Eight Seconds to Fly, page 4
I tripped over my feet over the sound of a voice from my past. My heart thundered in my chest, and I had a split second to stay or run.
But Tessa May Everett was not a runner. So instead, I turned and looked at Beau Larkin.
I swallowed hard as memories of the last time I saw him flooded into my brain. That first ride. The elation. The pain.
“Hey Beau.”
He was in front of me in three steps. He wrapped his arms around my shoulders and pulled me into a tight hug, shocking the shit out of me. He smelled like sweat and sandalwood. Honestly, he must have been using the same cologne since he turned thirteen, because he’d always smelled the same.
“Nugget, fuck, what are you doing here?” He pulled me away so he could search my face. He looked almost exactly the same, except bigger. His shoulders were broad and muscular, his whiskey brown eyes still like falling into a warm bath.
I gave him a half-smile. “I’m riding here.”
He jerked like I’d punched him in the face. “Ridin’? You’re here riding bulls?”
I tensed my jaw. “Yeah. Riding bulls. This is a bull riding competition.”
He blinked rapidly, his hands still on my arms. “Does Branch know you’re here?”
Now it was my turn to be confused. “What the hell does Branch have to do with anything? I haven’t seen him in like five years, Beau.”
He looked past me and down the long corridor. “I have a feelin’ that’s about to change.”
Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck. I’d followed Branch’s career, of course. I was a sucker like that. When he’d torn his ACL and his MCL late at the end of last season, I thought he’d be out for this year. I should have known the bastard would be too damn stubborn for that.
“Beau, can I borrow you to-” his steps faltered. “Nugget?”
I turned in Beau’s arms, stepping away from my old friend to face another old friend. Hell, maybe he was an old nemesis. It was a fine line with Branch.
“Hey Branch.”
He looked pale, like he’d seen a ghost. Unlike Beau, he didn’t come closer. “What are you doin’ here?” he asked, eyes narrowing. Yeah, Branch was always a little quicker than Beau. More cunning. More suspicious.
“Heard this was where they held knitting lessons.”
Beau hissed a laugh beside me, but at Branch’s dark look, he rapidly shut up. I gave Branch my own stink-eye. “I’m here to ride, Branch. Earned my place fair and square, so whatever macho bullshit you are about to spew, just can it.”
I turned on my heel and walked in the opposite direction to where I was supposed to go.
“Nugget,” Branch called after me and I ignored him. “Tessa May,” he yelled and my feet stilled. Damn him. I glared at him over my shoulder.
He smirked at me. “You look good.”
I flipped him the bird and strode away to the soundtrack of his damn laughter. Screw Branch Watson and Beau Larkin.
The only thing I had to prove, I’d prove on the dirt tonight.
I walked around in circles at the back of the arena for fifteen minutes before I retraced my steps. I kept an eye out for Branch or Beau, but they seemed to be gone. I did stumble across Frankie though.
“Hey T.M., I’ve been looking all over for you. Do you know who I just met? Randy freaking Bryan.” Some of the bullfighters were as famous as the riders, and justly so. Those guys were crazy as hell. They deserved the adulation. Frankie always called me T.M. at events. Never Querida, or Tessa or anything else. That was for private.
I grinned at Frankie. It would have been like meeting Garth Brooks or something. “Did you fangirl?”
“Screw off,” he grumbled but he was grinning like a fool.
We walked to the back rooms together, and my heart began to hammer. Frankie looked over at me, his brow creased. “You okay?”
I nodded even though I felt like I was about to have a heart attack. “Fine. I just ran into a couple of pieces of my past though.”
Frankie’s eyebrows rose. “How past are we talking? Like California or…?”
My lips thinned and I looked around. “Yeah, option number two. From the past-past.”
Frankie whistled, and pushed the door open to the waiting room. Every set of eyes in the room flicked to me. I was used to it. What I wasn’t used to was the familiar faces.
Branch and Beau stood in the corner talking to another man. I ignored them, walking over to an empty locker. I stuffed my suitcase underneath the bench and tried to ignore my surroundings too. The silence was heavy and I sighed. Frankie had my back, but he was letting me handle shit. That's what I loved about him. He walked over and talked to the Brazilian riders, some we knew from our time on the minor circuit.
