Hooking Up (Menage a Trouble #3)

Chapter Two

“Carter Fallon.” The twangy drawl was one Carter knew all too well, and it also made his stomach crawl. Tammy Hope was the worst kind of Buckle Bunny—she was a Buckle Bunny with a video camera.

He continued to work the soap into his rope, letting the stickiness sink into the fibers so he could get a good grip. As “header” in the team roping competition, it was his job to lasso the escaped cow around the head while Quint secured its back legs. All this magic happened in as few seconds as they possibly could manage.

“How’s my favorite header?” Tammy held the camera up to catch his reaction. Sometimes her video clips got onto ESPN highlights, which only fueled her fire. She fancied herself the Diane Sawyer of the rodeo.

“I’m not sure who your favorite header is, Tammy, but I’m doin’ just fine.” He tested the rope, found it not quite to his standards and added more soap.

She dissolved into high-pitched giggles, her long blonde ringlets floating around her face. If she stopped playing Barbie doll, she might not be half bad-looking. Between too many rhinestones and the blue eyeshadow up to her perfect brows, she was far from his type.

In this game, he’d learned early on who to mess with and who not to. Actually, he hadn’t been interested in any of the women fans they called Buckle Bunnies, but Quint had messed with a few.

The corner of his lips tipped up at the idea of sic’ing Tammy on his partner. She loomed closer.

“Are you zooming in on my face?”

“You have the sexiest smile, Carter Fallon. Let your fans see it.”

“This is my best side.” He turned his jaw the other direction and continued to work his rope. The sticky residue on his gloves would work perfectly smeared across Tammy’s camera lens.

“Why don’t you answer some questions for me?” she asked, extending one thin leg showcased in a miniskirt. He suspected she was only so thin because she believed men wanted a woman like that. Maybe some did, but not him.

“Fine.” He pushed out a sigh, resigned to long minutes of his life eaten away by her interview questions.

“Great!” She bounced on her toes a moment before settling down to business. “So Team Fallon-Lopez is really ‘on’ this season. How do you see yourself performing tonight?”

“Same as always, I suspect. With a lotta luck and a pinch of skill.”

She chortled. As usual. So tiresome.

Get on with it.

Chances of this interview getting air time were slim—he and Quint weren’t big names. Not yet. But if they kept going like they were, they might see some big money. Right now he was happy to be paying cash for all their travel expenses and entry fees. Thankfully their truck and trailer were paid off, but it would be nice to start building a little emergency fund.

“The rodeo life is hard. You’re always on the road. How do you stay in touch with family and friends?” Tammy asked in a sultry voice.

“Same way anybody does. I call them. Text them.”

She sidled closer until he felt the press of her thigh against his. “Is there a special someone on that list?”

Immediately Bella’s face popped into his mind. Dark lashes fringing her wide gray eyes and all those tormenting freckles. Damn, he could still taste her. So much passion, barely harnessed. It didn’t surprise him that a woman as feisty as Bella would have such an untamed response to his kiss, but he couldn’t deny it stroked his ego too. He wanted her undone, panting, begging for him.

“Oh look, there’s Jeb Anderson. I hear he has someone special. Maybe you should ask him.” Carter barely got the words out before Tammy shot after Jeb.

Shaking his head, Carter returned to checking his gear for his upcoming performance. A bad start would mean he and Quint were pushed out of the standings today. The pressure to perform better and faster each time was like shaking a bottle of champagne—he felt about to burst after every ride.

He and Quint always vented their frustrations to each other, but what about Bella? Who did she confide to?

The jangle of spurs made him look up. His partner shot him a grin, and Carter returned it.

“Tammy get you?” Quint asked, arching one dark brow.

Carter shot him a look. “You sent her after me. Asshole. Jeb’s stuck with her now.”

They shared a chuckle.

“Are you ready for this?” Carter asked.

Quint knew exactly what he was talking about. After working together and being best friends for five years, there weren’t a lot of mysteries between them. “Yeah, I’m ready.”

