Chapter 21 #2
He nods slowly, processing that. “She seems nice. Strong, from what I’ve heard. Runs her own business, doesn’t take shit from anyone.” A pause. “You want a partner who can stand up for herself. Someone who won’t crumble when things get hard.”
“She’s all of that and more.”
“Nothing wrong with wanting to settle down, son.” His voice has gone gruff, but there’s something softer underneath. “Have a family. Put down roots somewhere.”
I stare at him. In twenty-nine years, I have never heard my father talk about settling down. Never about anything beyond the next competition, the next town, the next challenge to conquer.
“Would be nice to have some grandkids running around someday,” he adds, almost offhandedly. “Before I’m too old to chase them.”
I genuinely don’t know what to say. The man who raised me on arena dust and motel rooms, who taught me that home was wherever we stopped, is now talking about grandchildren?
“Dad…” I start, but he waves me off.
“Don’t make a big thing of it.” He clears his throat again, the vulnerability obviously making him uncomfortable. “Just saying. If she’s the one, don’t let her slip away. That’s all.”
I think about June, about her laugh, her fire, the way she fits against me as though she was made for exactly that purpose.
“I don’t plan to,” I say quietly.
He nods once, sharp and decisive, and that’s the end of it.
“Anyway. Let’s get to the rodeo. Lots to do.”
We walk to his truck in silence, but it’s a different kind of silence now. Heavier. More meaningful.
The drive to the rodeo grounds takes about fifteen minutes. My father keeps the radio on low, some old country station, and I stare out the window at the Montana landscape rolling by.
Golden fields. Distant mountains. The occasional farmhouse or barn.
He’s right that the riding won’t last forever. Eventually, every cowboy has to hang up his hat and figure out what comes next.
Maybe my next is closer than I thought.
When we pull into the rodeo grounds, the morning is still early. A few crew members are setting up, checking equipment, preparing for the day’s events. The stands are empty, waiting to be filled.
“Gonna go get ready,” I tell my father as I climb out of the truck.
He nods. “Good luck today.”
“Thanks.”
I watch him drive toward the main-office area, then turn and head in a different direction.
I have a stop to make first. I spot Carter’s pickup truck and Kai’s car, so they’re already here. But first, I have something to do.
Joshua is exactly where I expected to find him, in the ticketing booth near the main entrance, organizing his station for the day ahead. He’s a local and has always helped with the circuit when we’re in town, handling admission. He’s always been good to us.
“Seth!” His face breaks into a grin when he sees me. “Been meaning to grab a drink with you. How long you in town?”
“Couple more weeks at least.” I shake his hand, clapping him on the shoulder. “We’ll make it happen. Got some things to sort out first.”
“I heard about the Brutus thing.” He whistles low. “Kai’s either brave or crazy.”
“Little of both.”
We make small talk for a few minutes, catching up on circuit gossip, complaining about the travel schedule, the usual. But eventually, I need to steer the conversation where it has to go.
“Hey, I need a favor,” I ask.
“Name it.”
“Can you pull up the sales numbers in the system? For the last two days.”
Joshua raises an eyebrow but doesn’t ask questions. He turns to his computer, types in a few commands, and swivels the screen toward me. I pull out the figures from Holden, as I’d taken my father’s handout.
The numbers match exactly what Holden showed us this morning.
I frown. “Who has access to this data?”
“Just management and committee leadership. Why?”
“No reason.” I study the screen, thinking. Would Holden alter these numbers to cover his tracks?
The question is, are these numbers accurate, or has he been cooking the books from the start?
“I need you to do something for me,” I say, lowering my voice. “Today, as you process sales, keep a manual record. Paper. Write down every ticket you sell, every transaction that goes through your station. Get the other booths to do the same if you can.”
Joshua’s expression shifts from curious to serious. “You think something’s off?”
“I don’t know yet. That’s what I’m trying to figure out.” I meet his eyes. “Keep this between us, yeah? I don’t want anyone knowing I’m looking into this until I have something concrete.”
“You got it.” He nods.
“Thanks, Joshua. I owe you. And if you can email them to me when you get a chance.” He leans over and jots down his email on his notepad.
Joshua nods. “Buy me that drink and we’re even.”
I leave the ticketing booth and head toward the stables, my mind churning. If the manual count matches the system’s numbers, then maybe I’m wrong. Maybe Holden is just incompetent, not corrupt. I highly doubt that.
I’m almost to the stables when I spot her.
June is standing near the media tent, phone pressed to her ear, her expression intense. Whatever conversation she’s having, it’s serious. I can tell by the way she’s pacing back and forth.
Even worried, she’s beautiful. That dark, curly hair glinting the morning light.
Her gorgeous legs in those tiny denim shorts.
The anger I’ve been carrying all morning softens at the sight of her.
It’s like she has some kind of magic over me, the ability to take the sharp edges of my mood and smooth them into something bearable.
I want to go to her. Want to pull her into my arms and bury my face in her hair and breathe in that lemon-honey scent until the world makes sense again.
But she’s busy. And I have work to do.
So I turn toward the stables instead, stealing one last look over my shoulder.
How the fuck did I get so lucky?
An Omega like her, smart, fierce, beautiful, and she’s mine. Ours. The woman I’ve been waiting for without knowing I was waiting.
Whatever Holden is planning, whatever scheme he’s running, I’m going to uncover it. For the circuit. For my father. For this town.
But mostly for her.
Because June loves this place. And anyone who tries to hurt something she loves is going to have to go through me first.