I sighed and turned around, facing the room full of men. “Yes, I’m a woman. Yes, I’m here to ride bulls. No, I don’t care if you get naked and let your dicks swing in the breeze, I promise I’ve seen it all before. I’m here for the same reason you all are. I want that thrill of climbing onto the back of a 1600 pound beast and conquering it for eight seconds.” I smiled, but didn’t show too much teeth. I had to straddle the line between confident and earnest, otherwise I was considered a bitch, or worse again, prey.
I looked over at the Brazilian riders, and a few of the older ones gave me a nod, and I nodded back relieved. Whatever Frankie was saying to them, they were cool with it. When I looked around the rest of the room, their expressions were mostly guarded, with the occasional leer of disgust. So about right then. When I got to Branch’s group, I upped the bitch factor of my smile. But when they stepped aside and I got a good look at who they’d been talking to, the smile fell clear off my face.
Great. Fucking great.
“Tessa?” Dylan Montaigne, my one night stand, stood with my ex-best friends. Fuck my life.
3
Beau, bless his big heart, looked between us. “This is Tessa from Texarkana? The one you-” Branch slapped him in the back of the head, the gesture so familiar from our childhood days that I almost grinned. Branch looked at me, then at Dylan.
“Outside, now,” he growled, and I snarled in his direction.
“Fuck off, Branch.”
There were a few sniggers around the room, and Branch’s eyes narrowed. “Fine, you want to air this shit in here? Lets do it. How about we talk about how you-”
I held up a hand and glared. Branch was fucking this up for me, and I was going to punch him in the damn face.
Frankie had moved closer to me, hovering at my side, ready to throw down. I cast him a thankful look as I strode toward the door that led out of the changing room. Frankie was right at my heels, watching my back, and I could only assume that Dylan, Branch and Beau would follow. I strode into an empty conference room across the hall.
“Dammit, dammit, dammit,” I whispered under my breath. You only got one chance to make a first impression, that's what Daddy had always told me. And Branch had fucking blown it for me.
As if I summoned the Devil himself, Branch strode into the room, Beau on his heels and a still shell-shocked Dylan bringing up the rear and closing the door.
Branch looked at Frankie. “Who the hell are you?”
Frankie called him some pretty nasty things in Portuguese, and I grinned. “Be nice.” Frankie stared down at me, his face blank but his eyes dancing with questions.
“Francisco Santos. Tessa’s best friend. Who the fuck are you?” he growled back, and I rolled my eyes. Great.
Beau looked like he was about to burst. He turned to Dylan, both eyebrows raised. “This is Tessa, the buckle bunny from Texarkana?”
I scoffed, my eyes catching Dylan’s. “Nice, asshole. Real respectful. You guys are like a bad stereotype.”
Dylan raised his hands, throwing Beau a disgruntled look. “That’s not what it was like. Not what I said.”
I smirked in his direction. “Technically, I’m a rider too. Maybe that makes you the buckle bunny, dickhead.”
Frankie laughed, holding his abs as he bent in half. “Buckle bunny. Damn, that was a good one.”
Branch didn’t seem amused. “See you still got the same dirty mouth, Tessa May.”
“Eat a dick, Branch.”
“How about you eat it for me?” He growled back, and all mirth left Frankie’s face as he stepped forward like he was going to beat the shit out of Branch. I had a moment of hesitation where I seriously considered letting him go for it, but then I grabbed his arm, holding him back. As much as I would like to see Frankie slap down Branch, my position in the WBRP was precarious as it was.
Beau stepped forward, his palms up. “Hey, lets not get crazy. We aren’t kids anymore.” He gave Branch a disapproving look. “I think you being here is a bit of a shock to everyone. Maybe Dylan for a different reason.”
I couldn’t tell if he sounded disapproving or not. I didn’t care. I was a big girl. I didn’t need Beau or Branch chasing away boys like they had when I was a teenager. Beau had been my first kiss, and Branch had been my second, that day at the Rodeo when I rode for the first time. The last time I saw him.
