7. Priya
CHAPTER 7
PRIYA
We make our way into the lobby of the Saddle Suites, hand in hand. Inside we find Bowen’s older brother, Alex, his girlfriend, Cassidy, and her young son, Connor, waiting for us.
Everything looks perfect for the VIPs tonight, the elegant setting, the excited buzz in the air, and even the illusion of my relationship with Bowen. On the surface, we’re the perfect couple. I have to keep reminding myself that it isn’t real because Bowen is impossibly charming.
Playing this game with him is like playing with fire. The spark between us is undeniable. I already know that when it inevitably ignites, I’ll be willing to risk everything I’ve built for him. That’s exactly how I got into this mess in the first place.
Still, being the woman in Bowen’s life, even if it’s all a charade, is intoxicating. I’ve never met anyone who makes me feel like every nerve in my body is awake for the first time.
“They’ve arrived. Everyone’s in a room now waiting on luggage delivery. We’re off to the races and right on schedule. Some of us are on schedule,” Alex says, his tone gruff as he levels a look at Bowen.
Cassidy rolls her eyes, her smile warm and forgiving. “We’re all here now,” she says lightly.
“We had things to do on our way in.” Bowen lifts my hand to his mouth and presses a slow, deliberate kiss to the back of it.
There’s nothing hesitant about the gesture. I’m not sure if it’s meant for me or if it’s a response to Alex. But I can feel my heart race and butterflies flap wildly in my stomach either way.
Nothing like jumping in with both feet.
Cassidy’s gaze flicks to our interlaced hands, and she bites back a smile of pure joy and approval. In contrast, Alex’s expression hardens as he narrows his eyes at his brother, a silent message passing between them.
Whatever it is, I can only assume those daggers are meant for Bowen and not me. I like Alex. He’s one of the more reasonable Kingridge brothers as far as I’m concerned.
As we settle in, Alex and Cassidy catch us up on the day’s activities. It’s a whirlwind of calf roping, a private trail ride, and an elegant five-star meal planned at The Velvet Spur. Jolts of electricity keep pulsing through me with Bowen’s every touch and he doesn’t stop touching me.
Not that I’m complaining. My only worry is the love hangover I’m going to feel when I return to reality after this night is over and Bowen goes back to treating me like a coworker.
“Are you two boyfriend and girlfriend?” Connor’s question cuts through the chatter, his wide eyes blinking up at us with the innocent curiosity only a child can muster.
“You better believe we are.” Bowen grins and winks at him, tightening his grip on my hand.
“So you like to kiss her?” Connor asks, his voice both curious and unfiltered.
Heat floods my cheeks, and I’m momentarily at a loss. Before I can fumble for a response, Cassidy steps in, gently guiding Connor away.
But not before Bowen’s deep, unhurried voice answers, “Oh yeah, I do.” He squeezes my hand again, and the warmth of his touch makes it hard to breathe.
“Gross,” Connor declares with a shrug, and I can’t help but laugh.
I glance at Connor, who’s moved on with the easy resilience of a child, and think of his father—the mayor of Sagebrush Creek, Randolph Bellcourt. Connor seems to have inherited none of his father’s stiff, awkward presence. Instead, he’s all charm. He’s a burst of laughter and life that lights up every room he enters.
Somehow, I make it through the morning without a single sighting of Gunner Thompson. Despite the lingering tension in the air, the trail ride passes without incident, and everyone on staff pulls out all the stops to ensure everything runs smoothly.
The ranch feels alive with energy, a seamless blend of activity and anticipation that helps me push Gunner from my thoughts, at least for now.
By late afternoon, the excitement has reached a fever pitch as the Southern Knights football team squares off against the Kingridge brothers for a friendly calf roping competition.
I walk out after it’s started. The air is charged with competitive spirit, laughter, and the low hum of country music drifting from nearby speakers. The setting sun casts a golden glow over the arena.
As I get into earshot, Callum walks the group through the rules and explains roping strategies with easy confidence. His voice carries across the arena. “Alright, gentlemen. Time to see if all that muscle translates to cowboy shit. Let’s see who’s got what it takes to rope like a pro.”
The football players exchange playful jabs, adjusting their hats and rolling their shoulders as they square up to the challenge. Meanwhile, Bowen and the other Kingridge brothers stand off to the side, watching with practiced ease. There’s a calm confidence about them, but it isn’t without bravado.
I had no idea that so much ego could fit in one arena. The thought makes me laugh.
