Page 46 of High Value Target

“I can’t say I don’t want to help sick children.”

“Heaven’s no. You’d be tarred and feathered.” He laughed, and she joined him. “Seriously, you can’t do both? Combine them?”

“I’m sure the political party will have a list of charities I’ll be steered toward.”

“The stubborn Tinsley Wyatt I’ve heard so much about caving to social pressure?”

“I’ve spent my whole life caving to social pressure. Conforming. Being perfect. Doing what’s expected.”

“That’s not the girl I met in the dressing room at that lingerie store.”

She smiled. “That was private.”

“What about that fashion show? That wasn’t so private.”

“That was runway fashion. It doesn’t count.”

“You have a strange set of rules about what counts and what doesn’t.”

“Don’t I know it.”

“So why are we here if we’re not bidding?”

“This was on the way, and I like to look at the horses. And we’re killing time.”

“Killing time? Until what?” Grady didn’t like when he didn’t know the day's agenda. He didn’t like being thrown for a loop by surprises. “What is this on the way to?”

“The rodeo.”

“The rodeo?”

“Come on.” She checked her Longines watch. “It’s just a few miles from here.”

***

Twenty minutes later, they sat in the metal stands of an indoor arena that was louder than any concert Grady had been to in his life. The metal building echoed and amplified every sound.

Tinsley dug in the box of popcorn he held and lifted her chin to the ring. “This is my favorite event.”

“Yeah? What is it?”

“Barrel racing.”

A rider came racing out and circled one barrel, then raced to the next, then headed out of the arena. Her time was displayed up on a board.

“Is that fast?”

“Really fast. That girl qualified for the national finals last year. I think she’s even better this year. Wouldn’t surprise me if she wins a world championship.”

“Huh. You know a lot about this sport.”

“Yep.” She studied him, assessing, like she was deciding whether or not to trust him. “Truce?”

“I thought we already had one.”

“I’ve always wanted to do that,” she confessed, bumping her shoulder into his and nodded toward the event.

“Barrel racing?” He pulled his chin back, staring at her. “For real?”

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