Carter coiled his rope, whipped his arm and tossed it. The perfect circlet fell on the ears of the cow in his imagination. Quint took a couple practice throws too.

“Did you see Bella Roberts ride that bull? Fucking crazy woman.” Admiration infused Quint’s tone. From the corner of his eye, Carter studied his partner. Same old Quint—slightly mussed, looking as if he’d just rolled out of bed. Carter saw nothing in his expression to alert him to a crush.

Good thing. The last thing he needed was a pissed-off partner. They’d never found a woman to fight over and they had to keep it that way. One hiccup out in that arena would throw them off.

“No, I didn’t see her ride. Heard about it, though.” It was all the guys could talk about. How Bella had sworn only a bull could handle her, and she’d jumped on to prove it. Sure, she hadn’t made the full eight-second ride, but she hadn’t been killed.

“That wasn’t her first time on a bull,” Quint said, his thoughts running close to Carter’s. “I can’t imagine what her childhood musta been like.”

“Doesn’t she have a brother? He could probably tell you some stories.”

“Yeah, but he’s not a rodeo guy. I heard he’s a cattleman back in Arkansas.”

“Is that where Bella’s from?” Carter didn’t know nearly enough about her. He planned to uncover all her secrets tonight over dinner. Then later—right after he made her yodel at the ceiling in pleasure.

Quint lifted a shoulder in a half-shrug. “I don’t know exactly. She’s got some walls up, that woman.”

“I think it adds to her popularity.”

“Yeah, both with the guys and the fans.” Quint scuffed his knuckles over his jaw and tossed his rope at an invisible target again.

“Whatever her story is, she’s good at keeping it under wraps.”

“Tammy hasn’t gotten to her yet.”

They exchanged a look and burst into laughter. “Tammy’s afraid of Bella, I reckon,” Carter said.

“Why do you say that?”

“Haven’t you noticed how the other women give Bella such a wide berth?”

Quint crossed his arms over his chest and looked downright grumpy. Alarm bells sounded in Carter’s brain. When Quint found a cause worth championing, he didn’t back down easily. With him in Bella’s corner, Carter would have a harder time keeping anything from him. Like the fact that he planned to lasso Bella.

“I know she and Wynonna Calhoun don’t have any love between them.”

The Calhouns were a whole family of rodeo people. Five brothers and a little sister, each of them neck-deep in competition. Since Wynonna competed directly against Bella, things were strained between them.

“But the Calhouns are all prickly. That doesn’t mean anything,” Carter offered. “Buck’s been giving us lip service for a year.” Buck Calhoun and his team roping partner, Asher Franklin, were at the top of their game—and his and Quint’s biggest challenger.

Quint shrugged as if his denim shirt was too tight. “Either way, I don’t think Bella should be treated badly.”

Uh-oh. Carter’s alarms blared now. “I don’t see any harm besides the normal teasing that goes on between rodeo people. Don’t get your thong up your ass.”

“Dickhead. You know I go commando.” He shifted as if swinging his free balls.

“Yeah, I’ve seen enough of you to last me a lifetime.” Carter threw the loop of rope over his shoulder and started walking away. “Going to check the horses.”

“I’ll come along.” As soon as Quint joined him, they settled into their old rhythm. Suddenly, Bella wasn’t a tension between them. They had a job to do, and Team Fallon-Lopez was going to kick ass.

* * * * *

The Bella Roberts cheering section was out of control. She had so many cowboys lined up watching her, Quint thought he might need to apply for an official fan club membership card just to stand alongside them.

He hung off to the side. From her position, he knew she could see him. Good—he wanted his touch, his kiss, to be the last thing she thought about before she got into the saddle.

Damn, she looked glorious tonight. Most of the girls primped themselves for the competition. Plenty of guys too. Bella didn’t need much to bring out her natural beauty, though, and the way she held herself so gracefully commanded everyone’s attention. Her freckles alone could bring a man to his knees, though.

Hell, even Carter stood a few feet away, observing her. His friend didn’t think Quint knew, but Carter was as obvious as a dog with porcupine quills in its nose. He’d been sniffing around Bella a lot lately. Carter thought Quint didn’t notice that he kept disappearing, but he knew Carter kept putting himself in Bella’s path.