“I fucked Dylan in the back of my truck. Let’s not pretend it isn’t something you guys do every weekend. This is the twenty-first century. Women are allowed to enjoy one night stands too, the same way we are allowed to ride bulls.”
Beau winced, casting a quick look to Branch. The man had his fists clenched. “You are worth more than a quick fuck in the back of someones pick-up, Tessa May.” Whoops, he was pulling out my actual name. I must have pissed him off good and proper now.
I shrugged. “Maybe. Hell, maybe Dylan is worth more than being just a body to get myself off with, but it doesn’t matter because he has a dick, right?”
Beau actually laughed. “Jesus, I’ve missed the hell out of you.” He looked like he wanted to hug me again. Beau was a hugger. Frankie stepped closer to me, and pulled me beneath his arm protectively. I shot him a sidelong look, and I swear, his expression was jealous. Did he think I was going to replace his BFF status with Beau? Beau was my past, but Frankie had held me together for years. Patched me up and been my staunchest supporter. I loved him to death. He was my Ride or Die.
All three of the men across the room looked at Frankie’s hand curled around my shoulders, like they could sear the limb off with their mind. Jesus save me.
“Look. This doesn’t have to be weird. We can just pretend we don’t exist to each other. I’m not here to make waves. I just want to ride. It’s all I’ve ever wanted.”
Beau’s eyes softened, and he stepped toward me. He reached out a hand and I only hesitated a moment before I took it. For the second time in an afternoon, I was dragged into familiar arms. “Damn, Tessa May. I kind of can’t believe it's really you. I wanted to see you in hospital after…” My body stiffened, but he rubbed a circle on my back. “But they wouldn’t let us in to see you. Branch threw a punch at the security guard and we got banned.” Disapproval colored his tone, and I didn’t know if it was disapproval of Branch’s short temper or the hospital's actions. “Then you were being shipped off to California. We didn’t even get to say goodbye. You were just gone forever.”
Tears welled in my eyes and I sucked heaving breaths to stop them from falling. No. I was not going to cry in front of Branch and Beau. Instead, I pulled away. I shrugged. “I kept track of you guys. Talked to Mr. Watson about the property, and he mentioned you went into sports medicine, specialising in bull riding. And he always talked about how Branch was doing. Sorry about the ACL,” I said over his shoulder to a still tightly strung Branch.
He shrugged. “It happens.”
Yeah it did, especially in this sport. It was not a matter of if, but of when.
I took another step back until I was almost touching Frankie. “Are we good or is this going to be a thing?”
Dylan looked like he wanted to say something, but he nodded. “I got no problem with you riding.”
I looked at Branch. My childhood frenemy. “It’s dangerous, Tessa May.”
The words echoed some of the last I’d ever heard from him. I nodded. “I know, Branch. I didn’t get to this point on my good looks. I’ve ridden some rank bulls. Gotten thrown, stomped. I’ve broken bones and paid my dues in blood. I know it's dangerous, but I don’t want to do anything else.”
He was silent for a long time, his blue eyes chasing the planes of my face. Finally, he nodded. “Fine. I don’t owe you anything,” he said, more to himself than to me. Beau rolled his eyes like his best friend was an idiot. He wasn’t wrong though. Branch Watson didn’t owe me a damn thing, and if I had my way, he never would.
I nodded. “Good. Can we go back in there now? I have a ride to prep for.” Branch’s jaw tensed again, but he gave me a sharp look and spun on his heel, yanking open the door and striding out like I was the one being dismissed. Beau walked out after him, talking to him in a low voice that I couldn’t hear.
Dylan paused. “Can I have a moment, Tessa?”
I hesitated, but nodded. I looked up at Frankie. “I’ll be out in a minute.”
Frankie stared down Dylan on his way out the door. We were going to have to chat about the whole stare-down thing he had going on today. Still, when my friend closed the door, he trapped me in the room with Dylan.
Dylan ran a tattooed hand up over the back of his short hair. “I just wanted you to know that it wasn’t like Beau said. I never called you a buckle bunny. That night, Tessa, I couldn’t forget it.” My heart thudded against my chest.
I couldn’t either. Dylan was half the reason I had such a dry spell right now. No one seemed to measure up. I couldn’t tell him that though. Instead, I raised an eyebrow. “Oh?”
