Chapter 15
Spencer
Riley’s gaze is set on me. Mine is homed in on the tons of rage between my legs. With some compromise, Riley and Ivy are watching me ride. She’ll drive back to the motel after the event. And we’ll take our own vehicles home tomorrow.
Everything about that scenario makes me feel like shit.
“Head in the game, Lockwood!” Levi calls out. Brades is hovering by the chute, concern warping his expression.
What? Do I have distracted dad written all over my face?
“Try to hold on this time, Ken doll,” Knox says, tugging the strapping around Terminator tighter.
Just my luck. On the night I can’t keep a straight head, I draw the meanest bull.
“Oh, and Lockwood. After tonight you can be expecting a call from the Bravos.” Levi is nodding at me with a stoic smile.
I made the cut?
Fuck. Way to get in my damn head, Levi. He probably thought that would get me to focus. Now all I can think of is what Riley said about building my own thing. My first glimpse at the slightest slip of light at the end of a tunnel that’s lined with my family’s baggage and insane expectations.
I double down on tightening my grip in the rope, taking more time than usual. For the first time in a long time, my gut churns.
It’s not only me and my life literally riding on this.
Not any more.
Grip solid and head mostly in the game, I nod to the chute cowboy.
The gate flies open.
Terminator is spinning in the dirt before the next heartbeat falls.
The crowd is a blur as man and beast rotate right, over and over. He is yet to throw a buck, and the clock is flipping up those red numbers fast.
I spur him on, driving him ‘round clockwise, hoping this ride doesn’t change course and throw me off, literally, as my body tenses and holds the action. It would be a disaster if Terminator spun back the other way. Every muscle is ratcheted firm to hold in one direction.
Another lap ‘round, and I start to relax.
My seat is settled to his back, my spur leg working him in a frenzy. So much so, they should rename him Tornado.
A snort loosens spittle and snot from his muzzle.
His shoulder slips.
My gut plummets.
I’m falling forward as Terminator’s head meets the dirt.
Using every ounce of strength I have, I haul my weight upright. The bull’s hind legs kick out and I lean back, into the motion.
His head is up.
The buzzer screams over the arena.
I waste no time ripping my hand free and jumping clear of the two ton that could have very well crushed me.
The crowd goes nuts, cheering as I jog for the fence.
Glancing back, I see Logan and his motley crew have Terminator trotting for the return gate. I take the brief opportunity to release a pent-up sigh before scaling the rails.
It’s only when I look down do I see Riley and Ivy sitting in the third row from the front. The grin that splits my face is ridiculous.
It slips when I see her horrified expression.
The crowd is still cheering as I climb down the fence. With my feet on solid ground, I lean on the fence. “Riley!”
Her gaze doesn’t leave me for a beat. She rises, hugging Ivy to her chest as she excuses herself and navigates the rows of seats.
My hands hang as my heart flings against my ribs.
We’re mere feet apart. But separated by the arena fencing and rows of people, we may as well be miles from each other.
I tug at the helmet straps and lose it from my head. When I look back up, Riley and Ivy are gone.
I tap out a text and send it.
Riley, where did you go?
No reply.
I shove the phone into my back pocket and climb up the rail of chute three to help Knox strap down. I’d rather be anywhere else but helping Kade Knox, but if we all went with that kind of thinking, the circuit would be a shambles.
“Ready for this, Knox?” I ask, as he shifts his weight over Man Hater.
His dark eyes flick up to me. “Whoop this ass in my sleep, Kenny. Watch and learn.”
I roll my eyes at him. Always with the arrogance, Knox. Yours will find you soon enough, bud.
Man Hater is a solid draw. Nothing like Terminator, but just as formidable. Each bull seems to have their specialty when it comes to their methods of getting us off their backs and fucking us over.
Hadley lived through the worst of them a year or so back.
After an epic last ride that saw him on top at the end of the Pbr season, he’s retired from the sport to run his ranch. But he’s here most weekends, Maggie by his side, and always lends a hand.
To be honest, I think he would miss us too much.
I’m lost in my reverie when the chute pulls. Standing on the rails, I watch as Kade lays into Man Hater like the feeling is mutual.
I’ll give him this, he’s one hell of a bull rider.
Heading down and off the chute, the buzzer goes off as I turn to find Levi standing with the Bravos head coach.
“Lockwood. Impressive ride tonight.” The coach extends his hand.
I shake it with a wide smile. “Thanks, man.”
“A spot on the team is yours this year, if you don’t have any other offers.” The older man, his hair greying under a cream Stetson, waits enthusiastically.
“Yeah, that sounds great. Happy to be part of the Bravos, sir.”
“Wonderful! I’ll email you the paperwork for this season.” He slaps me on the shoulder and shakes his head. “It’s going to be a hell of a season this year.”
“Yes, sir.” I’m beaming at him.
One of my most important boxes just got ticked.
Fuck yeah.
Levi slaps my shoulder as they walk off, discussing something else.
