“Not a one.” Matt frowned. “You can’t be thinking of getting out—”
“Hell no. Now that you’re off the circuit, maybe I can finally win another title.”
“Right.” Matt laughed. “I seem to remember you leaving me in the dust more than a few times.”
“Never when it counted.”
“Man, you’ve had some bad luck right before the finals. I should’ve convinced you to drop out when we changed the date. You’re the main draw this weekend. A lot of people are coming to see you ride Twister, but I should’ve thought this through.”
“Come on, you probably figured I wouldn’t make it to the finals.”
Matt reared his head back, eyes narrowed. “What the hell’s the matter with you, Styles?”
Ethan grinned. “Just joking.” No way he’d admit that he had considered bailing because he couldn’t risk injury. But then he’d only be superstitious about bad karma or some other bullshit. “It’s a worthy cause. I’m glad to do it.”
Just before Ethan turned to check on the blonde, he caught his friend’s sympathetic look. Most rodeo cowboys started young and came from families of die-hard fans. Matt had been a casual fan who’d climbed onto his first bull at a late age, and yet he understood the pressure coming at Ethan from all sides. Winning another gold buckle wasn’t just about ego or satisfying a lifelong dream. He came from rodeo royalty. Both his parents held multiple world champion titles. Most of their fans were also his fans. A lot of expectations drove him to succeed.
The woman was still standing at the bar, guys on either side of her vying for her attention, but she didn’t seem interested. She slowly sipped a drink, checked her phone and then leaned over the bar to talk to the older woman filling pitchers of beer.
Ethan smirked to himself. Bending over like that sure wouldn’t discourage guys from hitting on her. She knew how to wear a pair of plain faded jeans. Her boots were brown, low-heeled, scuffed. And the long-sleeve blue T-shirt was nothing fancy. No, she sure wasn’t dressed to be noticed like the other women circling the room. Maybe she lived on a nearby ranch and had just quit work.
Damn, she was hot.
And familiar. Yeah, women were plentiful for a bull rider, and he was no saint. He also wasn’t the type to forget a name or face. It sure felt as though he’d run into her before. More than that, he felt this odd pull... The kind of pull that could get him into trouble. Which he did not need, especially not now.
Someone called out to Matt and he waved in acknowledgment. “We’re not gonna find a table or a place at the bar. Maybe we should head over to the diner. Unless you’re looking to hook up with that blonde.”
“What blonde?” Ethan asked, and Matt smiled. “That describes half the women in here.”
“I’m talking about the one at the bar you’ve been eyeing.”
“Nah, I’m not looking for company. I’m keeping my nose clean until the finals.”
“A whole week? You’ll never make it.”
“Probably not.” Ethan laughed and glanced back at the bar. “Is she local?”
Matt studied her for a moment. “I don’t think so.”
“Well, I’ll be damned if it isn’t the twins,” a voice boomed from the back room.
Ethan and Matt exchanged glances. They both knew it was Tex, a bronc rider from Dallas. Though he wasn’t the only one who called them the twins. They’d joined the pro tour within months of each other, and in the beginning they’d often been mistaken for brothers. Ethan figured it wasn’t so much because they shared similar builds, or even because they both had light brown hair and blue eyes. It was their height. Six feet was tall for a bull rider.
“What are you boys doing standing there talking like two old women?” Tex yelled, a pool stick in one hand, an empty mug in the other. “Grab yourselves a pitcher and get on back here.”
“Guess he’s had a few,” Ethan said. Tex was quiet by nature. But after a couple of beers...
“He’d better be able to ride tomorrow,” Matt muttered, then turned when someone else shouted his name.
More people had poured into the bar. Ethan was willing to bet the place had reached capacity before the last ten customers had squeezed inside. And now that big-mouthed Tex had called attention to them, fans were approaching him and Matt for autographs.
They each accepted a pen and began scrawling their names. “You check in at The Boarding House yet?” Matt asked under his breath.
“An hour ago.”
“It’s not too late. You can stay out at the Lone Wolf. We’ve got a big house, trailer hookups. The inn’s overbooked, so the owner won’t have any trouble renting out your room. And my wife’s dying to meet you.”
“Hey, that’s right. You’re a married man now. Sorry I missed your wedding.”
“No problem. I warned Rachel there’d be conflicts no matter which weekend she chose.”
Ethan smiled as he passed the Safe Haven flyer he’d just signed to a middle-aged woman wearing a promotional Professional Bull Riders T-shirt from the 2010 finals, the year he wanted wiped from his memory forever. To be kept from the finals because of an injury was one thing, but to make it that far and then get hurt in the third round? Talk about fate landing a sucker punch.
This year nothing was going to keep him from the finals. Or from winning another gold buckle.
Nothing. Period.
SOPHIE SURE WISHED she’d known he was here in Blackfoot Falls for a rodeo before she’d left Wyoming. The event was a fund-raiser, so of course it wasn’t listed on the PBR tour. The whole town, which wasn’t saying much, since it was so small they had no traffic lights, was busting at the seams with rodeo fans. There was only one inn, a dude ranch twenty minutes away and a number of impromptu bed-and-breakfasts scattered around the area, all of which were booked. So was the large trailer park over thirty minutes away, not that a vacancy there would do her any good.
Somehow she had to get him alone. No clue how she was going to do it with so many fans clamoring for his attention. Those crazy people would string her up if they knew she planned to drag their favorite bull rider back to Wyoming.
The buckle bunnies worried her the most. Turning completely around so that her back was against the bar, she sipped her tonic water and watched the women practically line up, just waiting their turns to hit on Ethan.
She didn’t care one bit. If he had enough stamina to screw every last one of them, then God bless him. She was twenty-six, not a silly teenager anymore, and he no longer haunted her dreams. Though if he took one of those eager young ladies back to his room for the night, Sophie could have a problem.
It might mean she’d have to wait till morning to bag him. That left her a very narrow window before the rodeo started at noon.
Maybe she’d have to seduce him herself.
The thought sent a bolt of heat zinging through her body. A hurried sip of tonic water barely made it down her throat. He was still hot as hell. She’d be fooling herself if she couldn’t admit that much. Tall and lean with the perfect proportion of muscle, and those dreamy blue eyes... Good Lord.
Bumping into him when she first entered the bar had thrown her. She hadn’t been prepared at all. But the wig had done its job. Even up close he hadn’t recognized her, and now she was ready for him.
In