13. Beau
Chapter 13
Beau
T his rodeo ain’t like the others and that’s a good thing. That last one was bullshit when it came to Ram’s score. He deserved better. We all knew that. Hell, even my little outsider knew that, and she don’t know shit about rodeo. The only thing that had kept me from storming over to the judges had been Ram’s stern look at me.
Bastard. He plays by the rules too much.
Not like me. Not like Tripp. Dear old Rammie likes to play caretaker for the two of us. Someone’s gotta tell him at some point it’s a lost cause. Ain’t gonna be me though. I like him taking care of me.
Like the big brother I never had.
La Fiesta De Los Vasquez is a nine-day rodeo in Tucson, Arizona. The chill in the desert air during the day doesn’t compare to the cold at night, but at least it’s not snowing right now. The cold makes my bones ache. The cold makes me a hint too slow when it comes to my tricks.
Slow gets you killed.
The moment we get to the fairgrounds, I look for her, a desperation to see her face deep in my chest. I shouldn’t be so attached so quickly, but I’ve never been one to shy away from a risk. And Indie Chen has hooked me so deeply in my soul, I won’t stop until I can taste her. Fuck, do I want to taste her.
“Try not to look like such a lovesick puppy,” Tripp grumbles at me, clearly in a mood.
“Try not to look like a drunk asshole,” I fire back. “Oh, wait. You can’t.”
“Children, children,” Ram chastises. But he’s looking for her, too. At least I’m not the only one intrigued by the retired war correspondent. There’s just something about her that I can’t shake. Clearly Ram feels it, too. It’s not very often that we have similar taste in women.
I don’t see her standing with the other press, but that doesn’t surprise me. They don’t take too kindly to someone like Indie joining their ranks. The rodeo circuit is a closed circle and anyone who doesn’t fit in don’t belong there. Funny enough, we don’t fit inside that circle either, but ain’t no one telling The Crimson Three no. That would be fucking stupid.
Ram and Tripp disappear to fill out some paperwork, so I’m left to trail around the arena, searching for any sight of my little outsider’s black hair. She only shows up an hour later, which is strange. She typically beats us here, so I’m worried that something could have happened to her at that shitty motel. Maybe I should go and check it out later, make sure it’s safe. Make sure no one’s going to break into her room and stab her. The place she’s staying in looks like that kind of thing happens a lot.
Why the fuck would her magazine set her up in such terrible accommodations?
She doesn’t notice me right away. Her eyes are on the arena, watching as the tractor runs around the dirt, prepping it for the event. That same tractor will run out there all night, making sure the dirt is free of potholes that’ll lame a horse.
The other rodeo clowns are off to the side, chain smoking while they wait for their job to start. Like Indie, I don’t fit in with the crowd I should. They don’t like me. I’m too young, too risky, too much of a character. But I’ll be damned if I ever change.
As Indie moves, I notice a small limp. She favors her right leg, standing in a way to ease the weight on the left. I frown, watching closely as she reaches into her pocket and pulls out a pill bottle. She shakes out two pills and pops them in her mouth, swallowing.
“Anything good?” I tease as I appear beside her.
She jumps, and it makes me grin to see I’ve snuck up on her so thoroughly. I live for her being off center. “Fuck,” she says, pressing her hand to her chest. “You scared the shit out of me.” But then she holds up the bottle. “No. Just pain pills. Nothing fun.”
“Bummer,” I say, eyeing the bottle as she tucks it away. “You in pain?”
She shrugs. “The mattress sucks at the motel is all. Nothing a few pills can’t fix.”
The way she refuses to look me in the eyes though tells me she’s lying. Indie Chen, war reporter, unable to look a rodeo clown in the eyes as she lies about her pain. Who’d have thought? I take note of the side she favors and file that information away for later.
“You’re gonna love this rodeo,” I tell her. “They score Ram properly.”
“Oh, good,” she replies. “That last one was bullshit.”
“It was,” I nod, pleased that she agrees with me. “He’s doing bareback and saddle on this one.”
“Both?” she says, her brows shooting up. “He can handle that?”
I grin. “Oh, little outsider. You have no idea what we can handle,” I purr, stepping closer to her. When her breath hitches, a shiver runs through me at the realization that she’s not as immune as she tries to be. “Let me happen to you, Indie,” I rasp. “I’d do dark, depraved, and slutty thing to be your good boy.”
Her eyes widen. “I bet you say that to all the buckle bunnies,” she breaths.
“The buckle bunnies?” I shake my head. “No. They don’t require much talkin’. You on the other hand?” I touch my hand to a strand of her hair, watching as it runs through my fingers. “I’d get on my knees for you.”
In the background, I can hear the announcer saying my name, introducing me. My cue. Indie stares at me through her straight lashes, her cheeks flushed.
“They’re calling for you,” she murmurs.
A spotlight hits us, and she steps back immediately, hiding from the attention, putting distance between us. I miss her being close to me immediately, but I can put on a good show regardless.
I grin at her. “Watch me put on a show for you, little outsider.”
“It’s not for me. It’s for the crowd,” she says, her eyes scanning the packed stadium.
“No,” I argue. “This one is definitely for you.”
Despite the lights on me, I adjust my crotch, and her eyes drop to my movements, widening when she realizes I’ve got a massive hard on. It’s for her. Fuck, it’s painfully hers. I step out onto the dirt, still hard as a rock, and the crowd goes fucking wild.
As they should for the likes of Beau fucking Rogers.