Fucking buckle bunnies...You never know when they’ll pop up.
I’m not here for them, either. The only thing that keeps me on the rodeo circuit is the money I earn. Without it, the ranch my family has worked for three generations would be lost to the bank.
Thatis more terrifying than Trigger Warning.
Hands pat my back behind the chutes as I pull my vest from my body, then the helmet from my head. I toss it into the gear bag and start unwrapping my wrists.
“Hey, bud. Better luck next time.” Brady tugs at his own wraps, tightening them for his last ride of the night. His blue eyes shine. Nothing beats the adrenaline and anticipation of rodeo.
Nothing.
“I’ll ride him down one day. Just not this day.” A strained chuckle rattles my rib cage as I stretch one arm across my chest to loosen the tight muscles after mere seconds of bucking rage. My body is way too broken for this sport. I’m way too old. Most bull riders have long quit by thirty. Despite being “over the hill” in rodeo years, I will make eight on Trigger Warning. It’s only a matter of time. I release my arm, swinging the next one up and stretching it across.
“Ah, fuck.” I jerk forward as pain lances through my side, starting at my ribs and tracking toward my sternum.
“Get that looked at, Jonesy.” Brady slaps my shoulder as he pulls on his helmet, walking past. I hiss with the movement his contact makes.
Dammit.
He stops by the arena director, Levi, who nods before palming his clipboard to his side and fist-bumping Brady.
Levi’s in my space a beat later. “Medic, Jones, ASAP.”
“Looks worse than it is,” I mutter, unbuckling my chaps and dusting them off before folding them up and tucking them into my bag.
“Make sure you do. I’ll be double-checking with Willow when the round is done.” He gives me the Dad Look, despite being barely ten years older than me at forty.
I know he means well, and if anything, I need to be fit during the week to work the ranch. So I do as I’m told and walk throughthe corridors in the big old building that stands behind the arena and pens.
I find Willow with another rider as she wraps his arm in a sling and scribbles out something on her prescription pad.
The second the guy turns to leave, I cross my arms.
Kade Knox.
I’d bet the arm injury is fake. The prescription in his hand is probably the only reason he bothers to rodeo. You hear talk around the circuit, and nothing said about Kade Knox has ever been good. He pushes past me, dark eyes burning into mine under his black hat. I swear the guy is the devil in chaps.
“What are you looking at, Jones?” he spits, cradling his arm dramatically as he stalks down the corridor toward the locker rooms.
“Hadley, are you okay?” Willow leans on the counter as she replaces a pill bottle and locks the cupboard. Her navy scrubs hug her petite frame, her dark locks tied back and flowing down one shoulder as she pats the treatment bed. “Up you hop, let me take a look. What did that big old guy do to you this time?”
I chuckle, undoing my buttons and peeling my shirt off. “Dusted up my ribs a little, is all. Levi insisted.”
Her face warms at his name. “Well, he’s just making sure you’re looked after. Let me know if this hurts.”
She lifts the arm on the affected side, checking for range of movement before sending her fingertips over my already bruising ribs.
“How’s your mom? And those sisters of yours?”
“Good, busy. What’s the verdict, doc? Can I sling a shotgun after the rednecks chasing my sisters still?” I give her a wry grin.
“You’re a good big brother, Hadley. How old is Nia, again?”
“Nineteen.”
“Ah, what I wouldn’t have done for a big brother when I was that age.” She smiles and releases my arm. “It doesn’t appearanything is broken. Just some gnarly bruising. You’ll live to ride another day and wield that shotgun.” She winks at me.
I shake my head with a laugh. Willow travels with the circuit. We all know her well. We’re just waiting for the day Levi realizes what’s going on between the two of them. The bull riders, bullfighters, and a few of the chute hands have a long-standing bet going.Long-standingbeing the key word.