Dylan was nodding, walking toward me. I resisted the urge to run into his arms and wrap my body around his. “Really. I tried to track you down, but no one could tell me about anyone named Tessa. I even called fucking Stan Wilfred Junior,” he said derisively, and I got it. No one would voluntarily inflict Junior on themselves. “But he said he didn’t know any Tessa.”
Bet he did, the dickcheese.
“I go by T.M. Moore on the circuit.”
Dylan’s eyebrows rose too. “No shit, you’re T.M.? There wasn’t even a whisper that you were a woman. How does that happen?”
Because I was the industry's dirty little secret. If I didn’t advertise that I was a woman, they didn’t want to advertise it either. Until now.
“Luck I guess?” I said instead. He was well and truly in my space now, and I held my breath. He reached up and traced his knuckles down my cheek. My eyes fluttered closed of their own volition, and I swallowed back a sigh.
This couldn’t happen.
I took a step away, and Dylan let his hand fall. “I’m sorry, but I can’t. We can’t.”
“Is the Brazilian guy more than a friend after all?” He sounded jealous and I frowned.
I didn’t want to give him the wrong impression, but then, maybe I was safer using Frankie as a patsy? I contemplated it for a second, but disregarded the idea. I didn’t want to lie, especially when it could hamper Frankie’s chances. “No, we are just friends, like I said. But I don’t sleep with bull riders, Dylan. It's never a good idea, especially not when we are competing against each other. Especially when I’m the first woman to make it to this level.”
I could blow it all, and as much as I craved Dylan’s touch again, I would not waste this chance on a man.
He sighed. “If you change your mind, I’d love to take you out.” I went to protest again, but he raised a hand. “Offer stands, whether you take it up or not. And even if you don’t, I’ll try and run interference with Branch. Is he the reason you don’t date bull riders?”
Was he? No. He was the reason I didn’t date full stop. But I’d never tell Dylan that. I shook my head. “No. Branch and I go back to when we were kids. We were all raised on neighboring farms. Our Dads were business partners.”
Dylan reared back. “Wait. You’re Nugget? The Nugget?”
When it sounded like that, it sounded ridiculous. “Uh yes? My dad,” I swallowed hard, “he called me his Gold Nugget because of the hair. They shortened it to Nugget and it kind of stuck. For them at least, no one else calls me Nugget anymore.”
Dylan was shaking his head, a small smirk on his face. “Branch’s craziness makes sense now. He’s usually cool as hell, nothing ruffles him. But you swagger in and he’s a mess.” He laughed then, planting a tiny kiss on the corner of my mouth, before straightening and stepping away. “Remember, my offer stands. You can name the time and the place and I’ll be there. Have a good ride tonight,” he said with a wink that threatened to make my panties combust.
“You too,” I said weakly, and then he was gone.
I was left alone in the room to pull my shit together. What a goddamn mess.
4
Walking back into that dressing room after Branch’s little outburst had been tough, but I planted a cocky grin on my face and strode in like I owned it, rolling my eyes and shrugging. Frankie took me over and introduced me to the Brazilians. Loads of fans didn’t like how they dominated the sport, but I thought the competition was good. You can’t claim to be the best in the world, unless you were riding against the best. And these guys? Some of them have lived and breathed this sport since birth. The bulls they learned to ride on back in Brazil were rank as hell, and it made them better riders right off the bat. They were young, fit, and it was no surprise that they dominated so much.
They spoke in rapid Portuguese, some of which I could keep up with, enough that I could reply haltingly in return, but they still seemed to appreciate it.
Anything I missed, Frankie caught me up on. Still, as it got closer to show time, the more nervous I got. I bounced around, pulling on my gear to do the walk on. I didn’t have many sponsorship patches, even though arguably my daddy’s company sponsored me by default. I tried not to dip into that money, even though it was rightfully mine.
But I figured this wasn’t a job you were in for a long time. You either ended up injured out or dead. I wanted to have enough money squirrelled away in case it was the former. And so I’d have money for a nice funeral if it was the latter. I still used it to pay entrance fees and medical bills, so I wasn’t as hard off as a lot of rookies on the circuit, scrabbling to make an impression and get some dollars.