Let him try. He won’t get anywhere.

Not when she’d already given Quint that stolen moment. And there were many more to come. He stared at her wiggling hips as she strutted to her horse and mounted with an ease only a true cowgirl could manage.

A knot in his chest tightened, tugging an invisible rope connected to his cock. Having her body molded to his while he kissed her wasn’t something he’d forget easily.

“Come on, beautiful,” he murmured.

She gave a saucy wave to the crowd, which erupted into cheers. The cowboys waved and shouted to her as she trotted past them. Then she stopped playing with her onlookers and got down to business.

Quint noted the set of her jaw and tilt of her head. The long lines of her back spoke of total dedication to her sport. She was going in with the gold buckle already fixed in her mind. Nobody was going to take it away from her.

The buzzer sounded, and she was off. Looping the barrels with such skill and speed that the knot in his chest broke free and he fist-punched the air. “Yahhh!”

Carter was grinning. A group of fans near the front was on their feet holding up individual letters that spelled Bella’s name.

She skidded to a stop and performed a magnificent and Disney-princess-like bow from the saddle that had everyone roaring. Quint looked around to see Carter leaving the arena.

Oh hell no.

He tailed him, closing the gap in seconds. They were almost of equal height, but Quint’s longer legs always run the races. “Where ya going, Carter?”

“Just getting a drink. I’m mighty thirsty.”

“I bet. Watching Bella probably does that to everybody.”

Carter’s bored expression was totally an act. “I reckon.”

Quint didn’t know whether he wanted to punch his friend or join him in finding Bella. “They got some of those power drinks back there by the gate. Want me to grab you one?”

Carter eyed him. All of a sudden, they were like two bulldogs circling the same little French poodle. Each aware of what the other was doing but not willing to take that first lunge at the other.

In the meantime, the poodle got away. Bella disappeared from the arena, along with her tooled-edge chaps and her horse sporting streamers on its tail.

Quint folded his arms, bracing his legs wide. He might not have gotten to her in time, but neither had Carter.

*

Bella paced the passageway, trying to keep her mind off…well, everything. Her ride, her score that was about to be announced and especially that pair of ropers determined to drive her batty.

Last time she’d seen them, they were standing together. She hadn’t known two solid walls of muscle could stare like that. How was a woman supposed to keep her wits about her with hunks like them giving her the come-hither look?

“Great ride, Bella!”

She glanced up to see a tall drink of water loping toward her flanked by giggling little girls. Bella dropped her personal life and smiled at the girls. They couldn’t be more than eight years old, and they hid their smiles behind their hands.

“Well aren’t you two ready for the rodeo? Look at all those rhinestones! And is that a turquoise ring I see on your finger, little one?” She crouched before the girls.

“Sarah and Beatrice were itching to meet their favorite barrel racer,” the man drawled.

Bella fawned over silver rings and silky curls before standing again and looking at the man. “Do you have something I can autograph for them?”

“Sugar, I’ve got a lot of somethings you can lay your ink on.”

After years of comments like this, Bella had her bored expression set on redial. She conjured it now and stared at him until the tips of his ears reddened.

At least he has the grace to blush. The nerve—bringing his little girls as a reason to flirt with me. Or saying that in front of them.

“I’ve got a pen if you have some paper? A receipt or a business card?” She whipped a pen from her front pocket and held it up.

“Sure do, miss.” He rooted in his pocket and came out with a business card with an oily fingerprint on it. She didn’t bother reading the card—she just flipped it over and signed it to Sarah and Beatrice.

When she handed the token to the girls, they squealed. One tugged her hand, and Bella offered them each a big hug. As soon as she straightened again, the man extended his arms.

“Where’s my hug? A single dad doesn’t get many chances to touch a pretty woman such as yourself.”

Ugh. She was really running out of people she actually liked.

He reached for her, and she stepped back. “Why don’t you try and see how many women you get to touch with no hands?”

