What happens when the rodeo circuit moves to the next town?
Carter, Seth, and Kai—they don’t stay anywhere for too long. That’s the whole point of the circuit. They travel from place to place, chasing competitions and prize money and the open road. In two or three weeks, they’ll pack up and move on to the next arena, the next adventure.
Will they expect me to go with them? Leave Honeyspur Meadow behind, the town I love, the business I’ve built, the life I’ve fought to keep even when my parents tried to drag me to Dallas?
Or will they just… leave me?
My chest squeezes, the bond seems to be buzzing with something that feels like distress. Can Carter feel this? Can he sense my panic bleeding through our connection?
I didn’t move with my parents because I made a life here. Sweetwater Creek Realty might have started as their agency, but I’ve poured my heart into it. The photo binder of every sale. The keys I’ve collected. The properties I’ve nicknamed and loved and fought to preserve. This town is my home in a way Dallas never could be. And I realize now how much that job means to me and how much resentment I’m holding on to that they want to just sell it.
Even as the panic spirals, memories surface. The way Carter stared at me as if I was precious. The way he worshipped every inch of my body, whispered my name like a prayer. How he held me after I experienced my first knot.
I was thinking that I wanted more, that I didn’t want it to end, and for the first time in my life, I felt like my real self—an Omega, desired and cherished—instead of the carefully controlled Beta I’ve pretended to be.
And now he writes me poetry.
I’ve made things so much more complicated, haven’t I?
Add it to the pile. My parents want to sell my business, and I’m just waiting for them to announce they want to sell the house too, the house I grew up in, the house that holds more memories than I can count. Maybe joining the circuit is my best solution. Follow Carter and the others, leave everything behind, start fresh.
Well, that’s if they even want me to come. Seth’s father owns the circuit, and to him, I’m just the chaperone. Just some small-town person who got too close to his star riders. Would he even allow it?
And is that what I want? To give up everything I’ve built for three men I’ve known for a handful of days?
Okay. Stop. Stop thinking about it, or you will spiral into a full-blown panic attack.
I force myself out of bed, legs wobbly, and head for the shower. The hot water helps, loosening the tension in my shoulders, washing away the lingering traces of last night. I let myself just stand there for a few minutes, face tilted up to the spray, trying to find my equilibrium.
Today is the first day of the rodeo. I agreed to take photos for Belle, who’s out of town for a few days, and I have my camera ready and waiting. A full day of work means no distractions by bites and marks and impossible decisions about my future.
Theoretically, anyway.
I dry off, get dressed in my favorite cherry-print vintage dress and comfortable flats, and comb my hair into something resembling order. The mating mark peeks above my neckline, impossible to hide completely. I consider changing into something higher-necked, then decide I’m being ridiculous. It is what it is.
My reflection stares back at me, flushed cheeks, bright eyes, a woman who looks thoroughly ravished and not nearly as panicked as she feels.
Fake it till you make it, June.
I grab my camera bag and head downstairs.
The three of them are in the kitchen, talking quietly over coffee, and they all go silent the moment I appear in the doorway. Six eyes swing toward me. Three sets of shoulders straighten.
I raise an eyebrow. “Well, that’s not suspicious at all.”
Carter’s mouth twitches. Kai grins outright. Seth just watches me with those intense blue eyes, unreadable as always.
God, they’re gorgeous. All three of them, dressed and ready for the rodeo, looking like they stepped out of some cowboy fantasy designed specifically to destroy me. Seth is in a dark chambray shirt with the sleeves rolled to his elbows, forearms on display, his favorite hat already on his head. Carter is wearing a green-and-white-checkered button-up that brings out his eyes, blond hair still damp from the shower. And Kai is in a fitted black T-shirt that clings to every muscle, his tribal sleeve bold against his tanned skin, hair pulled up in that messy knot that makes me want to yank it loose.
It’s my second day without suppressants, and I feel it. Their scents crash over me the moment I’m close. My body buzzes with awareness, nerves lighting up like someone flipped a switch. I want to touch them, and I keep thinking about hands and mouths and skin against me, and it’s taking every ounce of willpower to stand here and act normal.
But Carter. God, Carter.
The bond between us hums, warm and insistent, and I’m drawn to him like a magnet. I want to cross the kitchen and press myself against his chest, bury my nose in his neck, inhale until I’m drunk on his scent. I want those arms around me again, that sense of safety and belonging that made everything feel simple last night.
Instead, I stay where I am and pull myself together, smiling as if my whole world isn’t tilting on its axis.
“We should head to the rodeo,” I say brightly. “I have photos to take, and you three have competitions to prepare for.”
