9. Chapter 9
Chapter 9
BERNIE
B eneath the hum of conversation, hooves pranced, tractors rumbled, and the scent of greasy fried foods wafted heavy in the evening air. Sand and dust that had been kicked up beneath boots and tires rested like the morning fog within the arena. The rising bleachers surrounding the oval-shaped stadium blocked the escape of most of the lights. Amongst the outer ring on the far side, away from the crowd that steadily flowed into their seats, waited rows and rows of trucks hitched to trailers. The yellow glow of lights weaved amongst the flood of cowboy hats.
My mom slipped her arm out of the crook of my elbow. “I’ll go find some seats.”
“You want something to eat?” I asked, pausing off the edge of the sidewalk that encircled the outside of the bleachers.
“Some fries might be nice,” she answered and glanced at my little brother.
His eyes darted around like a pinball machine, ignoring the two of us.
“Raiden, are you all right?” my mom asked.
His frenzied gaze snapped to her. “Yes, why do you ask?”
“Looking for someone?” I muttered and raised a brow.
He rolled his eyes and resumed his frantic scan around us.
“It’s Charlotte, right?” Mom quickly said.
Every muscle in Raiden’s body stiffened. Freezing with the realization he’d hid nothing, he slowly focused on our mom. “Is… Is that okay?”
“Of course. She could come sit with us, if you’d like?” She smiled and he sucked his bottom lip between his teeth.
“Thanks, Mom!” He waved and darted away, off to find his girl.
“So.” I inhaled deeply and smiled at my mom. “You sure you just want some fries?”
“Mrs. Phillips!” A gentle voice called out for my mom before she’d had time to answer.
My heart jumped in my chest as I glanced over her shoulder at the woman I knew the voice belonged to.
“Oh, Kat, how are you?” my mom replied, turning to face Kat as she approached.
“I’m great. Emma’s supposed to get here at any moment, and she’ll be in town for a bit before her next work trip takes her away.” Kat stopped beside my mom.
Her hair was braided back with a gray cowboy hat pulled low over her head. A purple button-up hugged her curves and was tucked into jeans that made her ass something I struggled to look away from. The only thing helping me be semi-respectful was the massive buckle she wore.
I could’ve sworn a woman like her only existed in fiction .
My mom smiled gently and tossed a thumb in my direction. “Kat, this is my oldest son, Bernie. He’s—”
“Oh, we’ve already met,” she said, her gaze slipping to me.
“Kat’s gonna show me whatever this bulldoggin’ shit is,” I replied with a grin.
She rolled her eyes as my mom pursed her lips.
“Benjamin,” my mom hissed under her breath.
“Yeah, Benjamin,” Kat taunted, throwing her hands on her hips.
“Yes, ladies?” I smirked, unable to pry my eyes away from Kat. It was a good thing that nobody from the team was here, or I’d be receiving shit by the end of the night. I knew at that moment, as her fingers pressed against her hip leaving dimpled impressions, that my ability to maintain rational thought shot away like a bullet from a gun.
A heavy sigh rushed out of my mom’s mouth. “How did you two meet?”
“Unofficially or officially? Because one of those moments is a little hazy to me.” I pried my gaze away from Kat’s intense stare.
“Which one makes you out to be less of a fool?”
“The one where I bought Muffin.”
“Oh, that’s right!” My mom turned back to Kat. “I don’t know why I completely forgot you volunteer at the shelter.” She paused and furrowed her brows as Kat gave her a small smile. “Do I want to know what the unofficial story is?”
Kat giggled and shook her head. “He hit me with a bottle cap while drunk back in Virginia. ”
“In my defense, Scottie was supposed to have been hit by it, not Kat,” I quickly said and showed my palms in submission as I caught sight of Raiden sauntering out of the shadows, his hand intertwined with a dark-haired young lady.
“Virginia?” My mom furrowed her brows, as my gaze tracked Raiden and his girlfriend.
“Yeah, you know… After the funeral,” I muttered. A shiver danced down my spine, alerting me to the sharp, steely stare of Kat. Her gaze burrowed two icy holes into me as Raiden and Charlotte joined our little group.
“Hi, Kat,” Raiden said.
Charlotte’s brown eyes darted quickly around the group and then landed on mine. She simply stared as Raiden leaned over and whispered something into her ear.