But Tessa May Everett was not a runner. So instead, I turned and looked at Beau Larkin.
I swallowed hard as memories of the last time I saw him flooded into my brain. That first ride. The elation. The pain.
“Hey Beau.”
He was in front of me in three steps. He wrapped his arms around my shoulders and pulled me into a tight hug, shocking the shit out of me. He smelled like sweat and sandalwood. Honestly, he must have been using the same cologne since he turned thirteen, because he’d always smelled the same.
“Nugget, fuck, what are you doing here?” He pulled me away so he could search my face. He looked almost exactly the same, except bigger. His shoulders were broad and muscular, his whiskey brown eyes still like falling into a warm bath.
I gave him a half-smile. “I’m riding here.”
He jerked like I’d punched him in the face. “Ridin’? You’re here riding bulls?”
I tensed my jaw. “Yeah. Riding bulls. This is a bull riding competition.”
He blinked rapidly, his hands still on my arms. “Does Branch know you’re here?”
Now it was my turn to be confused. “What the hell does Branch have to do with anything? I haven’t seen him in like five years, Beau.”
He looked past me and down the long corridor. “I have a feelin’ that’s about to change.”
Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck. I’d followed Branch’s career, of course. I was a sucker like that. When he’d torn his ACL and his MCL late at the end of last season, I thought he’d be out for this year. I should have known the bastard would be too damn stubborn for that.
“Beau, can I borrow you to-” his steps faltered. “Nugget?”
I turned in Beau’s arms, stepping away from my old friend to face another old friend. Hell, maybe he was an old nemesis. It was a fine line with Branch.
“Hey Branch.”
He looked pale, like he’d seen a ghost. Unlike Beau, he didn’t come closer. “What are you doin’ here?” he asked, eyes narrowing. Yeah, Branch was always a little quicker than Beau. More cunning. More suspicious.
“Heard this was where they held knitting lessons.”
Beau hissed a laugh beside me, but at Branch’s dark look, he rapidly shut up. I gave Branch my own stink-eye. “I’m here to ride, Branch. Earned my place fair and square, so whatever macho bullshit you are about to spew, just can it.”
I turned on my heel and walked in the opposite direction to where I was supposed to go.
“Nugget,” Branch called after me and I ignored him. “Tessa May,” he yelled and my feet stilled. Damn him. I glared at him over my shoulder.
He smirked at me. “You look good.”
I flipped him the bird and strode away to the soundtrack of his damn laughter. Screw Branch Watson and Beau Larkin.
The only thing I had to prove, I’d prove on the dirt tonight.
I walked around in circles at the back of the arena for fifteen minutes before I retraced my steps. I kept an eye out for Branch or Beau, but they seemed to be gone. I did stumble across Frankie though.
“Hey T.M., I’ve been looking all over for you. Do you know who I just met? Randy freaking Bryan.” Some of the bullfighters were as famous as the riders, and justly so. Those guys were crazy as hell. They deserved the adulation. Frankie always called me T.M. at events. Never Querida, or Tessa or anything else. That was for private.
I grinned at Frankie. It would have been like meeting Garth Brooks or something. “Did you fangirl?”
“Screw off,” he grumbled but he was grinning like a fool.
We walked to the back rooms together, and my heart began to hammer. Frankie looked over at me, his brow creased. “You okay?”
I nodded even though I felt like I was about to have a heart attack. “Fine. I just ran into a couple of pieces of my past though.”
Frankie’s eyebrows rose. “How past are we talking? Like California or…?”
My lips thinned and I looked around. “Yeah, option number two. From the past-past.”
Frankie whistled, and pushed the door open to the waiting room. Every set of eyes in the room flicked to me. I was used to it. What I wasn’t used to was the familiar faces.
Branch and Beau stood in the corner talking to another man. I ignored them, walking over to an empty locker. I stuffed my suitcase underneath the bench and tried to ignore my surroundings too. The silence was heavy and I sighed. Frankie had my back, but he was letting me handle shit. That's what I loved about him. He walked over and talked to the Brazilian riders, some we knew from our time on the minor circuit.
