Beau
It’s never much mattered what’s going on in my personal life, I’ve always been able to tune that out and focus on an event. Always. Then again, my personal life’s generally been pretty shallow.
Up until Bailey.
I ignore the little voice trying to force me to grapple with why she’s got such a hold on me.
All I know is that prepping for the event tonight, I find my mind wandering, almost constantly, to her. To the way she was at the ballet last night, and the way she was afterward, talking to me about the orchestral arrangement and the changes to the dance the company made and the costumes they wore, telling me about when she was a dancer, and the roles she’d performed.
It was as though by going to the ballet together, some part of her was unlocked, finally bursting open. It was liberating as all get-out for her, and as fascinating as anything for me. In fact, Icould hardly stop staring at her as she talked, just watching her mouth and the way her whole face lit up with passion and joy. Bailey James is beautiful, but when she talks about something she loves, she is untouchably perfect. Like a creature of magic, all shimmer and glow.
And that’s what I’m thinking about as I climb up the chute. That’s what I’m thinking about as I settle myself on the bull’s back. Not the fact my family’s here. Not the fact one of the biggest arenas on the whole tour is packed to the rafters. Not the fact the sponsors who are paying me to promote them will be watching to see if I’m worth their money for next season. I’m thinking about Bailey’s shimmer and glow.
I’m thinking about the way we made love when we got home from the ballet and she snuggled into my side afterward, both of us conveniently forgetting the deal we made about not sleeping over. We have a handful of nights left—it feels almost criminal not to just enjoy those.
I pull on the rope, running my hands over its length, positioning it just right. The bull’s body vibrates as he lets out a god-almighty snort.
I wish I could have seen Bailey dance. I bet she would have been a thousand times better than anyone on stage last night.
I must have given a nod out of habit, because suddenly the chute doors open and I curse to myself, staring straight ahead, trying to feel the bull, to sense his energy.Focus, jackass. My family’s out there somewhere in the stands. Bailey’s in the press section. It’s the only thing that makes me get my head out of my ass and back in the game. I can’t let her see me come off. I can’t put her through that. I let my mind go blank, keep my body loose, relax my hips, hand up. For the first time in years, I make myself gothrough the motions, remembering the things I was taught when I was just a kid, the mechanics of bull riding 101. I have no idea how long I’ve been on the damn thing, but he’s mad as hell, bucking this way and that, and for the first time in a long time I feel a hint of fear.
Every bull rider gets thrown. That’s part of the job. But usually, I like to blame the bull. Right now, if I go down, it will be my own damned fault. Pride has me digging in, completely emptying my mind, refusing to think about tonight, and Bailey, and having her in my room. I refuse to think about my family and how I’ll extricate myself from them to be alone with Bailey for just as long as that’s an option.
I have never been happier to hear a single damned thing than I am the buzzer at the eight-second mark. In my peripheral vision, I’m aware the bullfighters are getting closer and I jump off, going through the motions of my usual celebrations, hands raised in the air, turning on the spot to celebrate with the whole stadium.
And I am happy. I’m elated. The ride’s over, and while it might not be my highest-scoring performance, at least I didn’t drop out in the first second—which felt like a genuine risk for a while there.
My eyes roam the crowd—an arena of faces, impossible to make out because of the bright lights, and yet I continue looking, scanning not for my family, but rather one person in a sea of thousands.
My gaze drops to the press section, and there she is. Bailey, with her hair loose around her face, wearing one of her reporter suits. I can’t see her expression, but I grin in her direction anyway,wave my hands in the air once more, then stride out of the arena floor, my whole body buzzing.
Sure enough, they’re waiting for me. My family, proud as punch, going from the looks on their faces. Even Cole. But they can’t help ribbing me for the mess of a ride that scored way below my best. I’m happy to see them, but all my concentration is on looking for someone else. Bailey’s who I’m desperate to find; where is she?
‘Where we gonna eat?’ Austin asks, patting his flat stomach.
‘I know a place,’ I say. After all, I’m the one who loves a barbecue more than most and here in Phoenix we can have our pick of some of the best steakhouses in the world.
‘I’ll bet you do,’ Cole says, but he puts one of his big bear hands on my shoulder, squeezes tight, just like Dad would have. ‘You did good.’
‘It was a mess,’ I respond, striding down the hallway, my eyes still searching for her. Cole keeps step beside me.
‘At first, maybe. Not that most people would have been able to tell. You just looked a bit less in control than usual, then you got his measure.’
‘Yeah.’ I glance across at Cole, seeing the way he stood so tall and proud, so … happy. ‘So, a baby, huh?’
He grins, looking the least like Cole I’ve probably ever seen. No, that’s not true. This goofy version is what he was like at their wedding. Because it’s Cole and Beth, they got married at the church in town, but chose to have the reception in the gardens of the ranch, down by the creek. It took us days to string a wholenew set of party lights through the trees and across the grass, and move down the tables and chairs they hired. I offered to cook, but they’d insisted they wanted the family to be able to sit back and enjoy the night. Caterers had been brought in, but they did the event proud, making all the staples we love so much—even adapting Beth’s mac and cheese recipe into little crumbed, deep-fried balls that were served at sunset with chipotle mayonnaise and draft beer. Yeah, Cole had smiled damn wide that day, too.
‘That’s right.’
‘You look pretty pleased.’
He flicks a glance back at Beth, who’s locked in conversation with Nash and Mackenzie. ‘You know, I never would have thought I’d be this lucky. Hell, I didn’t even think I wanted this.’
‘This?’
‘A wife, a kid on the way.’ He shakes his head ruefully. ‘Shows what I knew.’
A frown stretches across my face. ‘So what changed your mind?’
