Page 108 of Buck ’Em Cowgirl

“Hi, baby,” he murmured.

The camera was on us—I felt it, the weight of thousands of eyes. My face went hot, my breath hitching. Before I could say a word, he cupped my cheeks and crashed his mouth to mine, stealing my air, my thoughts—everything. He devoured me.

I let him.

The arena exploded. Cheering, stomping, screaming. Harleigh’s voice rang somewhere close, but I could barely hear it over the pounding of my pulse.

Beau pulled back enough to smirk, his thumb brushing my cheek, eyes never leaving mine.

“See ya soon, Cowgirl,” he murmured before dropping back down, moving like the world was his and he had nothing to prove.

He grabbed his rope from the bullfighters, his stride easy, loose, like he hadn’t won the biggest ride of his life.

I sat down—slowly, carefully—wishing I could disappear because the camera was still on me.

I lifted a hand in a weak wave before it finally panned away. I glanced over at Harleigh, whose lips were pursed.

“Not. A. Single. Word.”

She laughed so hard she was holding her stomach. “You’ve got it bad, Fabs.”

I glanced up at the jumbo screen, watching as they brought Beau back out to the arena and interviewed him.

“Well, that was quite an exit, Beau.” The interviewer teased him.

He chuckled, pointing straight at me. “Had to make sure everyone knew how happy I was that my lady was here to see me win.”

My.

Lady.

Fuck. Me.

I could feel Harleigh’s stare burning into my shoulder, but I refused to look.

“The infamous Beaudreau off the market, then?”

“Very much so,” he answered without hesitation.

“Well, that was one hell of a ride to dedicate to her. She’s a lucky lady. Congrats on winning⁠—”

I didn’t need to hear anything else. I turned, grabbed Harleigh’s hand, and pulled her with me.

“B-But we’re supposed to⁠—”

“Fuck the content. We have enough. Let’s go.”

“You’re not skipping out on dinner.”

“I sure as fuck am.”

I stormed out of the stadium, unsure of why I was so mad, but flames were hot in my body.

“What’s wrong? You never leave work. I know how⁠—”

“I hate him.” I was seething. “I hate him so fucking much.”

Harleigh nodded, letting me vent, but I couldn’t stand still. Once we reached the parking lot, I paced.