I sighed and turned around, facing the room full of men. “Yes, I’m a woman. Yes, I’m here to ride bulls. No, I don’t care if you get naked and let your dicks swing in the breeze, I promise I’ve seen it all before. I’m here for the same reason you all are. I want that thrill of climbing onto the back of a 1600 pound beast and conquering it for eight seconds.” I smiled, but didn’t show too much teeth. I had to straddle the line between confident and earnest, otherwise I was considered a bitch, or worse again, prey.
I looked over at the Brazilian riders, and a few of the older ones gave me a nod, and I nodded back relieved. Whatever Frankie was saying to them, they were cool with it. When I looked around the rest of the room, their expressions were mostly guarded, with the occasional leer of disgust. So about right then. When I got to Branch’s group, I upped the bitch factor of my smile. But when they stepped aside and I got a good look at who they’d been talking to, the smile fell clear off my face.
Great. Fucking great.
“Tessa?” Dylan Montaigne, my one night stand, stood with my ex-best friends. Fuck my life.
3
Beau, bless his big heart, looked between us. “This is Tessa from Texarkana? The one you-” Branch slapped him in the back of the head, the gesture so familiar from our childhood days that I almost grinned. Branch looked at me, then at Dylan.
“Outside, now,” he growled, and I snarled in his direction.
“Fuck off, Branch.”
There were a few sniggers around the room, and Branch’s eyes narrowed. “Fine, you want to air this shit in here? Lets do it. How about we talk about how you-”
I held up a hand and glared. Branch was fucking this up for me, and I was going to punch him in the damn face.
Frankie had moved closer to me, hovering at my side, ready to throw down. I cast him a thankful look as I strode toward the door that led out of the changing room. Frankie was right at my heels, watching my back, and I could only assume that Dylan, Branch and Beau would follow. I strode into an empty conference room across the hall.
“Dammit, dammit, dammit,” I whispered under my breath. You only got one chance to make a first impression, that's what Daddy had always told me. And Branch had fucking blown it for me.
As if I summoned the Devil himself, Branch strode into the room, Beau on his heels and a still shell-shocked Dylan bringing up the rear and closing the door.
Branch looked at Frankie. “Who the hell are you?”
Frankie called him some pretty nasty things in Portuguese, and I grinned. “Be nice.” Frankie stared down at me, his face blank but his eyes dancing with questions.
“Francisco Santos. Tessa’s best friend. Who the fuck are you?” he growled back, and I rolled my eyes. Great.
Beau looked like he was about to burst. He turned to Dylan, both eyebrows raised. “This is Tessa, the buckle bunny from Texarkana?”
I scoffed, my eyes catching Dylan’s. “Nice, asshole. Real respectful. You guys are like a bad stereotype.”
Dylan raised his hands, throwing Beau a disgruntled look. “That’s not what it was like. Not what I said.”
I smirked in his direction. “Technically, I’m a rider too. Maybe that makes you the buckle bunny, dickhead.”
Frankie laughed, holding his abs as he bent in half. “Buckle bunny. Damn, that was a good one.”
Branch didn’t seem amused. “See you still got the same dirty mouth, Tessa May.”
“Eat a dick, Branch.”
“How about you eat it for me?” He growled back, and all mirth left Frankie’s face as he stepped forward like he was going to beat the shit out of Branch. I had a moment of hesitation where I seriously considered letting him go for it, but then I grabbed his arm, holding him back. As much as I would like to see Frankie slap down Branch, my position in the WBRP was precarious as it was.
Beau stepped forward, his palms up. “Hey, lets not get crazy. We aren’t kids anymore.” He gave Branch a disapproving look. “I think you being here is a bit of a shock to everyone. Maybe Dylan for a different reason.”
I couldn’t tell if he sounded disapproving or not. I didn’t care. I was a big girl. I didn’t need Beau or Branch chasing away boys like they had when I was a teenager. Beau had been my first kiss, and Branch had been my second, that day at the Rodeo when I rode for the first time. The last time I saw him.
“I fucked Dylan in the back of my truck. Let’s not pretend it isn’t something you guys do every weekend. This is the twenty-first century. Women are allowed to enjoy one night stands too, the same way we are allowed to ride bulls.”
