I made a dismissive noise and pulled a book out of my tote:The A–Z History of Texas Rodeos. “Please. I see your Wiki and raise you a book.” I’d decided to read the book, it should be noted, mostly to get my mind off Ben these last few nights so I could actually get some sleep. But still. You took your moments for one-upmanship when they presented themselves.
Ben gestured toward the pen. “Then by all means, Stoner. You’re the expert, you take the lead.”
I pushed past him to the little table I figured served as the judges’ quarters. Two men in their early sixties already sat there, looking like extras in an old Western: they were dressed in the full shebang of bolo ties, Wranglers, boots and cowboy hats. Their faces were wrinkled, likely from hours of squinting moodily into the sun.
Both men stood as I approached and offered their hands. “You must be Ms. Stone,” said the first, with the deepest Texas twang I’d ever heard. “Henry Cricketty.”
“Please, call me Lee.” I shook the second man’s hand, and he swung it straight to his lips and gave it a kiss, winking at me. “Beau Simoneaux. What a lovely lady.”
“Charmed, she’s sure,” Ben said dryly. He made his own introductions, and then the four of us settled into our chairs at the table, facing the pen. Next to these two genuine cowboys, I felt like my jeans and boots were pure costume. Which, of course, they were.
Henry nodded at a young man on a horse who waited opposite us outside the pen. “Don’t take offense, but have y’all ever seen calf roping before?”
“Of course,” Ben scoffed, from his seat at the end of the table. “We were both born and raised in Texas.”
I didn’t know what he was playing at. I’d never stepped foot inside a rodeo.
“We’ll follow your lead,” I said quickly, shooting Ben a look. “We appreciate you letting us be part of the fun.”
“Well, we appreciate you giving us your money,” Beau said, with another wink. He waved a hand at the pen. “What do you think of the signage?”
There were Lise banners strung over nearly every square inch inside the pen, a wall-to-wall display of ads that would rival the Daytona 500. “Looks great,” I said truthfully. Talk about bang for your buck.
Henry spoke with his hands, making little practiced gestures that told me we were not the first people he’d tried explaining calf roping to. “The gist of it is, the cowboy is trying to swing his lariat around the calf’s neck. Once he does, he dismounts, runs to the calf and ties its feet. Doesn’t hurt them,” he added quickly, seeing the look on my face. “Best time wins, so judging’s easy.”
I nodded. “Got it.”
“All right, then.” Henry slid the microphone closer to his mouth, and his twangy voice boomed through the space. “Welcome, one and all, to the Corsicare Rodeo Calf Roping competition.” He pronounced Corsicare likeKor-see-care, lingering on the “care” in that unhurried way some Texans had. “First up we have Matt Tanner, fastest roper out there at Corsicare High and a rising star on the circuit. Matt, take it away.”
A country song blared from the loudspeakers as part of the pen swung open and a calf ran out, kicking up dirt. Another gate swung open and the young man who’d been waiting on his horse galloped out.
I clutched my hands together. “Run, calf, run,” I whispered.
Beau gave me an inquisitive look. Apparently, my allegiance was with the wrong party.
As Matt Tanner rode in circles, swinging his rope over his head, I leaned closer to Ben and poked him with my elbow.
“Be nice,” I hissed. “We’re supposed to be gathering intel on how to persuade Wayne.”
Ben darted a glance over my shoulder at Beau, who luckily wasn’t paying attention, before whispering back. “He shouldn’t feel entitled to kiss you and comment on your appearance just because you’re a woman. No one’s kissingmyhand. It’s gross.”
I pushed away all thoughts of kissing Ben’s hand or anywhere else. “Yes, it’s definitely sexist. That tells us these guys are old-school, so let’s use it to our advantage.”
Ben looked at a loss for how to do that, his face frozen in a frown. His eyes were so blue and long lashed. I wanted to brush my finger over his lips, trace the stubble on his jaw. Christ, he was even more beautiful now than he’d been five years ago.
Okaaaay.It had been far too long since I’d had Kyle over, I was now realizing.
The crowd burst into cheers. I whipped my gaze to the pen, where Matt Tanner was tying his calf.
“Two and a half minutes is the time to beat,” Henry boomed into the mic. “Next up is Deshaun Travers, last year’s reigning champ.”
A new country song started over the speakers and another calf shot into the pen.
Henry leaned back in his chair, away from the mic, and crossed his arms. “So, Lee. Tell me about this fancy company you work for. When we talked on the phone about the sponsorship, you mentioned something about a bill?”
A thrill raced through me. Here was my shot. I reached down and pulled a heavy stack of pamphlets out of my bag, passing one to Henry and Beau. “I was hoping you’d ask. And I’m hoping you’ll let me pass these out to the crowd when the competition is over.”
Henry raised an eyebrow.
