Chapter 12
CHAPTER
TWELVE
Destry.
The past couple of days I had fallen into a comfortable rhythm with Savvy. One I hadn’t seen coming.
Days at the rodeo, watching her work and catching moments where she let her guard down just enough to remind me I wasn’t the only one feeling this pull between us.
Nights at my ranch, where she practiced until her legs burned, pushing herself hard. When she was done, we’d sit out under the stars, sometimes talking, sometimes not, and eventually, she’d end up at my house in my bed. The space between us disappeared more and more.
She fit into my world too damn easily, like she had been meant to be there all along, but today I was back in competition mode, standing near the chutes, preparing for my next qualifying ride.
I adjusted my glove and kept my breath even as I focused on the bull in the pen ahead of me.
The crowd was loud as hell and the energy was pulsing, but I tuned it out. I had one goal. Stay on the damn bull, make the time, move forward. That was the plan, or at least it was until I saw her.
Savvy walked past, completely in her own world, focused on whatever task she was doing but I reached out, grabbed her around the waist, and pulled her in close, grinning as she squealed in surprise.
“You coming to see me ride?” I asked, keeping her firmly against me.
“No.”
I lifted a brow. “No?”
She shrugged playfully. “I haven’t watched any of your qualifying rides. Why start now?”
I leaned in just enough to brush my lips against her ear. “Because I want you to.”
“Maybe,” she mumbled, slipped out of my grip and walked off, leaving me standing there grinning like a damn fool.
Unfortunately I couldn’t chase her. I had a bull to ride. I headed back to the arena and I climbed into the chute. Everything else faded away and my focus was locked in. The bull beneath me, Iron Fist, was already restless. I could feel his muscles twitching as his nostrils flared and he kept digging his hooves into the dirt.
I adjusted my grip on the rope and tightened my hold. I flexed my fingers and shifted. My heartbeat slowed and my body settled into that familiar pre-ride calm.
Then I saw her.
Savvy.
She walked up to the fence and casually leaned against the gate with her arms crossed and eyes on me. I smirked, tipped my hat and winked, but quickly let my focus snap back to the ride.
The gate opened.
The world narrowed.
Iron Fist kicked hard, launching forward, and I moved with him, allowing my body to jerk with control, anticipating his shifts before he made them.
Two seconds.
He made a sharp twist to the left and I adjusted.
Four seconds.
The bull reared back with his legs shooting up, but I stayed firm and my muscles locked, keeping my weight balanced.
Six seconds.
Then, it happened.
My grip slipped.
The bull bucked harder than expected and my gloved hand jerked loose just enough to throw off my balance. Before I could correct the slip I launched forward. I hit the dirt hard and a cloud of dust lifted around me, but before I could process the fall, I heard the thunder of hooves coming back around.
I rolled.
Fast.
The bull came back, ready to trample right over me, but I moved quickly, barely missing the stomp, then he was back again and I barely managed to roll out of the way, dodging him for a second time. My body moved purely on instinct until the wranglers got in, distracting the bull enough for me to get clear.
When I finally pushed up to my feet, the arena was dead silent because the ride was over. I had just lost that qualifying round and no one expected that. I damn sure didn’t.
Jace jogged up with his expression hard. “You good?”
I waved him off with a tight jaw. “Yeah.”
He studied me for a second but nodded. Before I could process anything else, I heard a smug voice behind me.
Colt.
“Damn, that bull didn’t like you very much. Didn’t think I’d see you hit the dirt that early.”
I didn’t even look at him. I shouldered past him hard, knocking him off balance as I stormed out of the arena with my pulse still pounding. I barely heard the noise behind me. My jaw was tight and my hands were clenched because my mind and body were still processing the fall. Losing damn sure didn’t sit right with me but it never did.
Didn’t matter that I’d been doing this for years or that I knew damn well not every ride was gonna be perfect, it still fucking annoyed me.
I paced near the side of the arena, brushing my hands over my head, trying to shake off the frustration. My thoughts were all over the damn place, stuck between replaying the ride and knowing there wasn’t a damn thing I could do to change it.
Then I saw her.
Savvy.
She took her time getting to me, like she wasn’t sure if I wanted company right now but I didn’t hesitate. I reached for her, grabbed her by the waist, and pulled her into my chest, kissing her hard and deep, pouring all the adrenaline, frustration, and something else I wasn’t ready to admit into this kiss. That bull could have trampled me and my thoughts were a lot deeper than just losing a ride.
She kept her hands on my chest, but didn’t pull away or push me off. When I finally pulled back, she blinked up at me, completely thrown off.
Her voice was breathless when she spoke. “What are you doing?”
“Kissing you and if you don’t know that, then I must be really fucking bad at it.”
“No, I mean, why?” She shook her head, still looking confused. “You just lost a qualifying round.”
I laughed, shaking my head. “Yeah, I know.”
She frowned. “Aren’t you upset?”
I dropped my chin. “I’m fucking pissed. But being upset isn’t gonna change the fact that I hit the dirt out there.”
Her expression twisted and something flashed in her eyes…panic.
“Shit, this is my fault,” she whispered.
I frowned, immediately annoyed by that. “How the hell is it your fault?”
She frowned hard. “You’ve been with me these past few nights, we’ve been?—”
I kissed her again just enough to make her stop overthinking for once.
When I pulled back, I pressed my forehead to hers and dug my fingers into her hips.
“It’s not your fault. Every ride isn’t gonna be perfect. I won’t always win. I know that. The most important thing is that I walked out of that arena and didn’t have to be carried out.”
She swallowed, her hands gripping my shirt. “But you lost…”
“Did I?”
She frowned, confused.
I studied her face, taking my time. “Remember when I told you I wanted something real? Something forever?”
She nodded.
“That’s not in there,” I said, jerking my chin toward the arena. “You’re only as good as your last ride, and even though that’s not my last one, it could’ve been.”
Her frown deepened. “Then what do you have?”
“Shit, I guess I haven’t been clear.”
I cupped her face and moved my thumb over her cheek, watching the way her lashes fluttered.
“What I have is you. That’s if you’re okay with being mine.”
She blinked, completely still, and for a second, I wasn’t sure if she was gonna run or agree but she smiled, she shook her head and my fucking heart dropped.
“No…I’m not opposed.”
Oh fuck. “Good to hear.”
I stole one more kiss. “Now, let me go do the rounds. Getting thrown off that bull likely pissed off a lot of sponsors. I have to smooth that over.”
“Good luck with that.”
“It’s not luck I need, sexy.”
I walked away knowing damn well losing that ride didn’t fucking matter as much as what I’d just won.