At her threat, a twinkle appeared in his eyes. Damn these men who thought she was just playing hard to get. They looked at her responses as a challenge, but she was no prize to be won.

“Sarah, Beatrice, follow your dreams, lovely girls. And enjoy the rest of the rodeo, you hear?”

Beaming, they nodded. She whirled and took off deeper into the building where nobody could find her. A few steps in, she realized she hadn’t heard her score. Screw it. She knew she was right around the sixteen-second mark. Not her best time, but it would get her in the standings. Her only real competition was Wynonna Calhoun, and she wasn’t here tonight.

A hand locked on her shoulder. Instinct made her whip around, her fist connecting with a hard jaw. Pain sliced through her knuckles and up her arm, along with a deep satisfaction. She couldn’t believe that single dad had followed her. She couldn’t believe—

She blinked at Carter, who was shaking off her punch. His hat sat askew on his head, giving her a glimpse of his jet black hair. When he met her gaze, amusement ringed his equally black eyes. All that Argentinian blood was no good for her libido. It purred like a big cat about to win a prized slab of meat.

“What the hell are you doing, sneaking up on me like that?” Her words came out too breathy, but none of them sounded like fear. And her racing heart definitely had nothing to do with it.

“I wanted to congratulate you on top score.”

“Top?” Her chances of winning this thing in Henderson were about to be realized. Only a few more competitors and none of them could throw her out of first place unless they got lucky and had the run of their lives.

He gave a cocky jerk of his head that was supposed to be a nod. To her, it was like a damn mating call. Her body geared up, and her fingers twitched to touch him. To feel the coarse stubble along his angular jaw and imagine how it felt between her thighs.

A shiver ran through her.

He mistook it as emotion about her standings. “I know you’re excited. Did you hear the place go crazy when they put your name on top?”

She couldn’t stop her grin from taking over her features. She’d walk out of here with a buckle that Frazer hadn’t gotten.

Without realizing what she was about to do, she hurled herself at Carter. He caught her against his broad chest. He braced himself and wrapped his arms around her.

“I beat him,” she said.

“You beat ’em all, gorgeous.” The rumble of his words stole her mind, and she made the mistake of looking into his eyes.

“Fuck, you’re more beautiful when you’re happy.” He palmed her cheek, and she resisted turning into his touch like a cat starved for affection.

Slowly, she pulled free of his hold and backed away two steps. She fought to control her breathing so he didn’t think she was struggling with total arousal. But she was. Carter was the stuff of fantasies, a calendar centerfold with a cocky grin. Cowboy crack.

She tucked a strand of hair under her hat and gave him a nod. “Thank you for delivering the news to me. I’d like to be alone for a bit if you don’t mind.”

He stood rooted in place, eyes darkening as he swept his gaze from the top of her hat to the tips of her boots. All the places in between tingled.

“I understand. This is your image—playing hard to get.”

She blinked. “I’m not playing hard to get. I am hard to get. Thanks again for delivering the news, Carter.”

“Does this mean the steak dinner’s on hold?”

If she found herself within ten feet of this man and a prime cut of beef, she was a goner. And she’d worked too hard not to distance her heart from the bullshit men dished up.

“That’s right. Indefinitely on hold. Good luck with your ride, Cowboy.”

* * * * *

“What the fuck’s your problem, Fallon?” Quint jabbed a finger into his chest. “Are you in this competition with me or not?”

“I’m in.” He just couldn’t concentrate very well after Bella’s rejection. He focused hard on the rope in his hands and evading all questioning from his partner. His very angry partner.

He hadn’t seen Quint with his chaps this bunched since the Calhouns bumped them from ranks and booted them from the national finals last fall.

“If you think you’re fooling anybody, you’re wrong.” Quint jerked his gloves down harder over his fingers, a sure sign he was about to curl his fists and punch something.

Carter met his gaze. “Fooling about what? I’m getting ready to compete, Quint. What the fuck are you talking about?”

“You keep disappearing. I know you’re prowling after a woman.” Quint didn’t look remotely happy about the thought, and it didn’t have anything to do with them being thrown off their game.

