Chapter 53
I’m a planner. Planning makes things easy. I know when they will happen, and I have control of what those things will be. But all the planning in the world would never have convinced me I’d be here in a moment where someone picked me.
I believed my whole life that at the end of the day people liked comfort, they liked sticking to what they know, and, most importantly, they liked to pick themself no matter what.
The root of their actions, even if they seemed to be in your favor, always revolved back around to what they could gain.
This isn’t one of those times. Rhett, doesn’t care about the love he has for a rider he’s looked up to his whole life, nor does he care about his reputation and what potentially making a scene might mean for him.
I don’t think he’s thinking about the possibility of a scene at all.
His heart is so pure and genuine, I know without a doubt in my mind that all he’s thinking about is me.
And for the first time in my entire life, I know what it feels like to be chosen… To be loved.
I’m now surrounded by our friends and Rhett’s family.
My heart feels whole. We all grip the steel bars as we await Rhett’s final ride of the year, the ride that determines whether or not he makes it to PAbrA.
I want this for him so badly it hurts. He deserves the world, and I wish I could give him this win, as well as anything else his heart ever wanted, because he’s done that for me.
“Ladies and gentleman, let’s give a warm welcome to our final rider of the night.
A champion who came back from a nasty accident earlier this year.
One who has taken the last several events by storm.
Bring those hands together for Rhett Rogers.
” The announcer’s voice circulates throughout the arena, the pep in his voice making it obvious he’s just as excited to see this ride as all the people cheering in the stands.
I notice as Lettie clutches Henry’s hand, squeezing tight the moment they make contact. I’m sure she’s nervous. Hell, I’m nervous too. I can’t help but wonder if this is tradition. If every time he’s ever performed she’s been worried, or if fear has set in since his accident.
“Now, as y’all know, we’ve been doing today’s competition a little differently. Drawing from a pot of bulls as the riders turn approaches, rather than at the beginning of the competition.” He forces his hand into the pot and I hold my breath.
Henry pulls Lettie closer to his chest and kisses her forehead. A move Rhett has made time and time again for me. My lips curve up into a small smile, knowing that this is the type of love he’s been raised on and the same type of love he gives.
The announcer removes his hand from the jar, leaning his head back slightly as if he can only see the slip of paper if he scrunches his nose, and looks through the bottom of his glasses.
He clears his throat. “Helfire,” he announces the name, and my stomach drops.
Oh God. It’s the bull that hurt him. What if he gets in his head?
I meet Lettie’s gaze and find worry gleaming in her usually warm stare.
Without even thinking, I place her hand in mine, squeezing tight.
And even though she doesn’t smile, she squeezes my hand right back in reassurance.
“He’s got this.” Her words are laced with certainty, like she’s doing her best to convince the both of us not to be scared.
My eyes force their way toward the exit of the locker room. To the right are the announcers, and to the left is the sound table. Rhett clears the doorway and everyone erupts in praise.
Duke whistles loud before screaming, “All the way to hell and back, Buddy. Go get ‘em, Rogers.” His voice is strong and sure, he seems unfazed by this selection, and I hope that his brother is feeling the same.
My eyes follow Rhett’s every move, looking for any kind of insight into his emotions.
But as usual, he’s all cool, confident, with a bright smile on his face.
The one I know so well and continue to fall head over heels for.
He stops at the sound table, taking a moment to laugh with the guy in charge.
There’s not a trace of nervousness. You’d never think that Helfire and him have history.
He looks calm, relaxed even. Knowing him, he’d call this a lucky pull, but to me this is extra nerve-wracking.
Music begins to play and laughter fills the room as Bon Jovi’s The Boys Are Back In Town hums through the speakers.
Our entire posse finds the satire in his song choice, and for a second I’m less worried as I watch the man that has my whole heart do a little jig towards the chute.
“Very Rhett,” Sawyer chuckles.
And he’s right. Rhett would have it no other way than making light of something everyone else fears.
A crowd of women, undoubtedly, find themself hooting and hollering as Rhett strides past them.
Months of knowing him sets my mind at ease.
A worry I thought would be permanent from now until the end of time is now just a reminder that the right man won’t make you feel insecure, but rather the opposite.
He keeps his eyes forward, lost in whatever sets his mind straight for the ride. It’s almost as if he is no longer here with us, but rather in his own secret garden in his mind. Maybe even the one he brought back to life for me.
I watch as he arrives at the chute, swinging his legs over the bar to mount the bull, finally making eye contact with the only person who must matter to him in that moment—the guy who opens the gate.
In a split second, my stomach drops back to the floor as the sound of metal creaks open. I grip the bars in front of me.
I’ve seen people ride bulls, but this is the first time I’ve had real feelings for the man on top of one.
The bull takes off like lightning. A living, breathing storm—so strong, everyone seems to fear it.
Myself included. The earth all but trembles with each pound of his hooves into the sand.
I can’t fathom the strength it takes to hold on.
Each spin leaves me gripping the bar in front of me tighter.
White-knuckled, I stand there holding my breath, hoping, praying that he not only makes his ride, but most importantly, that he does so safely.
The seconds feel like an eternity, and I can’t help but be in awe of the man before me.
Each spin, each buck, every movement looks second nature to him.
It’s plain to see this is where he truly shines.
This is the only other place that brings him to life.
The buzzer cuts through the arena, so loud it startles me from my thoughts.
He did it! Oh my God, he did it. Rhett slips his hand from the bullrope and slides off, hitting the ground running.
In a flash, he’s off to the side of the arena faster than when he came into it.
Applause erupts among the crowd and the announcer bounces from his seat, whipping his hat up in the air as he screams into the microphone, “He’s done it, he hit 93. 4!”
Cheering comes from every inch of the arena, and Duke practically leaps so high he could clear the steel gates himself.
Just as fast as he went in, Hellfire is led out of the arena and back into the safe confines of a corral all his own.
Everything around me is mass chaos, but I find solace in watching Rhett, who is now safe.
The prize is brought in just as swiftly, but as Rhett removes his hat to see his score, he lets out a celebratory sound and doesn’t head toward the winner’s circle, but instead straight for me.
My heart feels like it might pound out of my chest, still elated that he accomplished what he set out to, but now confused at why he’s headed the wrong direction.
I glance up at the monitor, noting the cameraman still following his every move.
My stare snaps back to him, his gaze meeting mine, and I’m pulled into those warm eyes.
Pure joy flows from him as he whips his hat in the air like the true show boat he is.
I wonder if he knows that his prize waits for him at the other end of the arena or if his excitement has just distracted him.
“What are you doing?” My brows furrow but I’m unable to hide the smile on my face. He doesn’t answer fast enough so I add, “Go get that trophy Casanova, you won!”
“I sure did.” He climbs the rungs in front of me and I lean toward him.
It’s like we’re two magnets, drawn to one another.
“But that ain’t the prize, Angel. You are.
He grips my chin, his dark brown eyes boring into me with a warmth I’ve never felt before.
"You’re all I ever think about. The rush of being with ya, the way it feels to kiss that pretty smile of yours…
I love you, Kaylee." The words bounce from his lips with pure, passionate joy.
“I love you too,” I respond without missing a beat, because he is the love of my life. The person who makes me feel whole, and the man I want not just now, but forever.
He pulls me in for a kiss. I take in the warmth of his lips and his tongue as it intertwines with mine. And I realize in the moment he was meant to find his trophy, he found me instead.