The sort of crazy that can put Auston and his cryptic messages, social media drama, the adulting juggle, all of it, out of mind for a beat.
No one surprises me like this. A road trip to Dallas and a VIP meet with my girl crush. Everything about this trip is off the charts madness. The way it was dropped on me, the way I almost wrote off the Audi – that’s not the focus here – the top-floor room of the hotel we’re staying at with a panoramic view of the Dallas skyline that, naturally, happens to be under the dusty orange hue of sunset as I put the finishing touches on my outfit for the rodeo.
I hook in an earring, watching my reflection in the mirror above the fancy-pants sink in my en suite. I trace the flesh of my lips with my finger, the line of my jaw and the sensitive skin of my neck the way Tanner did in the car earlier. I know he’s kind. I know he has previous for helping out Sas and new guys on the team. He loves his mom and his sister. But lately, I can’t help wondering if there’s more to his gestures.
He rejected me on Sunday. Stopped whatever was happening between us, when I would have seen where the night took us. It was the right call, the safe call, for us both.
But helookedat me. He touched me back. He was hard in his pants, forme, like I’m sure he was in the car before I got flustered and ran that red light. Because all it would take is for him to sayyes, orplease, or give me any indication that I can act on this want for him.
There’s a rap on the internal door of my room that pulls me out of my unhinged fantasy.
Tanner booked him and me separate rooms, though they’ve turned out to be adjoining. I quickly swipe color on my lips and give myself one last fit check – boots on my feet, pearls around my neck, heatless curls flowing down my back beneath my cowboy hat. I’m not even at the women’s final event yet but my smile couldn’t be bigger.
I open the door to see Tanner dressed like… well… a cowboy. Boots, faded jeans, button down, hat and all. I wouldn’t say I’m a girl who loves a uniform, though I recognize how good he looks on game days, but I might be a Tanner Pace dressed as a cowboy kind of girl.
I shamelessly rake my gaze over him and I think he only misses it because he’s… I swear it… checking me out, too. Not for the first time today, I’m wondering if this thing I’m feeling, himandme, isn’t all one sided.
“Ready for the rodeo, baby?” he asks with such a deep southern twang that I think thatbabyis comedy. Nevertheless, a shiver runs the length of my spine.
I’ve got a bad track record for falling for a baller who doesn’t want me back and I know I need to leave well alone. My life is complicated enough without having all the people I care about coming to blows. Without getting myself all worked up over a man, again. Plus, whatever is or isn’t going on between Tanner and me right now, itworks.
But I doubt a little flirting ever killed anyone.
So I ask him, “Did you fall into a closet and wake up in the wild west,baby?”
His lips widen and show me those perfect pearly whites – the kind that can only be bought. “Make fun of me all you like, cowgirl, there’s nothing less conspicuous at a rodeo than a man in boots and a hat, wearing an old pair of faded jeans.”
I plant my hands on my hips. “I’ll bet thoseoldjeans recently cost you more than my school fees.”
He throws his head back with a belly roar. His trim beard rolls into day-old growth that shades the sinew of his neck to the hollow at his throat.
I need a sip of cold water – maybe an ice bath – and while I get it, I grab a handful of Sour Patch Kids, opening my full palm to Tanner as we leave the room.
“Roadie?” I ask, my voice breaking, hopefully unnoticed.
We stop in the doorway, where the smell of sandalwood, vanilla and rich tobacco engulfs me – nothing to do with the candy in my hand but the candy who’s holding out his arm for me to hook mine through.
He stares at the midriff that’s showing beneath the bow tying my suede vest closed, follows the skin to where the tassels on the hem graze my leather belt. I feel like meat being seared on a grill and I don’t hate it one bit.
“Oh come on,” I tease. “Your body will still be a temple if you have one Sour Patch Kid, Tanner. Do it. I double dare you.”
He rakes hungry eyes back over me – yes,hungry.
“One,” he concedes.
I’m smug as I slip the candy into his mouth. His lips catch my fingertip as he takes it, beard gently grazing my skin, and I swear the man could have his mouth somewhere else and my reaction would be the same. Utterly, undeniably, misguidedly melting for him.
“See how easy it is to fall into sin around me,baby?” I mean to tease him but my voice chooses now to finally find its Aphrodite.
He looks me dead in the eye and says, “Some sins are worse than others.”
Then he starts walking in the direction of the elevators to reception and I take a second to indulge in some mental sinning before catching him up.
He’s resting back against the wall, arms crossed. “Here I was thinking I had a weekend off but with you dressed the way you are, I’m going to be blocking cowboys from trying to get in your space all night.”
I’m still blushing when we reach the hotel reception, where Colton and Sas are waiting. We head out to a fancy cab to drive us to the historical stockyard.
The old stockyard is packed for the women’s final. Inside and outside the venue there are crowds of people, which is incredible to see because I’ve been watching women’s rodeo since I was a young girl and back then it never drew the attention or money that it does today.