Beau winced, casting a quick look to Branch. The man had his fists clenched. “You are worth more than a quick fuck in the back of someones pick-up, Tessa May.” Whoops, he was pulling out my actual name. I must have pissed him off good and proper now.
I shrugged. “Maybe. Hell, maybe Dylan is worth more than being just a body to get myself off with, but it doesn’t matter because he has a dick, right?”
Beau actually laughed. “Jesus, I’ve missed the hell out of you.” He looked like he wanted to hug me again. Beau was a hugger. Frankie stepped closer to me, and pulled me beneath his arm protectively. I shot him a sidelong look, and I swear, his expression was jealous. Did he think I was going to replace his BFF status with Beau? Beau was my past, but Frankie had held me together for years. Patched me up and been my staunchest supporter. I loved him to death. He was my Ride or Die.
All three of the men across the room looked at Frankie’s hand curled around my shoulders, like they could sear the limb off with their mind. Jesus save me.
“Look. This doesn’t have to be weird. We can just pretend we don’t exist to each other. I’m not here to make waves. I just want to ride. It’s all I’ve ever wanted.”
Beau’s eyes softened, and he stepped toward me. He reached out a hand and I only hesitated a moment before I took it. For the second time in an afternoon, I was dragged into familiar arms. “Damn, Tessa May. I kind of can’t believe it's really you. I wanted to see you in hospital after…” My body stiffened, but he rubbed a circle on my back. “But they wouldn’t let us in to see you. Branch threw a punch at the security guard and we got banned.” Disapproval colored his tone, and I didn’t know if it was disapproval of Branch’s short temper or the hospital's actions. “Then you were being shipped off to California. We didn’t even get to say goodbye. You were just gone forever.”
Tears welled in my eyes and I sucked heaving breaths to stop them from falling. No. I was not going to cry in front of Branch and Beau. Instead, I pulled away. I shrugged. “I kept track of you guys. Talked to Mr. Watson about the property, and he mentioned you went into sports medicine, specialising in bull riding. And he always talked about how Branch was doing. Sorry about the ACL,” I said over his shoulder to a still tightly strung Branch.
He shrugged. “It happens.”
Yeah it did, especially in this sport. It was not a matter of if, but of when.
I took another step back until I was almost touching Frankie. “Are we good or is this going to be a thing?”
Dylan looked like he wanted to say something, but he nodded. “I got no problem with you riding.”
I looked at Branch. My childhood frenemy. “It’s dangerous, Tessa May.”
The words echoed some of the last I’d ever heard from him. I nodded. “I know, Branch. I didn’t get to this point on my good looks. I’ve ridden some rank bulls. Gotten thrown, stomped. I’ve broken bones and paid my dues in blood. I know it's dangerous, but I don’t want to do anything else.”
He was silent for a long time, his blue eyes chasing the planes of my face. Finally, he nodded. “Fine. I don’t owe you anything,” he said, more to himself than to me. Beau rolled his eyes like his best friend was an idiot. He wasn’t wrong though. Branch Watson didn’t owe me a damn thing, and if I had my way, he never would.
I nodded. “Good. Can we go back in there now? I have a ride to prep for.” Branch’s jaw tensed again, but he gave me a sharp look and spun on his heel, yanking open the door and striding out like I was the one being dismissed. Beau walked out after him, talking to him in a low voice that I couldn’t hear.
Dylan paused. “Can I have a moment, Tessa?”
I hesitated, but nodded. I looked up at Frankie. “I’ll be out in a minute.”
Frankie stared down Dylan on his way out the door. We were going to have to chat about the whole stare-down thing he had going on today. Still, when my friend closed the door, he trapped me in the room with Dylan.
Dylan ran a tattooed hand up over the back of his short hair. “I just wanted you to know that it wasn’t like Beau said. I never called you a buckle bunny. That night, Tessa, I couldn’t forget it.” My heart thudded against my chest.
I couldn’t either. Dylan was half the reason I had such a dry spell right now. No one seemed to measure up. I couldn’t tell him that though. Instead, I raised an eyebrow. “Oh?”
