“Hey, if you call someone cute, is that flirty?”
Hunter’s gaze finds mine in the rearview mirror, but it’s Levi who answers.
“Sure. That’s a way to say they’re attractive, and if you’re telling them they’re attractive, that’s being flirty. Unless Hunter has something to add, that’s my opinion.”
“I think it depends on your delivery and context,” Hunter drawls. “If you say ‘you’re cute’ when they’re doing nothing but breathing, that’s flirty. If you say you’re cute when all they’re doing is annoying the piss out of you…not flirty.”
“I don’t annoy you that much, do I?” Levi pouts.
“It’s cute you think I’m talking about you,” Hunter laughs, and he finds my gaze in the mirror again. “See?”
Levi and Hunter bicker back and forth in a good-natured way, and instead of responding to Diamond, I pocket my phone. Perhaps chatting with him is the wrong thing right now.
Or maybe I’m just overthinking every single fucking thing in my life.
Leaning back, I close my eyes with a sigh.
It’s definitely the second option.
The rodeo grounds are always a place of mixed feelings for me.
The early evening has the bustle of horse people and stock contractors. Competitors chat in groups or keep to themselves for their elaborate pre-event rituals.
I don’t fall into any of those categories.
Rodeo saved me from a dismal home life and built my future. But it also came between me and people I loved. Bronc riding is still my first love and the only relationship I’ve had not crumble.
I come to compete, and I always give it my best, but sometimes the noise is loud.
“Rhett Cuglietta! Good to see you, man!”
A longtime saddle bronc rider I’ve roomed with a few times slaps me on the shoulder. “Hey, Chet. Good to see you. Is this your first stop on tour?”
“It is. It’s also my last season. My shoulder isn’t that great. The kids are growing, and I should be around more.”
“How old are they now?”
“Five and seven.” Chet pulls out his phone and shows me a photo of his adorable kids. He and his wife smile as the kids laugh, and it’s a gorgeous photo. Straight out of Happy Homes magazine.
“I hear you’re putting down roots in Kissing Ridge and teaching? Is retirement coming for you as well?”
“I’m not sure yet. I’m still healthy, but the travel is getting to me.”
Chet nods with understanding but doesn’t comment anymore about it. “Well, good luck tonight. I’m leaving right after the event. So maybe I’ll see you at the next one.”
With another clap to my shoulder, he strides off just as my phone rings.
“Rhett speaking.”
“Rhett! I’m so glad you answered. Listen, I have a hot listing that would be perfect for you.” My real estate agent bubbles with excitement, and I walk away from the rodeo ring for more quiet.
“Okay, talk to me.”
“The owner was considering an auction. He’s moving to be with family, but he wants the house to be with someone who appreciates it. He was a cattle rancher for years and sold most of the land, but this is a house on five acres, Rhett. More than enough room for Tater and your horse, too, if you build a shelter.”
“This is in my price range?”
“That’s the best part. It wasn’t until I started talking to the man’s daughter. I thought of you immediately. They said if you can get here tonight and make an offer, they won’t even list it.”
