“River, shh. You’ll scare him. Baby, it’s okay. Just trust me.”
My heart rate refuses to slow as I shake my head. Over my dead body, am I getting on the back of an animal that almost killed him twice.
“Gray, put me down. Now!” I grunt.
“No. You’re going to get on Fester.” He stumbles over the name as if he has a bad taste in his mouth. “Then you’re going to let him walk you around the ring.”
“Gray. No. What if…” The words lodge in my throat, thinking about all the things that could go wrong. I could be the next one in a hospital bed.
“I promise you, I will be right by your side. Nothing bad is going to happen. Please get on the bull.”
As if his words were the water to put out my fire, the fight dies. With a grunt, he hoists me higher again, my arms wrapping around Fester’s thick neck, as Gray helps me toss one leg over the side. Sitting tall, my entire body vibrates with fear, but Fester didn’t so much as move through the whole process.
Gray clicks his tongue and the bull moves forward. A slow shuffle around the edge of the caged area. His pace never changes, and as Gray promised, he’s right there at my side, a hand wrapped around my calf, providing me with more comfort than he likely realizes.
“Bulls are quite calm, usually. Some are mean and nasty, but most are like your boy Fester here. They just want love. They want peace.”
I listen as Gray reaches out his other hand and pets along the bull’s side, earning a snort.
“We purposely antagonize them when we funnel them into the shoots and then the arena. But it’s not what they are. It’s not who they are. I know you’re scared after what happened to me. I know you don’t trust them anymore, but I wanted to show you that you can. That you should. Pet him, River.”
A trembling hand lifts from where I’ve planted them along the bull’s spine between my spread legs. Slowly, I lower it, running my palm along the coarse fur. The action repeated several times. But nothing changes. Fester only continues his slow trot in circles, as if completely unbothered by our presence.
“Do you feel better?” Gray asks.
“Yes, and no.” An honest answer. “They might be calm now, but you aren’t riding them like this.”
He sighs, shaking his head. “I have to ride, River.”
“And I never asked or told you to stop,” I snap. “Just because you’re not scared of getting hurt doesn’t mean you get to tell me I’m not supposed to be.”
“You’re right. I was hoping this would help with that.”
“Let me down,” I order him, bracing for Fester to finally grow angry.
Gray clucks his tongue again, and the bull immediately stops moving with another snort. He helps me down, and once again Fester doesn’t even react.
But Gray doesn’t let me go, our fronts pressed together beside a deadly beast.
“River, I’m trying—”
“Shush, thank you for bringing me out here. You’re just going to have to understand I am always going to be scared for you. I nearly broke that first night I came back here and got a taste of what it would be like for you to not come home. So hear me when I say this, Grayson Garrison, I will never tell you not to fight for what you love and the things you want to accomplish, but I will always worry about you. The surgeon in me will fight you tooth and nail to get you to care about your well-being the way I do.”
“I expect nothing less,” he kisses me sweetly, flashing that panty-dropping Gray smile. “Let’s go put your boy back, and then I have an hour to have my way with you before I drop you at work.”
Yes, sir.
Chapter 27
Grayson
MytemplesthrobasI hop out of my truck in the Boulder Ranch lot.
It’s my normal day to come out and work with the livestock. One of the many things I’ve done around this place since I was a teenager. A pastime that may now be lost under “new ownership.”
I spit at the ground, imagining it’s my brother’s face. Fury still roars through me, knowing he flat-out lied to me. The loving words he’d fed me when I was a drugged invalid in the hospital doesn’t make up for that. Truthfully, likely nothing can.
Readjusting my ball cap on my head, the area where they shaved me bald bristles against the interior.
