Page 8 of Outback Heat
I blush. I never blush so I must be picking up on June’s aura. Supreme shyness washes over me and I nervously smooth my sweaty palms against my jeans.
Maybe I’m channelling how June feels about Ben? It makes more logical sense than an instant attraction to an Alpha from across an arena. Hell, I can’t even scent him from here.
But I can feel him.
Somehow I just know the sparking, erratic aura I can feel humming nearby is him. Murphy Myers.
“I – I’m not sure what’s happening,” I say, scrunching my nose at the stutter.
Ida’s beaming grin lessens slightly as she studies my uncertain body language. My shoulders are hunched and I’m fidgeting.
“It’s alright, dearie. We won’t do anything about it tonight, just enjoy the show. We can revisit matchmaking in the morning,” she says, patting my hand.
I swallow and catch June’s eyes, which soften as she says, “Don’t worry too much about it. Murphy is a good guy.”
I swallow. If he’s a good guy, then why does his aura feel like a cyclone?
Four
Murphy
Myadrenalineispumping,steer wrestling has me riding on a high, and I don’t want to come down. I feel ready for more. Like I can tackle the world.
Nothing compares to rodeo, I swear. Putting your body on the line, testing your limits, and coming out the victor is the best way to get to know yourself. From the moment the buzzer sounds, it’s just you, the beast, and the clock. In that moment, because it’s over in the blink of an eye, I know exactly who I am. I’m Murphy-fucking-Myers and no matter how much I’m warped by my aura sickness, the core of me is still there. For those few blissful seconds, I’m just me. A freedom earned by literally grabbing life by the horns.
“Mate, that was brilliant,” Ben says, clapping me on the shoulder. I feel privileged to be one of the few people who can draw out the stiff Alpha’s playful side.
I bounce on the balls of my feet and jokingly box at his abs. “Yes, mate! We should take this on tour. You and me, steer wrestling champions.”
He laughs at me, batting at my hands and shaking his head at my enthusiasm. “Calm down, big shot.”
I lean up against the cool metal of the arena fence as I lazily pat Muddy’s neck, and watch the next pair launch after their steer. The cowboy throws himself from his horse, but his timing is off and he only grabs one horn. He’s dragged a few meters before he lets go and the steer trots away. The buzzer sounds, and the cowboy hits the ground in frustration. I shouldn’t feel smug. Most of these fellas are just amateurs from the local cattle stations around Bodella. And yet, my competitive side cheers in victory.
I sweep my eyes over the crowd, recognising many of the locals and spotting a few out-of-towners. I spot Ben’s mate, June Cunningham, sitting next to Ida, Bodella’s matriarch and resident busy-body.
My breath catches. Sitting beside Ida is the most gorgeous woman with long brown hair.
“Who isthat?“ I mutter in a daze.
She’s watching the arena with interest, unaware I’m studying her with equal fascination. She’s wearing plain blue jeans and a tight tank top which does nothing to hide the swell of her full breasts. Her skin is flushed, like she’s not used to the heat, and I’m overwhelmed by the need to lick the pink tinge.
I raise my nose and inhale deeply, trying to catch a hint of her scent on the wind. All I get is a nose full of Alpha, horse, and cow.
Even without scenting her, I know what she is.
Unmated Omega.
Fuck, she’s so pretty. Sitting there with her eyes shining with interest, watching those other cowboys compete. Something twists in my gut, and envy rises within me. I want her to look at me. No one else. Only me.
My aura shifts, the adrenaline and enthusiasm morphing into something wilder. The need to show off for the Omega is urgent.
Striding up to the rodeo organiser, I sign up for the most dangerous event offered tonight. Bronc riding. Wild bucking horses. It’s not technically banned in my contract but it’s an event known for making its competitors pay with blood. These horses are smarter than a bull and they’re mean. They’ll do anything to buck you off. It’s impressive as hell and that’s what I’m going for.
I need her to see me. To notice me. It’s reckless and impulsive and before I know it, I’m slipping into the saddle of a wild, foaming horse, and wrapping a rope tightly around my hand to tether myself to the beast.
“Murphy, what the hell are you doing?” I hear Ben shout but it’s too late. The buzzer sounds and the chute swings open.
I just have to hold on for the next eight seconds.
