talk when he’s had a beer and finds me in the press box.

She crosses her arms. “I think Frank would like to hear about the show you just put on for the crowd. You think he’ll appreciate the speculations that’ll come from this?”

“If that’s what you gotta do, then do it,” I shrug. “Your threats mean nothing to me.”

She narrows her eyes. “You don’t fit in here!”

“That’s clear,” I say, staring at her. “Are you done?”

“You’re a fucking bitch,” she snarls, pulling out all the stops.

I laugh and her face flushes with anger. “Kim, let me be honest with you. I want to be in the rodeo circuit as much as I want to be standing here having this conversation with you. Trust me when I say, I don’t give two shits what you do. I tried to play nice with you in the beginning, and you were a dick. You know what happens to assholes like you? They get nowhere.” I take a step closer to her. “So do what it is you want to. Get me fired. It doesn’t matter. In the end, I’ll still be better than you. I’ll still get the story. And hell, maybe I’ll fuck those three delicious cowboys just to spite you.” I lean closer. “Wanna know how good they are at kissing? I could tell you.”

She steps back with a huff, disgust on her face. “You keep away from me with your whore-mouth! Frank’s going to hear about all of this.” She glances over my shoulder and curls up her lip. “Oh look. Your watch dogs are back.”

I glance over my shoulder just in time for Beau, Tripp, and Ram to circle me, their eyes hard on Kim. “Scary guard dog privileges are nice, aren’t they?” I say, mostly to tease her. I don’t consider them my guard dogs, but I don’t want her to know that.

“I’m more like a lap dog,” Beau says with a grin. “But trust that I bite.”

She bristles and spins on her heel. With an impressive fluff of her hair, she struts away, already dialing on her phone.

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