AUDREY
“I’ll buy you a drink.” His grip propelled me to the bar. Damn, could the guy be any pushier?
Seriously.
I assumed this was how he made it big in the hedge fund world.
Considering I just turned down a far more appealing drink offer, I found it hard to even be polite.
I dug in my heels and resisted his hold on me, which made my arm tug in its socket.
“No, Jett. I don’t want a drink with you.
” My action and loud words attracted the attention of everyone around us.
I usually didn’t want to be the center of attention, but now I was glad for it.
He stopped and turned to look down at me, but he didn’t let go of my shoulder.
“I’m here with a friend,” I said.
Before I finished speaking, I felt a hand on my lower back and knew instantly who it was.
“Everything okay here, darlin’?” Boyd’s voice was soft and slow, but there was no mistaking the danger in it. The menace to Jett if I said things weren’t okay.
I was one hundred and five percent sure Boyd would happily deck the guy if I wanted.
What I wasn’t sure of was whether he’d hold back, even if I told him things were fine.
I didn’t want to start a fight. I didn’t want Jett to think he was being interrupted.
I’d told him we were one and done and that hadn’t worked.
If I told Boyd I was fine and went about my night with Becky, I had a feeling Jett would keep sending flowers, keep texting. Or worse.
There was one, very big, very tall way to get my point across to Jett that I wasn’t interested.
I turned and placed my hand on Boyd’s hard chest. His arm instantly banded around my waist, drawing me closer. “There you are!” I purred, like we were together. As in together. I stared adoringly up into his face.
Boyd looked down at me, and his easy smile came immediately, but his gaze was shrewd.
I’d just told him things weren’t going to work out, and now I was fawning all over him.
He might be crazy enough to climb on the back of a bull and try to stay on, but he was no idiot.
His gaze traveled between me and Jett. “Was this guy bothering you, darlin’? ”
“No, just a misunderstanding. I was just telling him that it wasn’t necessary to text me or send me flowers at work. Our dinner last weekend was a one-time thing.”
“Is that so?” Boyd asked.
I nodded. “Yes, clearly Jett didn’t know you were my date.” I laid my cheek against his muscled chest like we were far more than dating—like we were an exclusive couple.
Too bad that wouldn’t be the case.
Jett’s eyes narrowed, and his cheeks flushed with anger. He stared at me, but the hatred was focused over my head at Boyd. Obviously, he wasn’t used to losing the girl to a rival.
“Aw, that right?” Boyd cradled the side of my head, his thumb lightly brushing over my ear.
It was way too intimate a gesture—and I liked it way too much—but he was playing along with me, acting the part of my boyfriend.
“I didn’t realize another man was sending my girl text messages. Especially ones she doesn’t want.”
Wow, he was protective. I liked the feeling of not being the responsible one, the one who had to take care of herself, and hell, everyone around her.
It was my job to help people in life and death scenarios, and in this one thing, it felt amazing to hand it off to Boyd.
Crazy, but amazing. I wanted to laugh at Jett, but that would only make things worse.
What if Boyd could be boyfriend material? some silly voice in my head whispered.
But no. I mentally shook off that ridiculous idea. I already knew he couldn’t. He was surrounded by women at the rodeo, and he’d been surrounded when I got to the bar. A guy like that didn’t fall for a dorky small-town doctor like me.
But Boyd was the kind of guy if you gave him an inch, he took a mile, because the next thing I knew, he’d tilted my face up to his and brushed his lips across mine.
My eyes fell closed, and I gave in to the slightest contact. Oh my.
“Happy to be your huckleberry, darlin’,” he murmured.
I flushed and looked to see if Jett was watching, but instead I saw his back as he stalked off toward the pool tables.
I pushed at Boyd’s rock-solid chest. “Thanks, but I think I’m safe now.” Safe from Jett, but not from you.
“He didn’t hurt you, did he? Now or on your date?”
I shook my head. “We went to dinner last weekend. I met him at the restaurant. Nothing happened. I told him I wasn’t interested in more, but he didn’t get the message.”
“Texts? Flowers?”
“Yes. But thanks to you, I think he has the idea now.”
Boyd looked over my shoulder in Jett’s direction. “You have any more trouble with him, I want to know.” His gaze dropped to mine. “You hear?”
Nodding, I replied, “Yes, thanks. For all your help with Jett.”
