Page 22 of Bull Riders Don't Swoon

“Griff!”

Jamieson’s panicked voice sounds across the field as he strides towards me.

“What’s wrong?”

“My bull got pulled out of the lineup. He wasn’t supposed to be at today’s event. Somebody fucked up.”

Jamieson’s hands clench at his side, and he chews at his lip.

“Okay. Calm down. Who do you have now?”

“Polaris.”

Nodding, I grip his elbow and pull him towards the chutes. “I know that one. Good bull. Let’s have a look.”

Walking towards the bulls, Jamieson removes his hat and runs a hand through his short hair and puffs out a worried breath. Dropping his elbow, I move my hand to the small of his back.

“Breathe, Jamie. It’ll be fine. You’re good at this.”

His jaw clenches tight, and even walking the tightrope of anxiety, he’s so handsome and capable. I don’t know why he can’t see that in himself. Sometimes it’s hard to remember that Jamieson was once a tall, skinny boy with hidden strength and a kind smile. It seems like so long ago we were both young kids at universitysearching for our places.

Now he’s all man. Bulkier with chiseled features that would rival any marble statue. But there’s nothing hard about Jamieson. That kind smile belongs to a soft heart.

A heart I’d be best to forget about if I’m to set him at ease over this turn of events and do my job properly. My visit to my dad’s last week, along with Jamie mentioning our almost threesome in college, has had my emotions spinning off in all directions that I’m still trying to contain.

“Yeah, you’re right. As always.” He laughs softly and turns his warm gaze on me. “I don’t know what I’d do without you, Griff.”

It’s a passing phrase, thrown out with surface meaning is all. He’d get along just fine without me, but at times like this, I like to believe it means something more.

“You’d ride the bull and score points. The same thing you did before you met me.”

We stop in front of the enclosures, and Jamieson points out Polaris, a black bull with white spots all over one side. I remember it from last year. A fast-moving bull that was unpredictable. In the chutes now, though, he’s calm. Like he’s waiting to burst out and start a fight. The tiny hairs on my arms stand when the bull looks right at me, and I stare back.

“So, any feelings about him?”

None that I want to say out loud to him. Right now, he needs to be reassured.

“I feel like he’s giving you your best score of the season tonight, Jamie. All you need to do is do what you do best. Hang on and make it look easy.”

He snort-laughs and smiles my way so big my breath catches in my throat. “Didn’t you tell me that the first time I met you?”

Smiling, I cock my head for us to walk away from the chutes. “I tell you that all the time, so it’s possible.”

The announcement sounds that the bull riding is about to start, and I pat Jamieson on his flak-jacket-covered chest.

“You’re the best. My feeling is you prove it tonight. I’ve got your back.”

He nods and squeezes my hand before I pull it away.

“Stay safe, Griff.”

“You too, Jamie.”

He walks back to his place where he gets in his groove before he rides, and I step out into the ring, ready to protect all the riders tonight, not just Jamieson.

But that bull has me uneasy, and it’s odd for me to feel so off.

With a whispered prayer to whoever listens, I ready myself for the first rider.

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