Page 115 of Buck ’Em Cowgirl

“Beau, have you seen the world rankings yet?” Harleigh leaned over.

“Not yet.”

“Holy shit.” She tossed her phone at me, and I caught it, scanning the article.

First. I was officially ranked first in the world championship standings. My chest tightened, pride and adrenaline mixing in my veins.

“Wow,” Fable murmured, reading over my shoulder. “That’s amazing. Congrats.”

Grinning, I leaned over and pressed a kiss to her cheek. “Thanks, baby.”

She flushed, and I lowered my voice. “Is this okay? Too public?”

She glanced at me, then shook her head softly. “No, it’s fine. Just . . . gonna take some time to get used to.”

I squeezed her thigh, a silent promise that I’d give her all the time she needed.

Fable pulled out her phone, slid in her headphones, and tapped on a show. I watched the faint reflection of the screen in her green eyes as she got lost. She had this little furrow between her brows when she focused too hard, and I memorized it because I wanted to know everything she loved.

As the hum of the plane settled into a steady rhythm, she shifted beside me, her head falling softly onto my shoulder. My chest tightened from the weight of something I hadn’t realized I’d been missing.

I understood my dad in a way I never thought I would. All those years, the sacrifices he made, the distance—maybe it wasn’t about bull riding. Maybe it was about holding onto the one thing that gave him purpose when everything else slipped away. As I sat there with Fable leaning into me, her warmth soaking into my skin, I knew I couldn’t live that way.

I wouldn’t trade this. Not for anything.

Carefully, I reached up, brushing a rogue strand of hair from her face. My fingers lingered against her cheek longer than they should’ve.

She was mine.

40

Fable

The past two months had been nothing short of amazing. Life felt lighter, the weather was getting warmer, and somehow, this small Texas town had started to feel like home.

Leaning against the paddock fence, I watched Beau, Dalton, and Gatlin practice on some of Kline’s retired bulls. The sun warmed my shoulders as I adjusted the brim of the fancy cowgirl hat Beau had gifted me for our one-month anniversary. It was absurdly expensive, but I loved it—and maybe I wore it more than necessary.

There was something about the hat that made me feel like I belonged. Everyone around here had a hat they loved, each one a mark of where they’d been and who they were. Wearing mine felt like more than an accessory—it felt like I’d been welcomed into something bigger, a place where I could finally put down roots.

“Hi, boys,” I called out, gripping the fence as they glanced up from the chute.

“You done with work, Cowgirl?” Beau shouted, wiping the sweat from his brow. His mustache twitched as that signature smirk slid across his lips.

I tipped my hat at him in response, earning a chuckle from all three of them.

“Kline still can’t stop talking about last weekend’s auction,” Dalton added as he climbed onto the fence beside me. “Said y’all brought in more eyes than he’s ever had.”

“Yup,” I said, popping the p. “Between the live feed, social media, and Harleigh’s killer promo work, we’re basically unstoppable now.”

“Sounds like we gotta start charging y’all for advertising space,” Gatlin teased, adjusting his rope as he sat down on the edge of the chute.

I rolled my eyes. “Yeah, I’ll send Kline the invoice for making your socials look good.”

The boys were often featured in our social media campaign since it was convenient to use them and they were always around practicing with Kline’s bulls. We’d even established a new contract with the teams season to use Kline’s ranches and bulls as a place where the Dallas Roses could practice.

Beau stepped closer to the fence, his eyes dark beneath the brim of his hat. Even after two months, the way he looked at me still sent a shiver down my spine.

He reached over the fence, fingers curling under the brim of my hat to tilt it back. “Hi, Cowgirl.”