I turned, scanning the bar for Becky. Music came from a jukebox or speakers somewhere, but a band was setting up on the stage.
Boyd had only loosened his arm around me, but it was still there, keeping my body in close proximity to his.
Very close proximity, as in a piece of paper wouldn’t fit between us.
“Running again? You know, I’m a champion steer roper.
I’m skilled with a lasso and catching things.
” He’d leaned down, so his mouth was right by my ear.
I shivered, not only from his lips brushing over the swirl of my upper ear but from the idea of Boyd tying me up.
I spun about, ready to tell him off, shoving my finger in his chest. Instead, since he’d been bent down to speak, when I turned, his face was right there. Our noses bumped, our mouths almost brushed. He smelled of a hint of soap, no aftershave for him, and the tang of beer.
Maybe it was the shot of tequila or his closeness, but it was suddenly hot in the bar. “I… I didn’t know that,” I replied, unsure of what to say. I couldn’t back up, or I’d bump people behind me. If I moved forward, I’d be kissing Boyd.
No kissing Boyd! I had no idea where those lips had been since yesterday and between my thighs. Oh shit, now I was thinking of those lips on me. There.
A shrill whoop cut through the crowd, and we turned to look where it had come from. Over the heads of the crowd, Becky was riding on what appeared to be a bull. Her arm was flung over her head, and her long hair flew out behind her. No wonder I hadn’t seen her, I’d been looking the wrong way.
“There’s a mechanical bull?” I asked, staring at my friend.
Somehow, I’d missed the bull before now, perhaps because it was in the back of the bar, and no one had been on it.
With Becky sitting on top of it, she could be easily seen over everyone’s heads.
I’d had no idea my friend could ride a bull. At least a fake one.
“Sure is. You want to try?” Boyd had stood to his full height and settled a hand on my shoulder.
“Faster!” Becky shouted and the bull’s pace picked up. She whipped about, then after about two seconds, fell off. I couldn’t see her through the crowd, but I assumed there were big pads for her to land upon.
“Come on, let’s check it out.”
Boyd steered me through the throng to the low rail that separated the mechanical bull from the main bar area.
Becky was pushing herself to her feet on the thick padding that circled the mechanical bull, smiling and laughing.
She gave me a wave then headed toward the bar.
She had to be fairly buzzed to climb on that thing in the first place.
I knew I wouldn’t see her again tonight, playing wingman by staying away from me and Boyd.
Whatever. I focused on the now empty machine.
“No horns,” I observed, and Boyd laughed.
“No horns,” he repeated, rubbing a hand over the spot where he’d been bleeding just the other day. “But it’s still one hell of a ride.” He gave an ear-splitting whistle. “Russell, she’s up next.”
I glanced up at Boyd, who was looking across the cordoned off area to, I assumed, Russell, who was running the controls for the bull. I lifted my gaze and saw he was pointing down at my head.
“What? No way. I can’t go on that thing.” Nervously, I tucked my hair behind my ears.
“Sure, you can.”
I shook my head. “No, Boyd. I can’t.”
He frowned. “Why not?”
His light eyes held mine. He wasn’t joking with me, he seriously didn’t understand.
“I’ll go, Boyd.” A pretty young thing came up to the rail and gave Boyd a I’ll ride the mechanical bull now and show you my moves so I can ride you later look.
She was tall, thin, big boobed and left nothing to hide beneath her clothing choice.
Painted on jeans. A plaid button up that was missing half the buttons and tied in a neat little bow over her bare belly.
A belly that should have a label like cottage cheese that said Fat Free!
“You know I’m good for a wild ride,” she added, as she kicked one leg over the fence.
She straddled it, paused and winked—gag!
—then flung her other over and made her way up and onto the bull.
I could have sworn Boyd growled, but it was hidden a little by my hatred by little Miss Perfect and Slutty. She winked, not at Boyd, but at me.
Yeah, I hated her.
She signaled and the bull started up. She moved with the machine’s forward and backward motion. She’d done this before, but I knew that. She was not a virgin at anything.
People lined the rail to clap and cheer but also to probably watch and see if her breasts popped from the limited confines of her shirt. The ride lasted longer than eight seconds and so did the button dexterity on her top. She climbed down and sauntered our way. Yes, sauntered.
“That’s how it’s done.”
Yeah. Total bitch.
“Want to go for our own ride now, Boyd?” she purred.
