I’m sure Sawyer and Wolfman have jokingly kissed me on the head or cheek or whatever countless times celebrating at rodeos or football games, and I’ve never been bothered then. If anything, I probably would’ve shoved them or punched them in the arm, which is why I made myself act the same with Duke and Rory, as opposed to standing there dazed, batting my eyelashes like an infatuated teenager who had just met their celebrity crush.
So, here I am, pretending to have gone to the restroom after the show, but instead having run off to get some alone time with the horses while everyone chatted to the rest of the bull riders with Sawyer, hoping it will help me calm down.
‘You ready to go?’ Duke throws out, finally drawing me from my thoughts and making me realise I never responded to his first question. He must have been sent over here to get me.
‘Sorry.’ I turn to him, offering a smile and he mirrors it, dark eyes lit up under the arena lights. Not as enlarged as they were earlier after he kissed me. ‘I got distracted.’
‘You always do here.’ He reaches over the fence to brush a hand across the filly’s neck.
It’s then that I notice a small new horseshoe tattoo on what was once bare skin on his inner wrist. After all the late nights closing up the bar, I’ve come to learn most of his tattoos, usually asking him their meanings as we clean up – so I’m intrigued as to how he snuck this new one past me in the last week. When he clears his throat, I snap my eyes back up to his.
‘What do you mean?’
‘Get distracted.’ Duke nods to the pen. ‘With the horses.’
‘Yeah.’ I sigh out a small chuckle, though struggle to maintain my smile – a momentary flash of the last time I ever rode forces it down into a frown. ‘I just miss riding, I guess.’
It’s not a second more before I’m leaning over the fence again, giving the filly a few more tickles under her chin, eliciting a soft nicker from her. Mirth bubbles up into my chest at the sound.
Duke hums. ‘That wasn’t on the list.’
I furrow my brow at him.
‘The bucket list,’ he continues, studying me with an angle of his head. ‘It wasn’t on the bucket list. You don’t want to try riding again?’
I nibble on my thumbnail as I consider. If I hadn’t fallen all those years ago, I might have been here competing today. Barrel racing was what I’d always had my sights set on, eager to convince my parents to let me start practising.
It’s not like I was going to be a bronc rider or anything.
But sometimes life just nudges you onto a different path than you expected. Without my epilepsy and my fall, I wouldn’t have found my passion for interior design during all those days off school where I spent probably too much time designing and decorating houses onThe Simsand learning to draw digitally.
That doesn’t mean all thewhat-ifsaren’t in the back of my head, though.
It’s partly why I love the days we get to watch Sawyer at the rodeos, knowing I can catch a glimpse of the other riding competitions, living my old dreams through the women competing. Wondering how much they’re risking each time they settle themselves in the saddle.
‘Yeah, maybe one day. When I feel ready,’ I eventually respond, shrugging as I’m bombarded with all the reasons I shouldn’t be up there, fulfilling the image that I’ve built of myself for years. ‘Though, once I get a job in the city, I doubt I’ll be that interested anymore.’
Duke just bobs his head. I’m sure he knows I’m dialling down how much I want to get back in the saddle, but he’d never call me out, he always just listens, like he trusts me to eventually make the best decision for myself. Which, as someone who has grown up with a lot of rules around what I can and can’t do, means more to me than he probably realises.
Duke regards me for a beat, then he returns to resting against the fence with me, watching the horses. I guess that’s the end of that conversation. I twist to finally head off and find the others—
‘I was actually, um …’ Duke starts but trails off, rubbing his hand along his jaw. A divot appears between his brows as his gaze drops from mine, but it’s back after a second, and I swear whenever he looks at me the rest of my surroundings quieten. All the chaos of the world suddenly disappearing. No more whinnies from the horses echoing across the pens or Morgan Wallen songs blasting from the speakers.
Just the two of us.
He tries again. ‘Well, I was thinking about what you said the other day and I thought … maybe I could help you out with it?’
My bottom lip drops. ‘What?’
‘The bucket list.’
I stand there in dumbstruck silence, blinking as I tryto comprehend whether he’s just offered what I think he has. ‘Wait, are you being serious?’
‘Yeah, why not?’ He releases a breathy chuckle. ‘If it means you’ll feel better. Unless Montana is helping you—’
‘No!’ I blurt out, and quickly school my features into something less wildly enthusiastic. ‘No, she … well, she is, but she’s been seeing this guy, Austin, a lot recently so she’s been pretty busy.’
A dimple pops in one of his cheeks as he gives me a lopsided grin. ‘Right. Obviously, I’m only talking about the, um …’ Duke rubs harshly at his forehead, clearing his throat. ‘The non-sexual stuff. Just want to make that clear, Cherry.’
