Page 81 of A Baby for the Texas Cowboy
“Give it back, Chris. I was just goofing when I was bored. It was a long time ago.”
“This is a new phone, bro. I know because I went to the Apple store with you a few months ago. Check this out. This is how Anders Wolf starts his perfect wife list.”
“He did not call it that,” a bull rider she didn’t know objected.
“He did. Hand to God. Number one. Not after my money.”
“That’s okay,” Dean said. “I’m cool with that.”
“But number one?” Chris laughed. “And the virtues continue. Not too fancy. Used to hard work. Ranch-raised. Wants to raise our four kids on the ranch and stay home with them.”
“Four kids? You’re gonna have to get off that ball you’re always standin’ on, cowboy,” Dean snickered.
“What else?” someone demanded.
Tinsley had heard enough. She turned and walked back to the family section. The Wolfs had already sat down, not waiting for her. Why? Because she wasn’t family. Not really. They’d accept her, but she wasn’t Anders’ choice—not one thing about her. He didn’t want her. He just wanted his kid on the ranch. He’d resigned himself to try to mold her into an acceptable choice.
Just like she’d been molded all her life.
“Did you see Anders?” Catalina made a kissy face.
“Yeah. He’s…good,” she said lamely, not sure what else to say.
Catalina laughed and covered Diego’s ears. “I’ll tell him you said that. His kisses are good, not great, not fantastic, not amazing, not heart-stopping, not melting—just good.”
Tinsley watched the crowd, the antics of the clowns, the circus that was the finals without seeing any of it.
She’d never thought she’d be perfect.
She just didn’t know how imperfect Anders really found her. Perfect for a fling, but not wife material.
That’s okay, she bolstered her flagging spirit and aching heart. She hadn’t wanted to be a wife. She should have stuck to her rules. She’d be fine co-parenting without being married. Anders deserved to find a wife who’d be his perfect fit.
*
Anders retrieved hisphone from the idiots, and after checking for a message from Tinsley—nothing—he shoved it in his bag. He rarely talked to anyone in the final hour before competition started. Not that he was a big intellectual like Kane and needed alone time like others needed to breathe, but he liked to settle his mind and body and let the training, the experience, and adrenaline do its work. Muscle memory and his super-human sense of balance would do the rest.
He wanted this. Kane wanted it. But Anders wanted it more.
The AEBR was milking Kane’s retirement announcement for all it was worth and attempting to crown a new successor.
Him.
God, he loved this. The stakes. The tension. The hype. He felt invincible.
Anders made his way to the chute. He’d stretched and had the physical therapist work on him some. He felt ready. Humming. He ran over the moves he’d seen Hellfire—the bull he’d picked—make over his past handful of performances.
Kane was waiting to mount up. He saw Anders. Normally, they just hip-checked each other before a competition, maybe head bobbed. Sometimes they offered advice if it was a tricky ride, but at the finals, every ride could be your last if you weren’t on top of your game.
Kane nodded. “You get a good luck kiss from your girl?”
“Nah, she’s with my family,” he answered.
“Oh. Saw her walking toward the back area ’bout an hour ago. Thought she was looking for you.”
He wouldn’t have minded getting a good luck kiss. He missed her. He’d laid down his ultimatum. Now he had to stick to it just like he intended to stick his next ride.
Kane was up. Anders jumped up to assist. Kane was in the zone. Fierce. But Anders still wanted it more. Kane was already thinking about being home full time, building his stock contracting business and the bull breeding, buying back his mother’s family ranch from the grandfather who didn’t want to sell but was finally thinking about it.
