Karen Rock

Falling For A Cowboy


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so hard she’d spent her lunches hiding in her grade school bathroom.

      And he would never know her.

      That girl disappeared long ago. Amberley had spent her lonely childhood with her horses until she’d worked her way up into competitive barrel racing and become the winner whom Jared respected. Liked. And winners didn’t complain.

      They got the job done.

      “It just was one of those days when I needed to take it to myself and focus on what I needed to do.” Her look clicked against Jared’s for a minute. “And it scared me on the first barrel today. I knew that it was going to be tight, and I was thrilled we got around it.”

      The rain fell heavier, in weighty splats, not that Hank seemed to notice. She shivered in her soggy shirt as he forged ahead with his next question. Would this interview end before she caught pneumonia? If not, her next interview could be from an ICU bed.

      “And another world championship for Colorado today. What do they say about you up there in the Rocky Mountains?”

      Jared mouthed something obnoxious—it had to be, given the wicked twinkle in his eyes—and she fought back a giggle. He was the worst.

      “I don’t know what they’re going to say.” She earned an eye roll for that. “I hope I made them proud. I know I’m proud to be a Rocky Mountain rider. And I have to thank all of my fans today. They’ve been awesome. I love that they came down and cheered me on. It meant a lot.”

      That, spoken directly to Jared, wiped the grin off his face and did something funny to his large, wide-spaced eyes, darkened them somehow. For a moment, she glimpsed the heartthrob her girlfriends gushed about, and it unsettled her. Sure, she recognized his attributes. Every female with a pulse appreciated his lean, square-jawed, gorgeous face, his towering height, slim hips, muscular torso and endless legs that turned a pair of worn jeans into a work of art. He had the kind of red-blooded American male good looks that made a gal want to salute and thank God for everyday miracles.

      She wasn’t blind, despite her recent vision hiccup.

      But she wasn’t stupid either. Fruit flies lived longer than Jared’s romantic relationships, if you could call them that. Conquests was more accurate a term. Their friendship worked because she inoculated herself against his lady-killer charms. The only woman to see the frog and not the prince. In fact, she preferred the goofy frog to the prince. Their friendship meant too much and she’d never want him in any other role, especially after losing the only other important man in her life, her dad, to cancer two years ago.

      Nope. No way would she ever jeopardize their friendship.

      She tore her eyes from Jared and peered at Hank through the steady curtain of water dripping off her hat brim.

      “A 13.95 average through ten rounds.” Hank whistled. “Pretty neat day. Brings you that average title. How important was that to you?”

      “You know, it was real important to me. Every contestant that comes here dreams of winning and that, of course, is one of my goals, and so to achieve it is huge. Though it’s surprising, I’ve worked really hard for this and I just have to thank everyone who’s helped me get here.”

      The rain had turned Jared’s long lashes into dark wet spikes around his golden-brown eyes. He didn’t blink, just stared right back at her for a long moment with an unreadable expression she should be able to decipher. She usually knew almost every thought inside his pretty head. “They all helped me get through this week and all through the year. I just can’t thank them enough.”

      Jared mouthed something and pointed to the parking lot where his pickup waited. She didn’t have to read his lips to guess he’d said something like, “Let’s go.”

      “Final numbers were one hundred and thirty-five thousand dollars on the week, and that leads you to another world title,” pressed Hank.

      How many followers did his blog have? Millions? As much as she wanted to please her fans, she needed out of this weather. She felt a sneeze coming on, held it in, then jerked as it exploded in her sinus cavities.

      “How does this one stack up?” Hank asked, undeterred.

      She took a deep breath and launched into what she hoped would be a good enough answer for him to quote and move on. Please...

      “Well. You know. The first one is always special and so unreal and indescribable. But this one feels so much more hard-earned. And that’s what it felt like all this year. Harley got injured right before the season started, so that was a challenge. I didn’t think I had a chance to even be thinking of a world title.”

      Especially with her eyes failing.

      A tremor lanced through her.

      Jared gave her a firm, “you got this” nod that bolstered her. He’d said those words when she’d worried she and Harley wouldn’t be competition ready in time for the season. Every chance he got, he’d come home to work with her and Harley until they got up to speed. She and Jared had always been each other’s number one fans.

      Would he still stand by her if she had a serious vision problem? She kicked the dumb thought aside. People her age didn’t up and go blind for no good reason.

      “And I have to give credit to all the girls here because they put on a great barrel race all week and they’re tough competition,” she concluded and shot Hank a hopeful look.

      Got enough?

      “World champion barrel racer Amberley James,” Hank intoned into his recorder. “Congratulations on another great year.”

      She ducked her head and sent a shower of water on her rain-splattered boots. “Thank you.”

      Please let this be the end. Her heavy lids drooped momentarily, and the ground seemed to tilt a little bit. Or was that her?

      “Hank, good to see you,” she spied him now standing just a couple of feet away, shaking hands briskly with the lingering blogger.

      “Well.” Hank’s ruddy face turned tomato. “Didn’t expect to get a double scoop here.”

      “Oh, I believe Amberley’s done a great job of giving you all the material you need,” Jared drawled, polite, friendly and respectful as ever, with just the right amount of firm. “Y’all have a good night, now.”

      He swept an arm around her waist and led her toward the parking lot.

      “Any special reason you came out here? Are you two going to make it official?” Hank called.

      Jared halted and peered down at her. She blew out a long breath. Why couldn’t men and women just be friends? They’d battled the misimpression they were a couple for years, right down to rumors claiming they dated, held hands, kissed even. She blushed a bit thinking how they’d come close to doing just that right before her father got ill. Luckily, they’d come to their senses and avoided a huge mistake.

      “I’d be a lucky man if that were true, but Amberley and I are just longtime friends. If that changes, I’ll be sure to give you the exclusive.” He tipped his hat and pulled her into the unlit, mostly deserted parking lot.

      Under cover of darkness, they ran, hand in hand, splashing through puddles, laughing, soaked and breathless when they arrived at his truck.

      “Why’d you do that?” she asked, one heel up and back on the step bar.

      He placed his hands on the wet body of his truck, boxing her in, and leaned down. The clean, masculine scent of him, leather, soap and a hint of spice, had her breathing deep.

      “To rescue you. Plus, I owe you for bailing me out at the bachelor’s auction last week.”

      A bright laugh bubbled up from within. It felt good after so much worry. “Still not sure if I got my money’s worth...”

      “Chili dogs and chips?” he scoffed, looking not the least bit offended. “That took a lot of effort. Planning.”