“Well.” I raised a brow at Raiden and finally looked back at Kat. “You owe me my CAC and the promised explanations. Let me hurry and grab some fries for my mom first, though.”
Kat shook her head as Charlotte’s brows stitched together. A hand landed on my arm, drawing my attention away from the woman who had my head fuzzy.
“Go on, I can get myself fries if I want some,” my mom said and then dug her fingers tighter into my arm. “Just, please, don’t do something…rash.”
“Who me?” I pulled my brows together and quickly kissed her cheek. “Never.” I winked and turned back to Kat .
“Seriously, Bernie,” my mom continued, still not releasing my arm. She leaned in close and whispered beneath her breath, “Think before you do, okay? Kat’s family is well-respected and very influential, and I’d like to not make a huge wave. It’s a small town… nothing like our old home.”
“Yes, ma’am,” I replied.
She pinched me one more time before finally releasing her fingers from my arm.
Rubbing at the lingering red marks, I followed behind Kat as she swayed away. Her hips rocked back and forth, begging for me to latch onto them. Aching for me to bury myself inside of her. Taunting me. Asking for me to say something that I knew Kat wouldn’t get.
Yet, I couldn’t stop myself.
“So, Kit Kat, figure it out yet? ’Cause from my view, it seems like you have,” I flirted.
She stopped walking and turned around, her eyes catching mine as a loud voice boomed from the arena speakers, announcing the start of the rodeo. “Figure out what?” she asked.
I grinned, a chuckle rumbling in my chest. “How blunt do you want me to be?”
Kat spun back around and resumed plodding forward, the gravel and dirt beneath her boots crunched as we made our way closer to the side where a pack of horses and riders waited. “Bernie, you are a lot of things, but I think dumbass takes the cake because I seriously don’t know what you’re saying half of the time words come out of your mouth. ”
“Someday you will, Kit Kat. Someday you will,” I replied with a wink and stuffed my hands in my pockets. I doubted she’d even seen the wink, as her back remained to me.
A shift whispered through the air; the sun completely set, and the stadium lights cracked on as she guided me to the edge of the railing. Shrill whistles danced through the air as the bellowing of cattle funneling through the chute became lost behind the booming speakers from the arena.
This view was perfect. Right off to the side of what I learned was the roping box, Kat’s commanding voice talked to me as each event began. Cowboys and cowgirls slipped in and out of the arena, riding on horses that apparently could actually be the color blue.
Half of the words from her mouth sounded foreign, and I knew several languages that weren’t English, so it was fun feeling new at something. A sense of freedom weighed down on my shoulders as she excused herself momentarily and danced over to the chutes to help load a few wayward steers.
A chilling breeze brushed across my shoulders as I watched a woman who barely passed five feet tall command cowboys twice her height and size. I had to admit, I was surprised by her confidence, yet the fire that roared in her soul crackled as brightly as the hottest flame ever recorded.
And damn, what a woman she was.
How strange it was to technically be an outsider. To not be the one in the middle of everything and know exactly what was going on was not something that graced me often, but in this moment, I was. And adrenaline prickled at my fingertips. How exciting this was, especially considering the less I knew, the more excuses I had to keep her attention.
“Lookie what we got here boys,” a voice I knew from somewhere grated through my thoughts of the most enticing woman I had ever seen.
Leaning my forearms against the railing, I glanced away from Kat and caught sight of the same cowboy who’d given me shit walking my way. A beer bottle swung loosely in his hand as a few other guys trailed behind him.
“You know,” he said as he paused directly next to me. “I’m surprised you’d show your face around here after that rather embarrassing moment the other day.”
I furrowed my brows, scanning the lanky man with weathered cheeks and hands, and upturned eyes. “The fuck are you talking about? I don’t even know your name.”
He inhaled deeply and tipped the beer against his chin. “When you fell in shit and screamed like a baby. And it’s Wyatt.”
“Shit’s not the worst thing I’ve landed in. But I didn’t scream like a baby.”
“No?” He glanced at one of his companions and adjusted the cowboy hat on his head. “Oh, that’s right. You just apologized to every damn calf when you cut their nuts off.”