Dylan was nodding, walking toward me. I resisted the urge to run into his arms and wrap my body around his. “Really. I tried to track you down, but no one could tell me about anyone named Tessa. I even called fucking Stan Wilfred Junior,” he said derisively, and I got it. No one would voluntarily inflict Junior on themselves. “But he said he didn’t know any Tessa.”
Bet he did, the dickcheese.
“I go by T.M. Moore on the circuit.”
Dylan’s eyebrows rose too. “No shit, you’re T.M.? There wasn’t even a whisper that you were a woman. How does that happen?”
Because I was the industry's dirty little secret. If I didn’t advertise that I was a woman, they didn’t want to advertise it either. Until now.
“Luck I guess?” I said instead. He was well and truly in my space now, and I held my breath. He reached up and traced his knuckles down my cheek. My eyes fluttered closed of their own volition, and I swallowed back a sigh.
This couldn’t happen.
I took a step away, and Dylan let his hand fall. “I’m sorry, but I can’t. We can’t.”
“Is the Brazilian guy more than a friend after all?” He sounded jealous and I frowned.
I didn’t want to give him the wrong impression, but then, maybe I was safer using Frankie as a patsy? I contemplated it for a second, but disregarded the idea. I didn’t want to lie, especially when it could hamper Frankie’s chances. “No, we are just friends, like I said. But I don’t sleep with bull riders, Dylan. It's never a good idea, especially not when we are competing against each other. Especially when I’m the first woman to make it to this level.”
I could blow it all, and as much as I craved Dylan’s touch again, I would not waste this chance on a man.
He sighed. “If you change your mind, I’d love to take you out.” I went to protest again, but he raised a hand. “Offer stands, whether you take it up or not. And even if you don’t, I’ll try and run interference with Branch. Is he the reason you don’t date bull riders?”
Was he? No. He was the reason I didn’t date full stop. But I’d never tell Dylan that. I shook my head. “No. Branch and I go back to when we were kids. We were all raised on neighboring farms. Our Dads were business partners.”
Dylan reared back. “Wait. You’re Nugget? The Nugget?”
When it sounded like that, it sounded ridiculous. “Uh yes? My dad,” I swallowed hard, “he called me his Gold Nugget because of the hair. They shortened it to Nugget and it kind of stuck. For them at least, no one else calls me Nugget anymore.”
Dylan was shaking his head, a small smirk on his face. “Branch’s craziness makes sense now. He’s usually cool as hell, nothing ruffles him. But you swagger in and he’s a mess.” He laughed then, planting a tiny kiss on the corner of my mouth, before straightening and stepping away. “Remember, my offer stands. You can name the time and the place and I’ll be there. Have a good ride tonight,” he said with a wink that threatened to make my panties combust.
“You too,” I said weakly, and then he was gone.
I was left alone in the room to pull my shit together. What a goddamn mess.
4
Walking back into that dressing room after Branch’s little outburst had been tough, but I planted a cocky grin on my face and strode in like I owned it, rolling my eyes and shrugging. Frankie took me over and introduced me to the Brazilians. Loads of fans didn’t like how they dominated the sport, but I thought the competition was good. You can’t claim to be the best in the world, unless you were riding against the best. And these guys? Some of them have lived and breathed this sport since birth. The bulls they learned to ride on back in Brazil were rank as hell, and it made them better riders right off the bat. They were young, fit, and it was no surprise that they dominated so much.
They spoke in rapid Portuguese, some of which I could keep up with, enough that I could reply haltingly in return, but they still seemed to appreciate it.
Anything I missed, Frankie caught me up on. Still, as it got closer to show time, the more nervous I got. I bounced around, pulling on my gear to do the walk on. I didn’t have many sponsorship patches, even though arguably my daddy’s company sponsored me by default. I tried not to dip into that money, even though it was rightfully mine.
But I figured this wasn’t a job you were in for a long time. You either ended up injured out or dead. I wanted to have enough money squirrelled away in case it was the former. And so I’d have money for a nice funeral if it was the latter. I still used it to pay entrance fees and medical bills, so I wasn’t as hard off as a lot of rookies on the circuit, scrabbling to make an impression and get some dollars.
