Page 82 of A Baby for the Texas Cowboy
And him?
He was waiting on a girl.
He stayed up to watch Kane’s ride. The chute slid open and Bad Monkey pulled his signature move and reared his head back so fast the crowd screamed, but Kane was ready. He stuck the ride no matter what stunt Bad Mo, as his owner affectionately called him, did. He was feeling the lights, the crowd, the energy, the love, and he gave it his all, but Kane just seemed to float on top of the bull.
Kane made something so hard look so easy. He popped off several beats after the light and buzzer signaled success. Bad Mo continued to rock and roll as if soaking up the admiration. The crowd was on its feet. Usually Kane waved a few times and got out of there, but since this was his last go-round he soaked in the standing O.
“Ninety-two.” Axel, who had joined him at the chute, said admiringly. “Nothing to it. Another day at the office.” He lightly gripped Anders’ shoulder.
“Whew.” Anders blew out a breath. He was the last man in contention. And he had next to no breathing room. “Kane sure does love to crank the tension.” He needed to have one of his best rides of the season. They were still neck and neck after the weekend of competition. Kane had the edge.
“You got this,” Axel said.
Anders nodded. It was nice to have his brother attend the finals. Heck, it was nice to have his whole family watching him. And he was going to give them something to cheer about. “See you after my win.” He shoved in his mouth guard and closed the straps on his helmet. Then he mounted the chute.
Hellfire was restless in the stall, shifting back and forth and crashing against the metal. Anders watched while Hellfire was prepped. Part of him wished his brother had come up with him or Kane, but he was fine on his own.
He adjusted his gloves, checked the ties on his boots—although he knew they were tight—pictured himself floating above the bull even as he dropped down, tucked his feet back, and began wrapping and rewrapping his grip as he felt the massive animal shift under him. He closed his eyes and felt the animal’s muscle tension and energy.
He adjusted his weight and moved forward. He didn’t want to overthink, but he did want to take a moment to absorb the fact that he’d made it to the finals and still had a chance to take it all.
Fortune favored the man or woman who would jump into the fray and wrestle fate into submission.
He checked his grip one last time, adjusted his seat until he felt in his sweet spot. One last breath in the dark, and then he opened his eyes, stared at the middle of the bull’s shoulders, and nodded his head.
The sound of sliding metal jacked his adrenaline off the charts, and he was out of the chute, Hellfire dropping low, spinning right, then rearing up and then down again. The front hooves hitting dirt sounded like thunder, and Anders, left hand held high, counterbalanced. Two more nearly vertical kickouts and then a right spin, dropped left shoulder and then a left spin like Hellfire had decided to flaunt all laws of physics.
Anders felt glued to the ride. The crowd—a blur of color and light—seemed to be on their feet. He couldn’t hear the buzzer, but he saw the light. He counted one and then two as he looked for his opening to launch himself off. He dropped the rope and threw himself clear, running for fence and hurdling over.
He’d seen his fair share of bull riders stick the ride but get hurt on their dismount or in hesitating to get out of the way.
He waved to the crowd, figuring he’d done his job and Hellfire had done his.
Ninety-two point two-five!
He’d won. When combined with his scores over the finals, he had eked out a win! By a quarter of a point. He hopped down, waved to each side of the arena, and then hopped back over.
The first one to greet him was Kane, who slapped his back and congratulated him.
He was then swept up in the AEBR champion PR blitz.
This was what he’d wanted, the win, but it would have felt sweeter with Tinsley by his side.
*
Tinsley sat inher hotel room and debated calling an Uber to the airport. She was supposed to meet the Wolfs at the after-party. She’d never felt less like celebrating. She’d broken her rule by getting involved with Anders, and she’d broken another by falling in love.
“Love,” she muttered. She hadn’t wanted to love.
She caught her reflection in the mirror; her lips were twisted much like her mother’s had been last week at their unexpected and horrible reunion.
She jumped up. It was like seeing a future ghost of herself. Maybe her mother was so negative and so angry because she hadn’t had love and she hadn’t been able to love.
“But I love,” Tinsley said to her frightened reflection.
And that was the problem. She had fallen hard, head over boots in love with a man who had a perfect wife list that sounded nothing like her.
She may not have wanted to be a wife, but she wanted love. She’d never had it and now, she finally admitted to herself, she wanted love and needed love.
