Page 106 of Buck ’Em Cowgirl

Terrified of how much I wanted her, of how she consumed my every thought. I’d spent the last week convincing myself that pulling away was the right thing to do. That if I buried myself in practice, if I focused on my career, I wouldn’t have to face the truth of what she was becoming to me.

I’d done exactly what I swore I wouldn’t—exactly what my dad had done to my mom. Put work first. Kept her at a distance. Thought that if I left her alone, if I didn’t get too close, it would be safer.

Only it wasn’t safe. It was fucking torture.

She was standing in front of me, looking at me like I’d hurt her. I had no excuse, no way to explain that the only reason I’d stayed away was that I was too damn scared of losing myself in her.

Of losing her altogether.

“Because I’m scared.”

“I don’t know what to do with this, Beau,” she said barely above a whisper.

The speaker in the hallway announced that the doors were officially opening and people were filing in. I’d have to be out for the opening day introductions and prayer.

“Come to dinner with us to celebrate tonight. We can talk after.”

The corner of her lips curled into a smirk. “What if you lose?”

I shot her a cocky grin. “Baby, that’s not happening.”

She grabbed my shirt. “You’re incredibly cocky, you know?” she murmured, her mouth hovering over mine.

It was taking every ounce of restraint I had not to close the space between us, not to press her against the wall and remind her exactly why I had every right to be cocky.

She stepped back with a teasing tilt of her head, her big green eyes widened enough to feign innocence. Her pointed chin lifted slightly, the smooth curve of her jawline sharp enough to cut. High cheekbones dusted with the faintest flush made her look effortlessly ethereal, and those lips—soft, pink, and entirely too tempting—curled at the corners as if she knew exactly what she was doing to me.

“Hope you don’t eat dirt out there.”

Before I could fire back, she spun on her heel and strutted down the hall, her hips swaying like she knew damn well I was watching. She was small but mighty, all lean curves and confidence. The frayed edges of her jeans skimmed the floor with each step, hugging thick hips that flared just right, her denim jacket snug around her shoulders. Her long, honey-blonde waves cascaded down her back.

I chuckled, shaking my head as I turned toward the locker room to resin up my rope.

“I am so fucked.”

36

Fable

“Last time I was in an arena like this, I was too nervous to take it all in,” I admitted with a laugh, settling into my seat in the front row. “But tonight? I love this.”

“Hard not to.” Harleigh handed me a beer. “Bull riding is pretty damn cool.”

I took a sip, letting the energy of the arena settle into my bones. “I want to go to the rodeo sometime. See Gatlin ride.”

I glanced at her out of the corner of my eye, waiting for a reaction. She barely blinked, taking a slow sip of her beer before turning her attention back to the arena.

“Yeah,” she said casually. “That’d be cool.”

Hmm. That was suspiciously neutral.

I grinned to myself, leaning back in my seat. I was going to get it out of her—one way or another.

Harleigh pointed toward the arena. “This is it—the championship round. Beau’s in first, but it all depends on the bull he picked.”

“He went with Lucky Lady,” I said, watching as the crew prepped the chute.

Harleigh nodded. “Of course he did.”