I don’t give my sister’s last text much thought because now I’m focused on the blonde smiling as she listens to the employee explain the procedures for mounting the bull. If I didn’t know any better, I’d say she looks nervous. But given how far I am from her, it’s hard to tell.
The DJ announces Vienna as she swings her legs over the bull. “Our next rider is ready! Give it up for Vienna!”
Vienna adjusts her grip on the rope and then the horn buzzes, signaling the start of her ride. She laughs as the bull starts out slow, and within seconds, she’s being whipped and spun around. It’s tortuous to watch as her hips swivel with the motion of the bull, but when it turns too quickly to the right, Vienna loses her grip and goes flying off, landing on her back on the cushioned mat below.
At least she didn’t land face-down this time.
The crowd is a mixture of applause and boos, but Vienna pops up from the mat with a smile on her face while struggling to walk across the ring to the exit. When she finally makes it out, she twists around as if she’s looking for someone, and then suddenly, she disappears.
I pop up from my stool instantly. “What the…”
The same screech I heard earlier rings out, and I’m headed in her direction again, finding her laughing on the ground for a second time this evening, but this time flat on her back, gripping her stomach with her eyes closed as she giggles.
Fighting the quirk in my lips, I stare down at her. “You know, I’m beginning to think you like being on the ground.”
Her eyes open and lock onto mine, but she’s still fucking smiling.
The lift of her lips sparks my own.
“And I’m beginning to think that my shoes are the reason I can’t stay standing tonight.” She takes my hand when I offer it, and I helppull her up. She brushes her hair from her face as our gazes remain locked. But as soon as she attempts to take a step forward, she winces. Bending forward, she lifts her foot from the ground, rolling it around. “God, that fall hurt my ankle.”
My brows draw together. “Can you walk?”
“Yeah, it’s just tender.”
“You should probably take your shoe off and see if it’s swelling.”
A wince passes over her face. “It’s fine.”
“Is that your ankle talking,” I ask, “or your ego?”
Her glare makes me want to smirk again, but I keep my composure. “Maybe.” She hisses. “God, it really hurts.” Before I realize what I’m doing, I’m hoisting this woman into my arms and carrying her across the bar back to our table. “What the…Rhonan!”
Ignoring her, I carefully set her down on a stool.
“That wasn’t necessary,” she says, folding her arms across her chest.
“Well, it’s done. So what are you going to do about it?”
Her eyes narrow, but she doesn’t argue. After a beat, she actually surprises me when she says, “I guess I should say thank you, but forgive me for being taken aback by that little display.”
“You’re welcome. Now, shall we take off your boots to prevent any other injuries tonight?”
After a beat of contemplation, she sticks her foot out toward me. I take a seat next to her, prop her foot in my lap, and make careful work of removing her boot.
“Fine. Although, I’ve gotta say, I didn’t think this is how my night would end up.”
“And how is that?” I ask her.
“With a handsome stranger tending to me,” she says, a playful grin on her lips.
I try not to focus on the comment about my looks, and instead, slide her sock down her foot to examine her ankle. Her skin is silky and soft, carrying that same floral scent I noticed earlier. Must be a lotion or something because I’d expect her foot to smell like…well, a foot.
“My instinct is to help someone when they’ve fallen. Most people would do the same, but apparently they aren’t in this bar tonight.” Lifting my eyes to hers, I continue, “But are you sure that booze wasn’t also a factor?”
“Why?”
“I’m just wondering how much liquid courage you have to ingest in order to do that.” I motion toward the bull.
