I would feel bad for the guy, but since he’s a horse’s ass—literally—I do not.
The second the thought registers, a tiny pang of guilt nips at my stomach. He did pull over for me earlier...
He also won’t let me do my job and take his picture. Not to mention the first interaction we had after the flash incident.
I shake my head, dislodging the memories annoying me more than they should. The preaching has stopped. Somehow, I don’t remember when, I took to standing with my hands clasped like the cowboys. A fresh wave of heat flushes my face, no doubt seeing it turn crimson as I look up to see every single one of them staring at me.
“S-sorry, am I-I in the wrong place again?” I stutter.
A stone grows in my throat, when their faces don’t change, their gazes not moving from my own.
Levi chuckles. “I said, glad you could finally join us, Maggie.”
“Oh,” I utter. “Thank you?”
Some of the cowboys scoff a laugh, their gazes dropping to the dirt.
Kade Knox is smirking at me, which burns a hole right through me. Jones... is staring at me, his jaw pulsing as he pulls his Tiffany glove onto one hand. His left hand, meaning he’s right-handed. I’m slowly picking up the little details.
“Sorry I’m late...” I offer to Levi but he waves me away, turning back to the cowboys as they wander to the rails, stretching, wrapping, and strapping and going through their pre-ride rituals.
Walking through the long narrow space behind the chutes, I snap images of bull riders in their natural habitat. I mutter to myself in my best David Attenborough voice, “And here, the males in their natural habitat. Preening before the mating ritual of the bull ride.” I scoff through a quiet laugh.
Brady gives me a sideways look and a raised eyebrow as he places a foot on the rail and straps something like duct tape around his ankle. With his hat down and his body bent at forty-five degrees, he looks like he’s in the throes of worship to this thing called rodeo. Dialing up the ISO, I snap the picture.
No flash.
I double-check it on the view screen. Perfect.
As I look back up, a black hat on a fully vested cowboy scowls down at me. “Hope you’re not taking favorites with those shots.”
Kade.
I want to sigh so badly right now.
“I don’t have favorites, Knox. You all annoy me equally.”
“Sponsorships ride on press time and exposure. Those shots have to be doled out fairly. If not... Well, I guess I’ll have to report to Levi about you and Jones.”
I do it. A sigh rips through my throat sounding more like a groan. “God, you are so far off the map.”
He steps closer still. “You mean to tell me the little damsel-in-distress move back down Highway 2A was legit?” He raises an eyebrow before his dark eyes narrow beadily.
“I was taking a rest break. Back the fuck up.” The words come out louder than I intended and heads pop up, gazes shooting my direction instantly.
“Knox. Draw time.” Levi stands, arms crossed, by the first chute.
The man misses nothing. Tonight, he has an earpiece and a wire. A little more sophisticated than the last few events. I look around Knox, purposely ignoring him, and find the crowd is much larger. Like twice the size.
A pair of older men in Stetsons and Wranglers hover by the holding pen discussing something intently.
“What’s going on tonight?” I ask.
Knox simply huffs a sound and walks back to the rails.
A swish of tattered denim comes to a halt beside me. A white-painted face and overdrawn creepy smile fills my focus as a rodeo clown adjusts his hat and runs his thumbs up and down his neon braces that I doubt are actually holding his clown skirt up. “Team scouts are out again. Apparently a few teams are short after injuries. Maybe our boy Jonesy stands a chance tonight.”
He beams down at me, looking utterly ridiculous in his bullfighter costume. It takes a while for his words to sink in.
