Page 42 of Buck ’Em Cowgirl

“You don’t get it. He’s been looking at me like he wants to . . . eat me.”

Harleigh glanced at me for a second before she broke out into laughter.

“Beaudreau, quit staring. You’re making my friend feel like she’s on the menu.”

“She is,” he said from across the room.

I froze, my cheeks heating as I snapped my head toward him, meeting his response with a pointed glare.

Beau raised his hands defensively. “Didn’t do anything,” he muttered, turning his attention back to the pool table.

“So.” Gatlin strolled up to my other side. “You working on Kline’s ranch?”

“Yup,” I said, popping the p with exaggerated flair. I glanced up at him and nearly did a double-take at his bright blue eyes. “Wow. You are pretty.”

He laughed and rubbed the back of his neck. “Don’t get me in trouble with that one over there.”

“Ugh,” I groaned and grabbed onto the new guy. “I hate him.”

The guy chuckled while Harleigh grabbed onto my arm, trying to steady me. I shook her off with a half-hearted wave.

“Do you ride bulls, cutie patootie?” I asked, turning my attention back to the new guy.

Ope. Did I say that out loud? Yep, guess I did. Guess what? I didn’t even care.

Why should I care? Living here was temporary. Temporary meant these people would never be in my life for long. Temporary meant I could blow everything up and walk away without looking back.

I’d spent so long with Mike, living by his rules, bending myself to fit into his world. He was the only guy I’d ever been with—well, until Beau happened. And Beau . . . he was a whole different kind of complication. Temporary, sure, but I’d already been there, and I couldn’t go back because he drove me crazy. Just in his presence and I wanted to walk away from him.

Plus, I’d already embarrassed myself too many times in front of him. Like when I cried outside earlier, or when my anxieties spilled out and I asked if the bar was dirty. The way he looked at me—confused, maybe even judgmental—was burned into my mind.

Moments like that were exactly why I could never . . . ever let myself be with him again.

“It’s just Gatlin, and yes, I do ride bulls. I work for the rodeo, though, unlike your boyfriend over there.”

I punched him in the arm. “He’s not my boyfriend.”

“He sure as fuck looks like he is.”

I glanced over to where Gatlin was looking, and sure enough, Beau was standing there, stick in hand, absolutely glaring at me.

I turned toward Gatlin, making sure my back was to Beau. “So tell me about this rodeo thing.”

“What do you want to know?”

I leaned in closer, catching a whiff of him. He smelled good—too good. What was it with these small-town cowboys and the way they smelled? I’d half expected them to reek of cow shit, but no, they had this musky, earthy scent that was downright intoxicating. It was miles better than the overpriced designer cologne Mike used to drown himself in.

“What’s the difference between what Beau and Dalton do compared to you?”

He chuckled. “Not much. We chase the rodeos, riding more often, and we’re gone a lot longer at a time. Most of us sleep in our trucks or haul around campers to get from event to event. The bull riding guys, like Beau, they ride Thursday through Sunday and get chartered around—planes, hotels, the works.”

“They don’t have to pay to get to their events?”

Gatlin shrugged. “They do unless their sponsor pays, but they pay for the rental cars out of pocket, which is why it’s so important to win that day because if they don’t win, then they don’t get paid.”

“On the other hand, you rough it?” I teased, raising a brow.

He laughed again, shaking his head. “Something like that.”