Boyd looked to me and shook his head. “Nope. I’ve got what I want right here.”
I couldn’t see her around Boyd’s body, but I heard her huff.
“Don’t you want to go off with her?” I asked.
He frowned down at me, didn’t even look Total Bitch’s way when she stomped off.
“Why would I want to do that?” he asked.
“Um, because she’s gorgeous and is way more skilled than I am.” I wasn’t just talking about riding a bull.
“Oh, when you get going, you’re pretty wild yourself,” he countered, reaching up and stroking my cheek.
I narrowed my eyes at the simple gesture. “Yeah, well. Me, yesterday. Her, today. It’s fine.”
I started to turn away, but he spun me back with a gentle grip on my upper arm. “No, it’s not fine. I think I’ve been pretty clear that I want you. Only you. What makes you think I’m into bed hopping?”
I pushed my glasses up my face and stared at him. “Um, because you do. Bed hop, I mean.”
He rubbed the back of his neck and glanced away. “Okay, in the past. But that was then. This is now.”
“You’re reformed? What, did you hit your head when you fell off that bull?” I wondered.
“When a guy meets the right girl.” He looked over his shoulder and signaled to Russell. “Your turn. I want to see what you’ve got.”
“Boyd, I can’t.”
“Audrey, you can.”
“Boyd, I’m wearing a skirt.”
He looked down. Stared at my skirt. My legs. And stared some more. “Yes, you are.”
“Boyd—” I began, then saw Total Bitch leaning against the rail, smirking. She wasn’t right behind Boyd but close enough that I knew she was waiting for her chance to pounce.
Fine. I couldn’t turn into a supermodel, but I could get on the back of a mechanical bull and show her I had some moves of my own. False pride, for sure. But a woman had to do what a woman had to do.
Maybe Boyd saw the shift in me, the determination, because he set his hands on my hips and lifted me up and over the rail as if I weighed nothing. I stared down the bull as if it were real and not mechanical.
“Climb up there,” Boyd instructed.
I made my way onto the padding, careful not to flash anyone.
Fortunately, my skirt hit just a few inches above my knee, not the tiny Band-Aid sized ones some ladies were wearing.
When I stood beside the bull, I looked over my shoulder.
I had no idea how to get on it. There was no way to toss my leg over, not unless I wanted to chuck my modesty right along with it.
Boyd swung himself over the rail and climbed up beside me. He leaned down and cupped his hands together to make a step. “Put your left foot here, then swing your right over.”
People were shouting and hollering for me to hop on, but Boyd didn’t pay them any attention.
I looked at him for a second, then at his clasped hands.
He wasn’t making fun of me. He was helping.
I wasn’t sure if he wanted me to do this for him or for myself.
I knew I was doing this for myself, not Boyd.
I wasn’t going to feel less than Total Bitch.
I might fall off the stupid fake animal, but at least I tried.
And as long as my skirt didn’t ride up to my waist when I did it, I’d be able to remain in town instead of moving to a different state.
I set my foot in his hold and followed his instructions and was sitting astride the mechanical bull before I could say thanks.
Even though my skirt only drifted up to mid-thigh, I tugged at the hem, then looked around and had a full view of the entire bar.
It was higher up than it seemed from the other side of the railing.
“Good girl,” Boyd said, smiling at me. This smile wasn’t sly. It wasn’t sexy. It was… warm, as if it was a new kind—just for me. “You got this?”
Even though he’d practically goaded me up here, he wasn’t going to make me go through with it. I nodded though. Now that I was sitting on the bull, I wanted to do it. I even heard Becky holler, “Way to go, Audrey! Ride that bull.”
“Nice and slow,” I instructed Boyd. I wasn’t going to pretend I could ride like Total Bitch.
“Yeah, nice and slow is just right.”
He wasn’t talking about bull riding.
His big hand slid down my thigh, from the top half covered in the jean skirt to lower down where the material had ridden up. I felt the callouses, the warmth. In that moment, Boyd wasn’t a cocky rodeo champ. He was Boyd, the man who had eyes only for me.
I took a deep breath and took off my glasses and handed them to him. Besides not wanting them to break, it was probably better not being able to see anything, or anyone.
He stepped back. Only when he was back over the rail did the bull kick in, just like my racing heart. I just had to hope it wouldn’t break when I fell, and I didn’t mean off the bull.