“And so are you, you know that?” Turning, I slowly make my way over to the fence and reach a palm out. Keeping an eye on his ears to see how he responds and looking into his eyes, I lay my hand against his nose. I can’t stop the smug smile that I give Dean over my shoulder when his horse leans in and pushes against me, clearly desperate for someone else’s touch besides his owner.
“Is this who you’ve got tattooed on your arm?” I tip my chin to his exposed forearm. Dean's fingers work the buttons of his shirt closed—well, the ones that didn’t pop off and disappear into the dirt—nodding at me.
“Ghost.” He's a man of few words, but when he speaks, my whole soul leans in to listen. I hate how I react to him, hate how thirsty I am for him.
“Nice to meet you, Ghost,” I whisper against his skin before I turn and walk away from the pair of them, afraid that if I turn around, I won’t be able to walk away.
dean
“Traitor,”I mumble to Ghost as I hop up in the saddle. Pushing him into a quick trot, I run a new trail into the soft dirt inside the arena. I didn’t get him out on a ride today and felt bad not getting up on him before we head out.
I can’t deny that this woman is getting under my skin. Not knowing where she’ll be next or who she’s headed to see is eating me from the inside out. Doesn’t she understand yet? She belongs next to me. The fact that Ghost didn't even blink when she reached out to him is enough to have me reeling. The last person who did that almost got their fingers bit off. That damn barrel haunts me at each turn. Frustrated, I jump off Ghost and plow over to it, ready to toss it over the side. Something pink in the dirt catches my eye, I bend down, brushing dirt away to pull it out. Who the hell loses their phone in the middle of a rodeo ground? I turn it over in my hand, blowing on it to clear away some of the dust. A picture pops up on the home screen. Not just anyone's phone. Staring back at me is a selfie of Hannah, her cheek smashed up against the nose of her horse. She’s smiling. Not the usual smile I see when she waves to the crowd, but a wildsmile. One that I’m sure few people have ever seen. Pieces of her brown hair wave across her face. The screen dims, but I punch the side button to turn it on again, unable to look away from the raw beauty before me.
When I tap the phone again, a passcode pops up. I lick my lips, contemplating what my next move should be. “Fuck it.” Deciding to seize the moment, I slip her phone in my pocket, grabbing the reins to lead Ghost back to our trailer. Before I make it to my door, I look up to see Hannah rummaging through her massive truck, cursing quietly to herself.
I make my way over to her. “Looking for something?”
“Fuck!” She jumps from her spot inside the truck, leaning over the center console, smacking her head into the roof. When she hops out and turns on me, her eyes are blazing. I have to dig my fingers into my palms to stop myself from reaching out and dragging her into my arms. “Stop doing that!” she hisses at me, jabbing one of those long, slender fingers into my chest. Her cheeks heat at the contact and she whips her hand back.
“Anything I can help with?”
“No, you’ve….” Stopping, she runs a hand over her reddening cheeks and glances at the ground. “You’ve helped with enough tonight.” That does get a laugh from me. One I try to hide behind a cough, but she still narrows her eyes at me, her lips in a tight line. Rolling her eyes, she marches back to her trailer, hopping up into the sleeping quarters. I lean into her truck, looking around and spotting her wallet sitting in the console. I grab it and quickly open it to find her ID. Casting a look in her direction to make sure she’s still inside, I pull it out and scan it for her birthday. Fuck, she’s young, just barely twenty-one. That puts me a solid decade older than her. To anyone else, that would make a big red flag pop up, but that flag looks a hell of a lot more like green to me. My keys fall to the ground when I pull my wallet out. I grab a few bills from mine and slip theminto hers. As I drop to a knee to grab my keys out of the gravel, the thought occurs to me that she makes enough money to take care of herself. I’m not sure why I slipped those bills in there to be honest, but the idea that I can take care of her in any kind of way overwhelms me. The white AirTag dangling from the ring catches my attention. I’m always misplacing my keys, so I bought these to help me from wasting time searching for them.
Her footsteps grow louder from her trailer. Knowing she doesn’t have the right kind of phone that will notify her makes a wicked smile creep across my face. Slipping the disc from my key ring, I slide it underneath her seat, then place her wallet back where I found it.
“I can’t find my fucking phone.” Hannah jumps back out of her trailer and stalks back towards her truck. I fight the urge to rub my back pocket where her phone sits. Instead, I shift on my feet and look down at her.
