Page 154 of Knot Your Problem, Cowboy
My Alpha.
Ridge is on the mechanical bull, wearing only jeans, boots, and a hat, his chest bare and glistening with sweat. One hand grips the rope while the other is high in the air, perfect form even on a machine. The bull spins and bucks, but Ridge moves with it fluidly, like the machine is an extension of his own body.
I stand frozen, mesmerized by the play of muscles across his back, the way his thighs grip, the sheer power and grace of him. He’s spectacular. Beautiful. Mine.
The mechanical bull makes another violent turn, and that’s when he spots me. His concentration breaks for just a second, but it’s enough. He has to grab on with both hands to keep from falling and hits the stop button with his knee.
“Enjoying the show?” he asks, grinning as he climbs off.
“Just checking on my champion,” I tease, walking closer.
He meets me halfway, and despite the sweat and the fact that he probably needs water and rest, he pullsme against him immediately. His kiss tastes sweet, and I melt into him like I always do.
“You look absolutely delicious today,” he murmurs against my lips, hand sliding down to pat my ass. “This dress will get you into so much trouble.”
“It’s just a sundress,” I protest, but I’m pleased.
“On you, nothing isjustanything.” He pulls back to really look at me, and I take the opportunity to do the same.
There’s a new bruise on his ribs from yesterday’s practice, purplish green against his tan skin. His jeans hang low on his hips, and I can see the V of muscle that disappears beneath the denim. Even after three years away, his body remembers what it was built for.
“How’s training going?” I ask, trying to focus on anything other than how much I want to drag him to the nearest hay bale.
His expression shifts, becomes more serious. “Good. But I need to lift my game. Not much time left, and muscle memory only goes so far.” He pauses. “I’m going to the arena tomorrow. Practice on real bulls.”
My stomach drops. I knew this was coming, but knowing and accepting are two different things. “Real bulls.”
“Have to. The mechanical bull is good for form, but it’s predictable. I need the unpredictability. Need to remember how to read an animal, not a machine.”
I nod, forcing myself to be supportive even as fearclaws at my throat. “Just… please be safe. Wear a helmet. So many riders do now. And a mouth guard.”
He cups my face in his hands, thumbs stroking my cheekbones. “I adore how much you care about me.”
I laugh, but it comes out shaky. “Ridge, I’m terrified. Every time I think about you on a real bull, I see all the ways it could go wrong. I see you unconscious in the dirt. I see another accident that you don’t walk away from.”
“Hey.” He draws me closer, forehead resting against mine. “I’m not the same cocky kid who thought he was invincible. I’m older, smarter. I know my limits.”
“Do you, though?” I pull back to search his eyes. “Because sometimes I see that look, that rodeo champion confidence, and I worry you’ll push too hard.”
“I have too much to live for now.” He kisses me again, deeper this time, like he’s trying to prove his promise through touch alone.
“You’ll be amazing,” I murmur when we break apart, and I mean it even as my heart races with worry. “I know you will. You’re a legend.”
He grins, predatory and perfect. “Anyway, training can wait ten minutes.”
“That’s all?”
“Twenty if you stop talking.”
“Thirty if you’re lucky,” I tease. “Then I’ll tell you something funny that just happened.”
“Deal.” He’s already walking me backward untilthe backs of my knees hit a stray bale of hay near the main entrance. Before I can catch my breath, he hooks an arm around my waist and hauls me down with him. We land in a soft explosion of straw, laughter breaking free of me even as I end up sprawled across his chest.
His hat is gone, his hair mussed, and that wicked grin is aimed straight at me like I’m the only thing worth looking at.
“You planned that,” I accuse, half breathless.
“Maybe.” His voice is rough silk. “Maybe I just wanted you right here.”
