The horses get closer and closer to the finish line, Sarah’s bet slowing down, Wren’s taking the lead by a good stretch, and mine in fourth.
“Yes!” Wren shouts, shooting up her arms and splashing beer as her group passes the line. We all laugh, and then Sarah and I take our losing drinks. After the fourth heat, Sarah and I need to replace our empty cans, while Wren gloats about winning three of four rounds.
“Oh, hot damn.” Fanning herself, Sarah points over to the gate near the bullpens where a lean and muscular cowboy stands playing with a rope. “Think I can get him to use that rope on me?” She snickers. “I’ve always wanted to be tied up.”
“Sarah! That man looks like he could be your father,” I scold her. Sure the man is attractive and wears those chaps well, not to mention the muscles on him, but with the amount of grey peppered in his beard, he’s got to be at least in his fifties.
“Hey, my dad died when I was six. Maybe I have a daddy kink.”
“Gross,” Wren says, scrunching her nose. “Don’t you mean daddy issues?”
“Nope, definitely mean kink.”
Wren fake gags, and then we’re all laughing.
As the next event is announced, we take our seats, and that’s when Wren tells us she used to dream of being a trick rider.
“I used to sneak out when everyone was asleep and practice. My parents hated it, but they couldn’t deny that I was talented. When I was sixteen, I had an accident. I usually had Hayes spot for me, especially when I was trying something new, but I was impatient and he was busy. I saw this thing called a cartwheel vault, and I really wanted to try it. I really thought I could do it, but something went wrong and I fell. I hit my head pretty badly. Honestly, I don’t remember much other than waking up in the hospital with a concussion and broken collarbone. I thought it was the same day when I came to, but I guess it was a week later. My parents sold my horse and never let me ride again.” She finishes recounting her story.
“I heard about your accident,” Sarah tells her.
“That must have been so scary,” I say, placing a hand on her arm.
Wren shrugs. “Eh. Like I said, I don’t really remember it. Just the aftermath. I love my parents, but my relationship with mydad has never been the same. I was angry that he could just sell my horse without a word about it to me, and I was even angrier when they tried to control me. I acted out because of it and have made some questionable choices since. I know they love me and were worried, but I never could forgive fully. My dad still treats me like I’m a fragile child, and it’s just so unfair that Hayes has broken multiple bones from his stupid horse and my parents have never once said anything.”
“Yeah, that’s tough. How about, fuck your parents. You’re a grown woman now. Go get yourself a horse and get back out there,” Sarah suggests.
“Maybe,” Wren says, thinking about it.
The horses finish trotting into the grounds, and I admire how pretty they all look. Some covered in sparkles and gems and others in tassels and even a few in character costumes. Each rider takes their turn, and I hold my breath with each stunt. The strength and agility of these riders is impressive, and they are mesmerizing to watch. I can’t believe that used to be Wren.
Next up are the barrel racers, and the crowd goes wild cheering them on. Making another game of it, we each choose a barrel, and if it’s bumped or knocked over, we have to drink. A young woman representing Lavender Falls places first, and we all stand, applauding extra loud.
Already starting to feel way past buzzed, I decide I should get up and go to the bathroom and grab a water. “I’ll be back. I have to pee,” I tell Wren and Sarah as I get up and make my way through the stands.
I’m standing in line for the bathroom when I spot West and Officer Garrett guarding an entrance not far from here. I must have had way more to drink than I thought because as I watch West throw his head back in laughter and dangle a pair of handcuffs from his fingers, all I can think about is him using those cuffs on me. When he glances this way and our eyes catch,my stomach heats. I’m not sure if it’s from the alcohol or just that his smile does something to me, but either way, my pulse starts to race. He looks damn good tonight. He always does, but tonight, instead of his usual black trousers, he’s wearing a pair of jeans with cowboy boots and a buckle similar to Wrens, along with a cowboy hat. Who knew West as a cowboy sheriff could be so sexy?
He waves and starts walking towards me, and I swallow down the butterflies currently taking over my body.
“How’s the rodeo going?” he asks, coming to a stop next to me.
“It’s been a lot of fun so far. I wish you could join us.”
“Yeah?” he asks with that dimpled smile of his.
“Yeah.” I smile back.
The line moves forward, and I stumble a bit, West catching me. I look at his giant hand wrapped around my arm and swallow down a moan at the thought of those hands on other places of my body.
“You good?” he asks, looking me over.
“Sorry.” I blush. “I may or may not be a little buzzed from a game of bets we had going on.”
His eyes crinkle, leaving little wrinkles in the corners when he smiles. “Sounds like a good time.”
“I like your outfit, Sheriff Cowboy.” I smile, letting the alcohol talk.
“Sheriff Cowboy?” He chuckles. “I like it.”