“Let me take Ghost back to my trailer, and I’ll come back and look with you.” She looks close to tears and my heart clenches, guilt gnawing at me. With her chin tipped upward to look at me, her head bobs up and down before she turns back to her truck, yanking open the back door and diving inside.
When I’ve walked a safe distance away, I pull her phone from my pocket and tap the screen. Praying it works, I type in her birthday. In the split second it takes to unlock, my heart stutters. When it finally opens up, I let out the breath I’ve been holding. I hide behind Ghost, peeking over him to watch Hannah rummage through her truck. Moving quickly before she finds the tracker in her car, I tap into her contact list. A few numbers are saved, but not as many as a girl like Hannah should have. I save my number underD, then share her location with me. Before I talk myself out of it, I pull up her photos and swipe through them. There’s countless photos of her and Queen. I send myself the one on her lock screen and keep scrolling, glancing upevery few seconds to check that she’s still preoccupied with her search. A photo of her with an older couple pops up. I guess it’s her parents, but the date is from a couple years ago. Quickly, I pull up her email and type in the search barrodeo registration.A handful of emails pop up, locations and dates listed in the subject line. I take a screenshot and also text it to myself. Closing out and deleting any evidence of my meddling, I lock her phone and slip it back in my pocket.
“I’ll be right back, boy.” I stroke Ghost’s mane and jog back towards Hannah. She hears me this time and turns around. Defeated, she takes a seat on the floorboard, resting her head in her hands. If it was anyone else causing her this stress and pain, I’d hunt them down and kill them myself, but the fact that it’s me causing it makes it even worse. I always seem to find a way to hurt those around me. But at least this time, I know I can fix it. I squat down in front of her and tilt her chin up with my thumb.
“Let me look for a bit, darlin’. Go shower and I’ll be out here when you’re done.” Her lip wobbles a bit, but she nods. Before she can stand, I press my lips to her forehead.
Giving her a few minutes to get in the shower, I pull her phone out and set it on the driver's seat, then reach under and pull out the AirTag. Taking my own phone from my pocket, I pull up the app to make sure it’s still connected, then tuck it back beneath the seat. I find a towel in her door, take the case off, and wipe the dirt and dust off her phone. When it’s clean, I slip it back in its case and back in my pocket. I close up all her doors just as she steps out of the trailer. Her hair lays in wet strands around her bare shoulders, her simple white tank top doing little to cover her body from me. Not that I don’t already know what it looks like. Before I can do anything rash, like bend her over the tailgate of her truck and fuck her into the morning, I reach into my pocket and hand over her phone.
“Oh my God, thank you!” She steps forward like she’s about to jump into my arms.I’d let her. But she takes a step back after retrieving her phone and gives me a small wave before turning and stepping back into her trailer, closing the door behind her. I wait until I hear it lock before I turn and head back to my truck, pulling my phone out. I open the email image I sent to myself from Hannah’s phone, memorizing the map of events she’s been accepted for. Wyoming, Nevada, Texas, Arizona, Colorado, Utah. Most of them I’m also riding in, but there are a few I skipped out on this summer. I pull up my agent's email, type out a short message, and hit send. A few minutes later, my phone rings.
“Yeah.” Impatient with this conversation already, I hold it between my chin and shoulder as I unbuckle the saddle from Ghost.
“Dean, what’s this email about?” Seb has been my agent for a few years, helping me coordinate my schedule, handle any sponsorships, and negotiate payments. He’s one of the best, which only feeds my annoyance that I have to repeat my email over the phone.
“Just like it says, I need to adjust my rides.” I kick open the door to the small tack room on my trailer and dump the saddle onto the rack. Images of Hannah bent backwards flash through my mind.
“Dean?”
I clear my throat. “I’m here.”
“You can’t just rearrange your rides like this, we’ve had a plan for your circuit. Why are you messing with it?”
Because I met a girl who I’ve become obsessed with, and I want to change all my stops so that she isn’t out of my sight.“I just need a change, that’s all.”
“I won’t lie, this won’t look good, man.”
“Listen, Seb. My scores are perfect, I’ve come in first in every ride. It won’t matter.” I’m reasoning now, something I don’t do.
“Dean!” I have to pull my phone away from my ear. “Some of these are county fair rides, way below your level of competition.” He sounds exasperated, no doubt confused at my sudden change in stops.
