Catching Sparks (Cherry Peak Book 2)

The July sun is hot, the air muggy around us as we lean against the metal bars wrapped around the Calgary Stampede dirt arena. My shirt may be loose, but the band of my jean shorts is sticking to my sweat-slicked stomach in a very uncomfortable way. If I didn’t have my hat on, I’d be half-blinded from the glare of the sun to our left.

The stands are packed around us, not a seat empty as the current bull rider attempts not to get flown into the dirt before he hits the eight-second mark. I don’t know shit about bull riding, but Wade gave the majority of us here with him today a bit of a summary so we didn’t make fools out of everyone at Steele Ranch. The ranch is a major sponsor for the Stampede this year, and while usually I’m not a rodeo girl, I couldn’t pass up the opportunity to get an up close and personal experience. Not to mention, miss Brody Steele’s first Stampede-headlining performance.

Garrison is completely out of his element here, but he’s been such a good sport. I even managed to get him into a pair of Wrangler jeans and a white T-shirt that does things to his arms that makes me absolutely weak before we left our house this morning. He doesn’t mind the jeans so much after working at the ranch, but out in public at an event of this size, it’s a big change for him. The dark brown boots and hat he’s added to his outfit are downright sinful, and I’ve had a blast warding the women away from him all day.

The entire group of us is dressed fairly similarly, all with Steele Ranch–branded tees and Wranglers of some variation. I’ve been missing this sort of time together as a group since Garrison and I moved to Calgary officially two weeks ago.