Page 62 of Rainbow Rodeo

“A few. We’re close. How’s the leg doing?”

“Good. Took some time off before coming on down here, and I just spent a bunch of time at the hot springs, so I feel brand-new.” Buick did like to talk.

“Cool. Good to hear it. I know that the guys are looking forward to seeing you on the break.”

“I’m glad.” He was. “What’s your game? You said you’re a roper?” Dave didn’t look like roughstock, really.

“Yessir. Heeler. I’m here because Dez broke his ankle. Sucks.”

“That does suck.” Tank winced, because leg injuries were a shit show. A roper could come back faster than a lot of guys, but still. “Least he’s not a bulldogger, right?”

“Lord yes. Those boys are hard on their ankles and knees.”

“And everything else.” Tank thought those steer wrestlers were nuts. Second only to bareback bronc riders.

“Shit, ain’t none of us quite sane, huh?”

“The game will do that.” They exchanged a grin. Rodeo folks knew one another, deep down.

A soft, possessive touch warmed his shoulder, and he looked up to see Dalton, standing behind him. “Beer?”

A longneck Bud was handed over.

“Yeah. Thank you.” Tank tingled a little at that touch. “Dalton, Dave. Dave, Dalton.”

“Pleased.” Dalton leaned over him to shake, body pressed into him.

“Ditto. Nice to meet you.” Dave grinned slightly. “Am I in your chair?”

“No, sir. I was just delivering beer before I settled.”

“Cool. Well, it was nice to meet you, Tank. Buick says hi.” Dave left them, hoisting up out of the chair and wandering off.

“Have a seat?” The “baby” wanted to come out, but he held it in.

“Thanks.” Dalton sat, then leaned close. “You know him?”

“He’s a good friend’s brother.” That wasn’t a lie, right?

“Ah. I didn’t know if I needed to intervene.” Dalton winked.

He pondered that little hint of possessiveness, and he decided that was fair. He had a bit of a jealous bone, and he didn’t mind feeling like Dalton felt the same way. In fact, it made more than his chest swell with pride.

“Nah. You’re good, cowboy. How’s the brisket looking?”

“Good. Deb’s a grill master.”

“She is. She’s a stud.” Tank stretched, his everything feeling a little cramped from driving.

“Uh-huh.”

Lord, he could feel Dalton’s eyes on him. That heat was unmistakable, and he almost suggested going back to the trailer until supper, but Dustin came on over to sit down.

“You two stop it. You’re eating each other up with that shit.”

“What?” Dalton did the wide-eyed thing, all innocent, and he did that well.

“Dee.” Dustin rolled his eyes. “Don’t even try.”