Bump. Bump.
He needed this ride.
“What’s with the disco routine, man?” Beau asked, glancing over at him, not even cracking a smile.
“Just warming up.” Somebody was still on the high from last week’s event win.
“Well, don’t dislocate my hip.” Beau gave him a smile under that deep hat brim, slow and easy, making him half grin back.
“Bitch, bitch, bitch.” He chuckled, shook his head and dug his tape out, blew out his glove. “Soldier turns to the left. Big jump out of the gate.”
“Uh-huh. And Lollipop goes straight up and pulls up all four feet. Ride out that first jump, and you’ll have him.” Grabbing his tape, Beau started wrapping his glove tight to his wrist, letting him flex it for fit before ending him off.
“I need this one.” He rolled his shoulders, pulled off his hat and put it back on.
“You do.” Beau reached out and clapped in him on the back. “You’ll do.”
“Yeah.” He nodded and climbed up on the chute, pulling his chaps out of the way so he could get set. Soldier was a big bastard, one big old horn swinging. Beau never said a word, just climbed up to pull his rope. Beau never said nothin’ once he got on the bull.
Soldier leaned but hard, pressing his leg, and he cussed, swatted the big fucker with his hand. “Come on. Come on now, you son of a bitch.”
Fanning Soldier with his hat, Beau got the big bastard standing straight again, one hand on Sam’s chest to keep him centered. The man was always watching out for him. He felt the bull crouch and tense under him and he grabbed for the gate, knowing that leap and buck was coming.
The bull jerked up against the rail in front of him, sending Sam rocketing forward, which was always the most helpless fucking feeling. Beau caught him, arm like steel across his chest, keeping his face from smashing against the heavy fencing.
“Good catch, Cajun. Sammy, get your slow ass out of the chute!” Nate slapped the gate with one big old hand. “Jesus, you’d think you were Andy Baxter.”
Fucker.
He heard Beau chuckle when he sat back and got his rope set again, got the damned bull standing up on all four feet. Beau pulled away, letting him know it was now or never on the nodding.
He nodded, Soldier jumping straight up. He held on tight, his bones creaking as the bull landed the first time and set to spinning away from his hand. Two. Three. Come on. He started to slip to the right and he threw his free arm hard, trying to correct.
Soldier turned back, feet sliding on the packed dirt on the arena floor, and Sam knew they were going down. Both of them. Jesus fuck. He bore down hard, hoping like hell his hand didn’t pop free of the bull rope. He was so fucking close. So close.
They hit the dirt together, his free arm slamming hard enough to go numb. He tugged and pulled, fighting free before the bull got himself up and started running. Sam could hear Nate hollering, could feel Fred’s hands on him, pulling hard.
Fred sent him spinning back into the chute to get him away from Soldier, who was taking after anyone on the ground. The gate closed behind him, and Beau’s hands found his, dragging his ass back to the top of the rail.
“That’s a re-ride, Sam. Better than a goose egg, huh?”
“Huh?” He still couldn’t focus yet, his ass still spinning on that bull somewhere.
“You need to go get your re-ride.” Beau let him down slowly, not letting go until his boots touched the dirt.
“‘Kay.” He headed out, Troy Winter out there with his clipboard, talking at him. Damn. “Yeah. Yeah. I’ll take it.”
He heard the announcer call out his re-ride bull to the crowd, everyone going nuts when they heard he’d said yes. They had a good crowd tonight, folks who knew the drill.
Sam headed back to the back, avoiding that XSports woman like the plague. Balta helped, putting the broad shoulders between him and the camera so he could go gather his scattered chickens.
He could see Beau’s fine ass up there, knew the man had yet to ride, so he wasn’t gonna be any company. Beau was always focused, sitting up there like a statue, watching. He found a spot that was hidden from most of the crowd, stretched out, bones just creaking. Looked like he was whole—go him. He kept an ear out for the crowd—listening as one rode, another one didn’t. By the time he got up into the chutes, it was time to get Beau’s rope pulled.
It was his job, damn it, and he did it whenever he could.
Beau waited for him, bouncing a little, head going side to side to loosen up that stiff neck. Beau had taken a hit the night before, rang his bell but good.
“You keep your fucking head off the floor this time, Boug. Remember this one turns hard to the right.” He grabbed the rope, pulling hard, just jabbering away. “You make this ride and you’re in the short go and the money.”