“Yes, I fucking did. I wouldn’t want my balls cut off, so of course I was gonna fucking apologize.” I shook my head and shifted my attention back to the arena as another cowboy dove off his horse and wrapped an arm around the steer’s horns. “Shit, that’s something else. ”
“Yeah, only real men do this stuff. Like me, I’m riding bareback. Carter and Tyson are both entered in saddle bronc,” Wyatt said, and I glanced back at the man who I knew was taunting me.
“What the fuck are you saying?” I turned and crossed my arms over my chest.
Wyatt pushed off the rail with a chuckle. “Stop messing with Kat.”
“I’m not messing with her.” Furrowing my brows, I noted the shifting stances of his two buddies.
“Back the fuck off, is what I’m saying; she’s mine.” The volume in his voice lowered, like a snake slithering toward its prey.
Sliding my teeth back and forth, I smiled to myself. There it was, confirmation that something was going on or at least had gone on between the two of them, though Kat hadn’t seemed to reciprocate it. “But is she? Anyway, she’s just explaining to me all this rodeo shit,” I said with a shake of my head.
“Why are you even trying? It’s not like you’d ever do any of this stuff. You’re just some asshole who thinks he can swoop in and get the girl after just a week. I’m not going to let some idiot ruin what I’ve been working on for three years.” Wyatt raised the beer bottle to his lips and took a swig, his Adam’s apple bobbing beneath the light beard coating his pointed jawline.
“If that was my intention, I’d already have her. I wouldn’t need three fucking years.”
“Oooh, big tough guy are we. Get on a bronc, then.”
“I have nothing to prove to you, man.” I shook my head and dropped my arms from in front of my chest. What the fuck was this man thinking?
“See? You’re a fucking pussy. ”
“Nah, I’m just trying to lay low right now,” I replied with a hiss and turned away. My mom had asked for me to not do anything rash, and getting on a bronc was certainly that. But everything in me tingled, begging me to jump at the chance of trying something as completely reckless as riding a bucking horse.
Ignoring the bubbling of annoyance rolling around in my stomach, I took a step away from him before rational thought left my mind.
His hand slammed around my wrist.
“Don’t you fucking touch me,” I snarled as I whipped around and ripped my wrist out of his grasp. Red-hot rage surged through my veins, and I clenched and unclenched my fists, reining in the frustration gnawing to be let loose. The final flicker of control dimming.
Wyatt’s brows twisted, and he flexed the fingers that’d been holding tightly to my skin. “Get on a bronc.”
“I’m trying to fucking be mature right now, so no.” I turned around and took a couple of steps away from Wyatt.
“I’ll back off from Kat if you get on one,” he called after me.
Pausing, I glanced at the very woman he was talking about. She didn’t need my protection, but if I could offer it in some way that wouldn’t piss her off, especially from someone who was raising my hackles and setting my nerves on end, I would. “You’ll give her some space?”
“Yes. I’ll give her some space,” Wyatt said.
Slowly, I turned back around and caught the fixated gazes of random cowboys seated around us, who’d been watching the conversation .
“Fine. I’ll do it,” I replied. My thoughts were clear. No longer crowded with anything except for the focus of protecting someone who I could. Someone who was still alive.
He leaned his head back, the brown plaid button-up shirt he wore rippling with the movement. “You’re gonna look like such a fucking idiot. You don’t even have a pair of boots.”
“And?” I stalked up to him, stopping within an inch of his face. “I’ll do it in my tennis shoes and T-shirt and still kick your fucking ass.”
Wyatt’s smile faltered for half a second, his dull eyes locked onto mine. “You realize you’ll have to ride for eight seconds to do that, right?”
I grinned, wicked adrenaline that I craved raced through my veins. “You only last eight seconds? Damn, I can’t believe you admitted that out loud. Now I get why you’ve been unable to get Kat after three years. She deserves longer than eight fucking seconds.”
Several chuckles boomed through the air as Wyatt’s cheeks flushed bright red.
“Hey, man,” a random cowboy jumped down from the railing and strutted my way. “You’re gonna at least need a pair of spurs. Why don’t you borrow mine?”
I smiled and nodded but refused to pull my gaze from Wyatt. “I appreciate that.”
He clamped a hand on my shoulder, raising a taunting brow at Wyatt who remained frozen like a gargoyle statue. “I’ll explain to you the basics and get you geared up. Come on. I’m Porter, by the way.”