I smile. “You really know him.”
“I do. He’s very good to me.”
“He is. Doyouwant some alone time?” I ask her.
One of the bronc riders passes by, staring at her with a tilt of his head. She grins and then looks to me. “You know, I think I might.”
I snort a laugh. “Sure you do.”
“Well, the other one was staring at you.”
I turn my head, and sure enough, another rider is grinning at me.
Only he’s a little short. The scruff on his face is sparse, his eyes are not a really nice color brown, more like a muddy brown than anything, and his shoulders are just a little narrow. Nothing like…oh, shit.
Nothing like Tristan.
I close my eyes and let out a heavy sigh, hating that once again that man has entered my thoughts. “I’m going to find my seat,” I tell her.
“Suit yourself.”
“Have fun,” I say, turning with a smile.
“Oh, I will.”
Keeping my head down, I start to walk out of the barn area, hoping to avoid eye contact and conversations, as I know half of these people.
I collide—hard—with someone.
“Shit!” I yell.
“Damn it!” the man says, his hands moving to my arms to stop me from falling sideways.
“Thank—” I start to say, but the word dies on my lips when, over the man’s shoulders, my eyes meet a pair of brown ones I have stared into before, only a few feet away.
“Miss? Are you okay?” the man I collided with asks.
I nod, still unable to look away.
He’s here.
Tristan is…at the rodeo.
Outside of the horse stalls.
He smiles, a lazy one that does all kinds of things to my stomach. He’s talking to one of the barrel racers I recognize, Hope. Ugh. I don’t like her.
And not because she has her hand on his arm. Not because she’s batting her long lashes at him, probably being all flirty.
“Oh, Tristan, you’re so cute. Wanna fuck in the hay?”
He would respond, “Why, yes, Hope, I’d love that. Who wouldn’t want to bang you?”
She’d giggle. “He-he, I know, I’m very…talented.”
I scoff at the idea and turn back to the person I ran into. “I’m sorry. Thank you for catching me.”
He smiles. “Of course. You’re all right?”
