Dammit. The animals.
Bolting upright, Bronc barks in protest. His pillow now moving against his wishes.
“Calm down, baby. Go back to sleep if you want,” Gray chuckles from the chair across from me.
“But we have chores.”
“They’re done already. Looks like you needed that nap as much as I did,” he smiles wide. “Want to talk about it?”
My eyes narrow on his, and I know Gran called him. She’d know I would be in my head about my family coming.
“You first.” I cross my arms, sitting up. A diversion from my own tortured news.
“I saw Tate at the ranch. We shared some words. Then I ran into Tom Donovan.”
“Who?” I question. I’m not sure who this Tom is, but he says the name as if everyone should.
“He’s one of the most sought-after bull distributors. Breeds some of the biggest and baddest bastards.” Gray grins as if he’s won the lottery. “He got me thinking.”
“About?”
“Maybe going back out on the pro circuit once I’m cleared to ride again.”
My heart seizes in my chest. If Gray wants to ride, he will, and I will support it, but the thought of him being out on the road somewhere and getting hurt and I’m not there hits differently.
I wonder if time will make this fear go away. We haven’t been together long, and as far as I know, in Gray’s whole career, this is only the second really bad injury he’s had. Odds are there won’t be another one, I try to reason with myself. A lie if I’ve ever heard one.
It’s not that simple. That’s not how this sport works. The probabilities aren’t the same with something like bull riding. Accidents happen. An endless list of trajectories possible with each passing second. The truth is right there in Gray’s last ride.
It had been a perfect display of his skill and the bull’s athleticism. The score flashing on the board, a solid ninety-seven as he was slammed into the gate. I don’t know if he lost focus during his dismount or if it was down to nothing more than chance timing. It doesn’t matter.
“If that’s what you want.” It’s a fight to sound calm, as if I’m not bothered by the idea. I’m not the type who is going to expect Gray to act a certain way or choose how to live his life because I asked him to. Neither one of us is one of those people, nor would we accept a partner who was.
“How do you feel about it?” Gray questions, moving to come sit beside me before pulling me into his lap.
“It’s your life. You get to decide.”
Firm fingers grip my chin, turning my face toward his. Those whiskey eyes say so much without him speaking a word. “That’s not how this works anymore, River. It’s you and me now, so I’ll ask you again.” His lips press to mine, then to my jaw, before our eyes once again lock. “How do you feel about it?”
“Gray, don’t ask me that.” My fingers toy with the buttons of his shirt. “Don’t—”
“River, I know you’re not deaf or dumb. I said it’s me and you, so be honest with me and answer my question.”
With a sigh, I drop my forehead to his chest as he shifts me to straddle his hips, the length of his erection growing solid between us. Just the distraction I need at the moment.
“I’m terrified of something happening to you on the road, but I want you to be happy too, and I know how good you are. If the opportunity is still there, you’d be a fool not to take it.”
Firm lips crash into mine, his large palms sneaking beneath my shirt, pressed against the bare skin of my back.
Bronc growls low at my feet.
“I’m about to make your momma scream my name. If you don’t like it, go away.” A laugh bursts free as Bronc and Bull both hop up from their respective spots and dart around the front of the house.
“Now, baby, where were we?”
“I believe you owe me another ride, cowboy.”
Chapter 29
