Page 153 of Boots, Bucket Lists & Bad Ideas
We all laugh.
“Do we have a brave one here?” The operator’s voice crackles through a microphone from the raised booth. “You there?” His gaze zeroes in on Josie.
He points at her with a grin, and Josie switches to flirt mode.
“You ready to show the bull who’s boss?” There’s a hint of a wink in his playful voice.
“I don’t ‘show’ who’s boss,” she calls up to him, her tone flirty. “I justamthe boss.”
A couple of people in the crowd whistle.
The operator leans back in his seat, looking like he wasn’t expecting her comeback. “Alright then.” He raises an eyebrow. “Got yourself a little attitude to go with that confidence, huh?”
“Confidence is an attitude.” Josie slips off her boots. “It’s knowing exactly what I bring to the table —and what I can walk away from.”
He lets out a low whistle. “Okay, okay. Just don’t say I didn’t warn you. This bull’s a little wild today.”
She grins. “Let it be. I didn’t come for easy rides.”
“Watch yourself, kid. The man said the bull’s a little wild.” Bronx straddles his chair with his arms folded on the round pub table.
Josie leans her arms across from him. “If you weren’t so old, then I wouldn’t be considered a kid to you.”
“Ouch.” Dean points at his brother. “He’s the same age as Hart.”
Josie shrugs, making her way to the mechanical bull.
“Go Josie!” Harper swats her with her hat as she struts to the platform.
Josie runs her hands over the side of the bull. “Hey there, Daddy. I’ve been waiting all night for this.”
“Nooo!” Harper cups her mouth so the word echoes. “Don’t call him daddy.”
“No foreplay from the kid!” Bronx shouts.
“Is foreplay too much to expect from a Bunkhouse Boy?” Josie swings one leg over the bull, settling into the seat.
“Oh, I know foreplay.” I can hear Bronx puffing out his chest without even looking at him.
“Sure you do, Daddy. But do you know what to do with it?” She blows Bronx a kiss.
I glance back, grinning only to find, for the first time, Bronx looks uncomfortable. I also notice Hart sitting at the edge of the group, saying nothing, drink in hand, and a storm behind his eyes.
“Daddy.” Dean snorts. “Dude, I told you letting your grey hair show would age you.”
“Shut the hell up.” Bronx punches him. “Girls dig my grey patches.”
Wyatt snorts into his drink. “They’re supposed to dig them, not assume you’re about to read them a bedtime story and pay their tuition.”
Dean and Wyatt high-five, bursting into loud, barking laughter.
He flips both guys off. “Jealousy’s ugly on both of you.”
The bull shifts under Josie. She adjusts with effortless control.
From his booth, the operator watches her, fingers dancing over the controls. “You sure you don’t want me to go easy on you?”
Josie meets his eyes dead-on. “Don’t flatter yourself,” she says, cool as ever. “I’m not here for training wheels.”