When I turn back, Brades is waiting by the rail where our gear bags sit in the dirt.
“Bravos?” he asks.
“Yep, you?” I unbuckle my chaps and slide them from my hips.
“Same, brother. Another year to whoop your ass.”
I chuckle. “You’ll keep, Brades. Keep telling yourself you stand a chance, bud. Wouldn’t want to see that soft heart of yours take a hit.”
He shakes his head with a chuckle and tosses his gear into his bag. With the event winding up the bull riding portion of the night, I have no plans of sticking around for the after-party.
Not this time.
“You turnin’ in early, or up for a drink?” Brady asks.
My phone buzzes in my pocket.
I slide it out.
Riley.
At the motel. Ivy is asleep. Good night.
I can feel the fuck-you vibes all the way down the phone line.
Christ.
I thought Stace was hard to negotiate with. She’s got nothing on this fiery little Irish woman. Stubborn ass, she is.
What was the silent exit about? What the hell was that stoney expression on her face masking?
“Spence?”
“Ah, not this time, bud.”
“Got woman problems?”
“Not sure, but I’ll check in anyway. Make sure Ivy’s good.”
Brady leans over, reading the text.
“You sure that’s a good idea?” His eyebrows are raised like I’m the crazy one.
“At this point, I don’t have a choice. I won’t be able to sleep until I make sure she’s okay.”
“We still talking about the baby?” Brady’s face twists in a playful smile.
“Fuck you, Brades.”
“I don’t think fucking me will solve your problem, Spence. Not Irish enough.”
He plucks up his gear bag, presumably heading for his truck. I’m left staring at his receding back as the heat in my airless lungs turns burning.
Snapping my mouth shut, I run a hand through my messy hair.
My body hums to life with the thought of ending my night with Riley. I’m daydreaming out a scenario of meeting her fire, my hands on her face, our mouths mere inches apart. Her body pressed to mine . . .
“—ockwood?”
Hey, what? I spin back to find Knox pulling off his Tiffany glove, nodding at the ground. “Move it, Cowboy Ken, your glitter is getting all over my gear bag.”
I glance down to find Kade’s gear bag at my feet. I’ve wandered forward in my mindless state. I clear my throat and stalk back to my bag, grabbing it up from the dirt.
“What’s got you rattled?” Logan says, sliding his hat from his face. The clown makeup and his ridiculous painted-on oversized smile is smudged, making his face look deranged.
Or maybe it’s me.
Catching feelings for the live-in nanny who’s leaving for Northern Ireland at the end of the year is not exactly smart.
But nobody has ever accused me of being that.
My stomach is in knots as I stand outside room twenty-four at the Highway Motel in Marwayne.
Riley’s car is parked in the spot outside the door. The front-facing window to the room is lit with a dim orange light. Most likely the bedside lamp she’s left on in case Ivy wakes.
I can’t go back to the event grounds. I can’t go to sleep knowing something has her upset. I need to make sure they are both alright.
I raise a fist to the door, but I don’t make contact with the hard surface before it opens six inches. I slide the hat from my head and wait.
“I sent you a text, Spencer. Ivy is asleep.”
Everything about this feels wrong.
I shift on my feet. A man’s never been so goddamn humbled.
“Rile—”
She holds up a hand. “I don’t want to talk about it tonight. I’m exhausted, and I don’t want to wake Ives.”
“Can I see her for a second?”
Why am I asking?
Riley sighs. “Sure.”
She steps back, and I push the door open and slip inside.
The bassinet Ivy is too big for sits empty on the floor. Ivy is asleep on the single bed, towels rolled and slid under the bottom fitted sheet to create a makeshift barrier so she doesn’t roll out of bed. Smart.
I pad to where Ivy sleeps. She looks perfect.
Content and safe. Happy, even, as her little face twitches with whatever dream she’s having. She sucks on her pacifier for a short burst, and then it falls from her mouth.
I reach for it.
Fine fingers close around my wrist. “Leave it, Spencer.”
Riley is by my side, her robe hugged around her elegant body, her long, dark hair spilling over her shoulders as she pulls my hand away from the baby.
My body is picking up where it left off behind the chutes, that hum surging to life with Riley in my space.
Fuck me.
I take a step forward and Riley takes one back, her grip still on my wrist.
I dip my head, gaze searching her face like what happened earlier will simply be written there.
“Talk to me, O’Malley.”
Her breaths crash out as she tilts her head up.
“No, not now.” The words are strung out.
“Something’s not right. Everything about this weekend is different, and I can’t tell if it’s good different or bad different.”
Her face wars with a multitude of emotions before she swallows. “I can’t talk to you about this, Spencer.”
“Why not?” I growl.
I take another step and she takes two back, the back of her legs hitting the bed.
Checkmate, O’Malley.
I eat up the distance between us in a heartbeat and cup her face in my hands.
Fuck it.
“You can either tell me what the hell has you so wound up, or you can kiss me.”
Shock contorts her face.
“Your choice, Riley.”