Then I feel it. A distinct prickling of awareness makes the hair on the back of my neck stand up. I can sense Gunner’s eyes on me before I even see him. My pulse quickens, and when I finally meet his gaze, he is ready.
Gunner flashes me a confident grin that sends a ripple of irritation through me. I force myself to respond with a tight-lipped smile but the man doesn’t even deserve that much.
Never one to let an opportunity for a spectacle slip by, Gunner lifts his sleeve, flexes his bicep, and plants a kiss on the bulging muscle. He completes the delivery with a wink in my direction. His expression is full of smug self-satisfaction. The gesture turns my stomach.
If there was any question as to why the Southern Knights are here of all places, Gunner’s ridiculous display solves the mystery. He’s here to show off and to make sure I don’t forget that he holds all the power. Now that his girlfriend is gone, he’s ready for me to pick up the pieces.
There’s no way in hell.
I shift my focus back to Bowen and lean into the giddiness that flutters up inside of me. He stands tall and steady with an easy confidence that Gunner will never possess.
As the first calf bolts from the chute, the competition kicks off with a roar of cheers and applause. It dawns on me that every single woman in Sagebrush Creek is probably here… And that’s fair. There’s a lot of mouthwatering dudes wandering around. But none quite as charming as Bowen.
Lariats spin through the air, boots stomp in the dust, and the arena is filled with the thrill of competition. The line between athlete and cowboy blurs as both teams give it their all, determined to outdo each other in skill, speed, and sheer grit.
Pa Kingridge appears beside me with Danner. Seeing the two of them next to each other makes it impossible to not believe the gossip. Danner looks just like the other Kingridge boys. Sure the accent is missing and there isn’t an ounce of Southern charm… But the genes are undeniable.
The guys haven’t exactly been welcoming to Danner, but Pa isn’t helping. Both Pa and Danner are insisting that Danner has come on board because of an interest in conservation and organic farming. The story has holes all over it, but I’m certainly not going to be the one to connect the dots.
“Hey,” I give them a wave.
“Hi,” Danner says. “First time watching calf roping. I’m ready to see what it’s all about.”
“Me too actually. It’s been interesting so far,” I let out a chuckle.
“Priya, girl, I’ve got a hundred big ones that say my boys take them players right down. Ain’t no chance of them Kingridge boys being beat on home turf.”
The old man smiles as he pulls a bill out of his pocket. “Pa, you know that’s a bet I can’t take. I’d never bet against Bowen, not in any arena.”
Pa lets out a laugh. “I’m gonna go find that little Connor. He’ll take the bet so long as his mama doesn’t hear me. She’ll get my goat for teaching him to gamble.”
“Wow,” Danner mumbles as much to himself as to me or Pa. “I feel so bad for the calf. How is PETA not out here? This is crazy.”
An hour in and I’m swept up in the spectacle of competition all along with everyone else. I take in the sight of Bowen’s broad shoulders as he steps up to take his turn. I watch the confident way he handles the rope and feel the warmth spread through my chest as he glances my way before he launches into action. A very specific image of Bowen using that rope on me in a bedroom flashes in my mind… I don’t hate it.
As the competition wraps up, Bowen makes his way toward me and I rush to meet him. But to my horror, Gunner stops him. The two men face each other and whatever words are exchanged between them don’t look friendly. It puts me on edge and I approach them with caution.
“There she is,” Bowen takes a step toward me and plants a kiss on my forehead. He takes my hand in his and positions his body between Gunner and me.
Gunner cuts his eyes at Bowen, less than impressed. Then turns his attention to me. “We need to talk.”
“I don’t want to talk,” I reply.
“You heard her. We’re all good here. There won’t be any talking.” Bowen doesn’t miss a beat. “But hey, maybe we’ll catch you at dinner, bud.” Bowen turns and I follow him until Gunner’s voice breaks my stride.
“So you moved to a farm and now you’re like what, a trad wife who doesn’t speak for herself? Pri, I never thought you had that in you. What a waste. I’ll let your dad know. He says he doesn’t hear much from you these days and that makes two of us. Imagine turning your back on the two most important men in your life over some cowboy.” Gunner’s voice is laced with sarcasm.
I turn back to face him. “Great, let my dad know that as it turns out, being with a real man made me into a real woman. And yeah, this guy gets anything he wants from me if that’s what you’re asking.” I return the gesture of a wink to Gunner then run my hand down the front of Bowen’s chest.
Gunner rolls his eyes and mumbles something about talking after dinner. But it’s Bowen's cocky smile and the way his body tenses in response to my touch that has my mind racing.