Page 70 of Breaking the Cowboy's Rules

She shoved down the fear.

“Live in the moment,” she reminded herself like she had all week.

Bodhi dropped down on the back of the moving bronc as easily as most people sat in a chair.

She couldn’t see what he was doing. She knew he had to wrap his grip, settle in.

“Eight seconds,” she whispered to no one. “All he needs is eight.”

The crowd was up, cheering, there was music blasting, a song she’d never heard, and then she heard a slide of metal and Bodhi and a bronc named Devil in the Details burst out into the arena.

*

Bodhi saw thelight rather than the buzzer and launched off the back of the bronc. He preferred the days when he hadn’t worn a helmet to compete. Tipping his hat to the crowd was far more viscerally appealing both to him and them. With the helmet, mouthguard, flak vest, gloves and chaps, there wasn’t much of him to see—just another cowboy.

He waved and hopped over the fence where Nico stood screaming and waving the straw cowboy hat Langston had finally persuaded her to wear instead of the pounds of sunscreen she’d had to lather on several times a day when she’d been working outside. Not that he’d minded helping her reapply the lotion. He’d especially enjoyed inspecting areas that rarely saw the sun.

He’d told her he wouldn’t see her until after the bull riding, so why was he in such a rush to make a big public statement by exiting where he shouldn’t and ripping out his mouthguard so that he could kiss his girl, all in front of more than a thousand spectators?

“That was incredible,” she breathed, clutching on to him when he dropped down and pulled her into his arms and kissed her like he meant it. The adrenaline was still powering through his body, crushing the ache that had earlier been screaming from deep inside his wrist. He had a fracture. He knew it, but he didn’t want to deal with it now. He was weeks away from the end of the season. He couldn’t miss any competition. He’d heal by the finals.

“The kiss or the ride?”

“Both,” she answered without any hesitation. “You’re incredible, Bodhi. Just incredible. It’s like listening to the smoothest jazz and hearing a Mary Oliver poem read out loud all while riding on a Disneyland roller coaster.”

“That about describes it. I expect you to top it when you see me on the back of a bull.”

He kissed her again. “See you soon,” he said and strode off before realizing he hadn’t even thought to check his score—for the first time ever.

“Epic,” Bowen said. “Your form was a little off.”

“Thanks for the thumbs-up,” Bodhi replied. “The moms must be rubbing off on you and your attitude this week.”

“Not true. Lang and Nico seem to be taking the full brunt of the mom force, with Ashni teaching that class and finally giving Beck a good run for his money.” Bowen’s voice was calm as usual, but his eyes searched Bodhi’s. “I think if we don’t propose to those girls, our moms will demand blood.”

“Or our boys,” Bodhi said cheerfully.

“Ouch.”

Beck hurried up. “What’s up with your left hand? Your form looked off when you were riding.”

His wrist and hand were throbbing. He wanted ice and ibuprofen but had time for neither.

“Again, thanks for the compliments,” Bodhi said. “You’ve been MIA today. Ring shopping?”

“Yes.” Beck’s eyes shone with excitement, happiness and nerves. Bodhi felt happy for him. He did. Looked like Beck had Ashni back, and he was well atop the leaderboard in his two events, bulldogging and saddle bronc.

“You going to show us?” Bowen asked.

Beck reached into his pocket, then paused. “I should probably let Ashni see it first,” he said reluctantly. “I’m meeting her in the stands to watch you two go at it. Careful, Bowen.” Beck’s smile turned crafty. “Bodhi edged you out in the bronc even by a point. You’ll never hear the end if it happens on the bull.”

He had? It was all Bodhi could do to not whip his fist up in the air and shout. But he could barely close his fingers, and he didn’t want his cousins to know he was riding injured or that he wasn’t tracking his points because he’d been so eager to get to Nico.

He’d never live it down. He laughed at himself. There were worse things in life, he supposed, than enduring his cousin’s ribbing if they discovered that he’d been hoisted on his own petard—devising a game to push Beck into a long overdue proposal and secure Granddad’s health, happiness, and financial future on the ranch, but then falling in love himself.

But how did she feel about him?

He helped Bowen in the chute with his flank strap, reading the bull, discussing the ride with Bowen and the stock contractor Taryn Telford, even as his mind pondered what exactly he would say to Nico—how the rest of the weekend and beyond might play out.

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