Page 30 of Untamed

I shift my gaze back to the arena, where the mounted pick-up men maneuver into position, getting ready for action. The bronc thrashes around in the chute, but the look on Garrett’s face tells me he remains unaffected. The animal can fuck around in there as much as it likes. The real fun starts when they open the gates—in the arena.

The murmurs in the crowd grow louder, the atmosphere turning electric, with every minute that passes. The people want a show. And they want it now. I glance at the judges. They sit motionless, their eyes focused on Garret as they wait for his signal like the rest of us.

And then it happens.

Go time.

The metal clang of the chute opening snaps me to attention. My head jerks up in time to see Garrett as the animal explodesout of the gate, his feet positioned above the horse’s shoulders and one hand raised high above his head.

The horse dips its head, throwing its rear end up in the air, twisting and turning, bucking and broncing with a vengeance in its desperate attempt to unseat the cowboy on top. Garrett holds on, gripping the rope attached to the halter with one hand and digging his heels in. His blunt spurs scrape from the shoulder to the flank, the horse going wilder as he balances with his other arm up in the air. Long after the buzzer goes off, dirt flies, hooves pound the sand and the crowd goes crazy, whooping and hollering with glee as they watch his performance.

Glancing at the large timer clock, attached to the metal pole just outside the arena, the glowing numbers showing me that forty-one seconds have already passed. Garrett needed to stay on for at least eight seconds and he’s surpassed that. I’ve gotta give it to him—he’s good. But I can’t help the little voice in my head telling me.

He might be good, butI’m better.

The pick-up riders move toward him, trying to help him to safety, but the bronc is too quick. Then it bucks, its rear hind high, unseating Garrett. In a flash, his body hits the sand like a sack of shit, his eyes squeezing shut, no doubt at the force of his fall. The pick-up men are there in an instant, snatching him up and hauling him away. The look of pain on his face is replaced with a smug smirk when the crowd cheers, and he lifts a hand waving at his audience. A few seconds later, the horse is corralled and being pulled out of the arena, ending the performance.

Beside me, a low whistle breaks through the noise. I look down to see Leroy watching the clock closely. “Just over a minute. He’ll make sure everyone in the county knows his time by the end of the week.”

“Not bad,” I grunt.

Leroy chuckles, shaking his head in amusement. “What’s your time?”

I don’t hesitate; the time is imprinted on my brain, not that it matters. It’s only bragging rights. You’re only scored for the first eight seconds you manage to stay on. “Three minutes and twenty-two seconds. It’s still unbeaten to this day,” I say, and I’m surprised at the hint of pride in my voice.

Leroy’s brows shoot up, his eyes widening with respect. “Well shit. Heard you still held the record, but I didn’t think your timing would be so…impressive.”

I smirk, leaning back against the railing. “Believe it, old man. These young bucko’s think they’re the fucking shit nowadays, but it’s been years since I hit that time. Even with me being out of the rodeo game, no one’s come close.”

Leroy opens his mouth to say something but the announcer’s voice booms over the microphone cutting him off. “One minutes and four seconds on the clock. Nice ride Garrett DeGraw. Well, there you have it folks, we still have a couple more competitors to go but I think that one will be tough to beat.”

The crowd erupts into cheers, the atmosphere in the bleachers turning electric. When I look over at Garrett, he’s standing outside the arena, surrounded by a small crowd of women. Buckle bunnies if I were to guess, all vying for his attention, and desperate to be the standout. The one he gives his hat to. The hat rule is simple. You place it on a woman’s head, then she’s yours. It’s a show of ownership. And something that started generations ago.

Garrett basks in their attention, smug and loving every minute as they fawn over him. I snort a laugh. Does he know it’s fake admiration? If he weren’t winning, they wouldn’t spare him a second glance.

“That’s where he lacks discipline.” Leroy’s voice cuts into my thoughts. “He’s good at what he does, but he could be better ifhe just shut out the outside noise, the temptation. I’m not saying he can’t have fun, but like I said, he takes it too far.” He laughs, nodding his head toward the group. “You think they even know what his time was?”

A smirk curves my lips as I watch Garrett throw a brunette a flirty wink. “Probably not. But they don’t care anyway. You know how this life works, how the women work. They are vipers, ready and waiting to sink their claws in and bag themselves a cowboy.” I sigh, scrubbing a hand across my jaw. “I was no saint, Leroy. Had my fair share of women. And the drinking… it comes with the territory. You just gotta decide what’s more important. For a long time, I lost sight of that. Which is why I’m not out there beating his ass.” I clear my mouth of grit, hating that I just let my guard down a little and showed vulnerability. Not that I think Leroy will judge me, but still.

Leroy exhales a weary sigh and pushes off the metal fence. With a quick glance at Garrett, he turns to face me. “I get it, I’ve been there, too. The women. The booze. But I’m telling you now Colter, it’ll be his downfall.”

His words play in my mind as he walks away, heading in the direction of the food vendors.

I stay where I am, my gaze shifting back to the chute where the next competitor mounts his horse. The excitement of the crowd grows, as we wait for the next rider to take his turn. I’m so engrossed in the scene, that I don’t even notice the girls sidling up to me.

“Hey, Colter.” The sugary sweet greeting makes me pause. My head whips around and I find Nova, her eyes alight with mischief. My attention doesn’t stay on her for long, it shifts to the blonde next to her.

Her soft blue-gray eyes meet mine and her mouth curves into a smile so breathtaking, it knocks the wind out of me. I narrow my gaze at her, my face a blank mask as I try to conceal theeffect she has on me. The tension thickens between us, heavy and unsettling as I take her in.

“Hey,” she whispers, her cheeks turning a lovely shade of pink as she averts her gaze.

I smirk. No doubt she’s remembering what happened a couple nights ago. How she came apart just grinding her pussy against me. My dick hardens in my jeans as I remember the look on her perfect face as she climaxed, and I clear my throat, forcing my focus elsewhere. My eyes trail over her. Denim shorts, a white tank top, open flannel, and a tan colored Stetson hat with matching cowboy boots. Every bit the perfect country girl. Beside her, Nova wears a similar outfit, but instead of shorts she has on a skirt with a black tank top. Otherwise it’s the same vibe.

“Hey,” I finally grunt, turning back to the arena.

A rider is being thrown around the arena like a rag doll and I keep my attention on the scene instead of Mila.

“Don’t be like that,” Nova laughs. “You looked lonely, so we thought we’d come keep you company.”

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