Epilogue | Harlow
In.
Out.
In.
Out.
I steady my breathing, my heart rate slowing as I start to rein in my focus and shuffle through my memory box of things I need to remember to keep them on a repetitive loop before and after I have a thousand pounds of power and rage bucking between my thighs.
Lap Dancer was the bull I drew for the championship round—a bull known for the number of buck-offs he’s had in his career.
He is a monster. A beast. My final ride of this season, which could determine if I walk away with the buckle and the glory or strut out of the arena with my head held high because I’m giving it my all out there, fighting for this dream.
The crowd is bigger than last year, but for some reason, the constant hum and roar that echoes through the space doesn’t ring in my ears and taint my bloodstream like it used to.
Lap Dancer is going to give me one hell of a ride, but I’m ready for it. Ready to dance with him out on that dirt as we try to tame each other.
I open my eyes, my gaze scanning the audience through the fence where I’m standing near the platform. In the front row are my mom, dad, Melanie, her boyfriend, and my in-laws, Rich and Sherri. They are a speck in the distance, but the sight of their faces brings comfort.
I take it in, this moment threading through my heart like one of those defining moments that you’ll never forget. I know I won’t, because I’m starting to realize that with or without the title, there’s so much more I want to accomplish in this life.
Colson may be a coach now and a stock contractor, but I want to be by his side through it all.
I want to play a bigger part than just helping out in the off-season.
I want to help young girls, like I once was, love the ride because all they have to do is prove to themselves that they can, and that’s the only validation they need.
That feeling settled into my bones when I watched Colson give Paisley’s necklace to Calli.
A piece of his sister that he has always carried with him.
I want to help athletes who remind me of myself while also working with my clients’ horses, because it’s the only other love I’ve found in my career besides bull riding.
I don’t realize I’m smiling until I feel a warm set of hands settle on my hips, below where my protective vest is sitting on my waist. They wrap around to my front and pull my back against a hard body—the only man whose scent and touch can turn me into a puddle below my boots.
My coach’s mouth dips to the shell of my ear. “I was looking for you. Brian and Dalton told me you were over here taking in the crowd.”
Brian and Dalton have become some of our best friends, even though they live in a different state.
Often, we’ll try to go on double dates whenever there is an event.
It is the easiest time to catch up with each other outside of competing.
I was overjoyed for them when their touches, kisses, and smiles in secret started bleeding into the league.
They are perfect in every way, and even though they are still my competitors, I never fail to cheer them on out on the dirt or in ordinary parts of their lives.
Colson and my wedding was the second time I danced with Brian, and there was no jealousy that time or ulterior motive on my side.
It probably had something to do with the fact that I had our forever promise to each other inked permanently on my finger as Brian twirled me around while Dalton laughed from a table, watching how smooth his man’s moves were.
Colson smiled and swayed and danced with his mom beside us, both of us riding the high of our wedding night.
“Are you nervous?” my husband asks, his nerves about tonight laced in his tone.
I turn around in his hold, gripping my helmet as I peer up at him. I feel like I should be, considering I need to make up a few points if I want any shot at this. “A little, but I know I’m ready.”
“Good.” He nods. “Lap Dancer is an unpredictable bastard, but he’s got nothing on you, dust bunny.”
I can’t help it; I bark out a laugh. “Did you just call me a bastard?”
He smirks, knowing that tight-lipped, crooked smile never fails to have desire pooling between my thighs. “I meant the unpredictable part.”
“We’re a perfect match,” I say, my confidence overtaking the small seed of doubt I won’t let surface.
His brow curves. “I think you have that wrong. That’s us.”
I step back from him and pat his chest. “Not for the next five minutes, cowboy.”
Behind Colson, I see one of the crew members rushing toward us and know it’s time. “Let’s go, Harlow. You’re almost up.”
Colson plants a kiss on my forehead, his mouth lifting against my skin in a smile. “Kick ass, babe.”
I nod and blow out a breath, parting from him to walk toward the platform stairs.
“That bull has nothing on you!” my coach shouts loudly enough that half the crowd can probably hear him.
As I step up to the chute, none other than Jax Bowman is in a conversation at the end of the platform with Heather Ellis from Kickin’ Up Dust as she speaks into a microphone. When he sees me, he tips his hat, and I nod back.
I’m still not fond of the guy.
Two years ago, when he posted that video of Colson and me and then Colson quit so I could finish out the season, Jax won the buckle. It wasn’t exactly a surprise considering Colson was closest in the ranks to him.
Even assholes win.
But so do the underestimated ones.
I thought Jax might become my next rival after I started dating mine, but I quickly learned that the only person I can control is myself.
Before I know it, pure, thick muscle is shifting under my thighs, and I tighten my fingers around my bull rope, my other gripping the railing for stability. My heart pounds in my chest as my body memorizes every detail.
The rage.
The determination.
The grit circulating in my veins.
The breath escaping my lungs.
The sounds of Lap Dancer’s body hitting the fence and his snorts fill my ears.
But the one thing I’ve never felt with any other beast before is the way our hearts beat in sync as his body vibrates below mine.
That’s all I need. I know I’m ready, and I nod, lifting my free hand in the air.
The gate flies open, and Lap Dancer and I swiftly bolt out onto the dirt.
My heartbeat is a profound drum in my ears, my body in tune with his as I feel his next move.
Our breaths are heavy but in unison. He shifts from bucking to the right to the left, my balance staying centered and moving fluidly with him, as if we are one, not two separate entities.
Unlike all the other rides, I don’t want to tame him.
I want to bask in the wildness of this feeling.
Lap Dancer kicks his hind legs to the heavens, his chaotic moves and grunts pulling the corners of my mouth into a smile.
We’re a storm on the dirt, his hooves cracking the dirt like lightning as I counteract him with the power of my thunder.
And only then does the sound of the buzzer pierce through the cloud of determination that has consumed me.
Eight seconds.
Eight glorious, fleeting seconds.
The roar in the arena is a steady, beautiful sound that brings me back to reality, and I release my hand from the rope, tumbling from Lap Dancer as I roll across the dirt. My body is numb to any feeling other than the adrenaline licking every nerve.
People are standing, screaming, and cheering as the bullfighters safely guide the bull back to the pens. As I wait for the score, I take off my helmet, but I already know.
I know with every bone in my body that this was it.
This was the ride.
And as my eyes clash with my husband’s as he stands rigidly behind the fence, clinging to the rail, I know he knows it, too.
I hold Colson’s eyes as the announcer’s voice has to rise to counteract the boisterous, steady hum of the crowd.
As 92.75 is screamed into the microphone, tears spring to my eyes. Colson climbs the fence, hopping over to run to me as cowboy hats are tossed like Frisbees onto the dirt to land near my feet. Even if the next few riders get the best score possible, my fate is written in dirt and dust.
Happy tears fall from my eyes, my body letting out all the emotions that this goal I’ve envisioned reaching is now a reality.
I’m overwhelmed as I fling myself into Colson’s arms as he runs at me, his strong frame effortlessly picking me up and spinning me around.
My body sinks into his embrace as I cling to him.
Cling to this moment.
I hold on with everything I have, because though I’m done after this and hanging up my bull rope, the next part of this crazy, unpredictable life is one ride I can choose to never let go of.