“Since we’re discussing distractions, why don’t we talk about yours?”

Quint narrowed his eyes. “I’m dead focused on this win, Carter.”

“Until Bella Roberts walks by.”

His partner’s glare would have felled a weaker man. Besides, he could take Quint. They’d never gotten into a full-on brawl, but they’d thrown a punch or two in the heat of the moment. Carter squared his shoulders.

Quint took a big step toward him, bringing them nose-to-nose. Carter worked his jaw. “Dammit, I don’t wanna fuck up your pretty face, Lopez. Get out of my space.”

“Admit that you’ve been sniffing around Bella and I’ll back off.”

“Why’s it so important to you?”

“You know damn well that our rhythm is off if there’s shit between us. Spill it so we can go out and do the best damn run of our lives. I’m taking home a cash prize from Henderson.”

“Fine. I went and found her and congratulated her. Happy?”

The feverish light in Quint’s eyes deadened, and he sniffed. “Yeah. Now they’re about to call our names.”

“I’m ready.”

*

Fucking hell, how was Quint going to concentrate when Bella stood off to the side watching the roping event?

Quint caught Bella’s gaze and offered her a tip of his hat. She returned it with a saucy flick of her own that made his chest tight. What was her allure? She was beautiful, sure, but he’d seen plenty of pretty girls over the years. Her confidence was definitely sexy, but then again, he’d been around enough rodeo ladies to have seen this trait by the barrelful.

Something about those big gray eyes tugged at a man’s innards and drew him closer.

Carter made a move beside him and when Quint looked over, he saw his partner was also tipping his hat to Bella.

Son of a bitch.

They’d never argued over a woman, but there was still plenty of time.

Quint nudged Carter with his elbow. His partner elbowed him right back—in the ribs. Hard.

“What the fuck’s your problem, Fallon?”

“What’s yours, Lopez ?”

They glared at each other. When Quint broke the staring contest and returned his attention to the sidelines, Bella was gone.

If given the choice, who would she pick? Carter got his share of female attention. Quint supposed the jackass had all the things a woman wanted in the looks department. But hell, people sometimes asked if they were brothers. With their dark hair, they could be. But Quint was pretty sure he had more in muscle.

And he was definitely packing more heat in his Wranglers. No question.

He faced the arena again, fuming. “If you fuck this up for us tonight because you’re distracted, I’m going to personally rearrange your teeth.”

“I won’t fuck it up. I’m more worried about you. Getting your rope knotted over a woman who won’t give you the time of day?”

“Fallon-Lopez. You’re in the pipeline.” The crusty cowboy’s announcement broke up their argument—for the time being. Quint mounted and looked at his partner in the same way he’d been doing for the past six years they’d competed together. When it came to Bella, may the best man win. But when it came to rodeo’ing, they were a team.

Seated on his horse with Carter several feet away on his own and a calf in its holding pen between them, Quint began to count backward in his mind. He’d always counted down and felt his thoughts click into place like the tumblers on a lock. Tick, tick, tick until everything aligned.

The buzzer sounded. His horse, well-trained and ready for the bag of hot oats he got as a treat after every ride, lunged out. The calf shot between him and Carter.

Carter threw his lasso and roped it across the horns with a precision born of years of experience. Quint released his rope at nearly the same time. The calf was pulled up between them, and the crowd cheered.

“Five. That felt like five seconds,” Carter called to him.

He gave a hasty nod as they released their lassos and someone came out to free the calf. Quint brought his horse around to Carter’s. They shared a grin and left the arena as their score of four-point-nine-seconds was announced.

Fist-punching the air, Quint scanned the sidelines and saw her—Bella balanced on the rails of a chute talking to Jeb Anderson. Not even giving him—or even Carter—a glance.

Tightening his lips, Quint tried not to feel as if she’d just punched him in the gut. He and his partner had just brought in one of the best scores of their careers.

And a lot of weight it carried with a woman like Bella. What did get her weak in the knees? He was damn well going to find out and make the most of it.