April Arrington

The Bull Rider's Cowgirl


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drunken embrace on the bar stools.

      “Doesn’t matter.” Jen ran shaky fingers through Diamond’s mane. “Colt’s fun to flirt with but I’m not interested in him in that way.”

      “Right...” Tammy’s lips twitched. “I oughta kick you in the behind.”

      “For what?”

      “For lying to your best friend. I’ve known for a while now that you have the hots for Colt. Anyone can see it on your face.” Her lip curled in distaste as she glanced over her shoulder. “Even someone as self-absorbed as Autumn.”

      Jen’s cheeks burned. Had it been that obvious?

      “I’m just proud of you for staying focused and steering clear.” Tammy gave a wry smile. “And proud of him for respecting you enough to do the same. I love Colt, but he’s trouble when it comes to women. He knows that.” She frowned. “I don’t know what’s happened between the two of you lately, but I wish you’d straighten it out. It was bad enough listening to y’all flirt all the time, but it’s worse with you not speaking to each other.”

      Jen’s stomach flipped. If Tammy only knew what a fool she’d made of herself. And how much Colt’s rejection had hurt...

      No matter. She wasn’t a schoolgirl anymore and knew the rules of the game. Colt was just another sexy bull rider on the circuit who wasn’t looking for a relationship. Even a casual one. At least he’d been a good friend and had been honest with her up front.

      “Hey.” Tammy touched her arm. “The higher you are, the harder people try to pull you down. That’s all Autumn was doing. Trying to pull you down.” She patted Diamond’s rump. “You and Diamond are the greatest pair tearing out of the alley. He hugs those barrels like they’re his mama, and you rate him right on the money every time. Your skill surpassed mine and most other racers’ a long time ago.”

      Jen doubted that. Other than Autumn, Tammy was the best racer on the circuit. Tammy had taken Jen’s breath away the night they’d met, blasting down the alley and breaking a barrel racing record. Several hours of practice together, thousands of laughs and a mutual love for the sport had led to a solid friendship.

      A scattered round of groans sounded from inside the arena. The gate clanged open and a downbeat racer trudged out.

      “Show the gal some love.” The announcer’s voice blared. “Knocking over barrels beats eating dirt, and she gave it her best. Time with penalties is 28.17, putting her in last position.”

      Jen renewed her grip on the reins, blood rushing and panic welling inside her again. She offered a sympathetic nod to the tearful brunette passing by on her mare.

      “Where’s your head, Jen?”

      Jen glanced back down, her spirit lifting at Tammy’s encouraging expression and gentle smile. There was no Autumn. No Colt. Just barrels and a run. Tammy was the best dang friend a girl could ask for.

      “On tight,” Jen said, tapping her hat down more firmly on her brow. “Can you remind me what the time to beat is?”

      “15.32.”

      Turn and burn. Jen led Diamond to the alley. Rough dirt or not, that was exactly what she was gonna do.

      * * *

      JEN WAS STILL PISSED. And he couldn’t blame her.

      Colt ducked his head and eased back from the fence as the most recent racer exited the arena. The speakers blared overhead on a stream of heavy metal as Jen made her way to the gate.

      Colt tried to catch her eye again. Tried to get one more look at her face to reassure himself she’d shaken off the angry glare she’d shot him earlier and regained her focus. But her head was down, her hat making it impossible for him to get a clear view.

      A fresh wave of tension assaulted his muscles. He uncurled his fists from the rail, flinching as his fingers cramped. Such a foolish state he’d worked himself into. He’d never gotten this tense over tangling with an angry bull. So why the hell would he get so terrified of watching a horse run around metal buckets?

      “Arlene and I were together for seven weeks. Seven damn weeks. That’s the longest I’ve stayed hooked up with any woman.” His friend Judd Marsh, another bull rider, smacked the rail with his palm and vented at Colt’s side. “She called it quits last night. Right after I got thrown off that nut job of a bull.”

      Colt winced. “Sorry, man.”

      “That ain’t the worst of it, though. You know what she said to me?”

      Colt shook his head.

      “She said I don’t pay her enough attention.” He propped one hand on his hip, waved the other in the air and adopted a high-pitched voice. “‘Judd, you’re just not sensitive to my needs.’” He slapped his leg and scowled. “Shit, man. I’m sensitive.”

      Colt bit back a laugh.

      “Don’t you think I’m sensitive?”

      “Yep,” Colt said. “Sensitive enough.”

      Colt’s smile slipped. That was what he was becoming. What Jen was turning him into. Too damned sensitive. Which was exactly why he was standing here hyperventilating over the risk of Jen getting thrown off her horse despite the fact that she was a strong rider and it’d been months since her last fall.

      Though it’d probably help if he didn’t know how hard that dirt hurt when you slammed into it at high speed. Or how difficult it was to roll outta the way, get back on your feet and avoid a thousand-pound animal crushing the air out of your lungs.

      Yeah. He might deal with it better if he hadn’t experienced that himself.

      “Hell. Whatever.” Judd scanned the stands, gaze lingering over one section. “There’s always another one out there.”

      Colt nodded. Judd was right on that count. There was always another woman. Plenty of them. And Colt had spent more nights than he cared to remember over the past four years trying to enjoy them. Only problem was, he no longer wanted them. Hadn’t wanted anyone but Jen since the second he’d laid eyes on her.

      He glanced to his left, managing to catch a quick glimpse of her face as she looked up before facing the barrels. Her long, red curls slipped over her shoulder, obscuring the curves of her cheek and mouth.

      His body tightened. That mouth. That beautiful, soft mouth she’d used two weeks ago to whisper a sweet plea in his ear. That she’d trailed temptingly across the stubble on his cheek before kissing him.

      What would those lush lips of hers have felt like if he’d given in and kissed her back? Kissed her the way he’d wanted to for years? Deeply and passionately. How would she have responded? With slow, coaxing movements? Or hot, hungry—?

      Colt jerked his head to the side. Shut it down. He had no right wondering. No right even contemplating it. Jen was too good a woman for a sexy, meaningless fling. And that’d never be enough for him, anyway. Not with her. Jen wasn’t like the women he played with on the circuit. She was a competitive, focused athlete. One who wasn’t impressed by smooth talk or skilled touches. She was above that. Deserved better.

      A woman like Jen deserved a ring, a picket fence and a baby. The whole shebang. The kind of woman he wasn’t interested in and wouldn’t be any good with.

      So he’d turned her down. He’d torn himself away before he had a chance to screw up and give in. Had arranged for a mutual friend he trusted to get her back to the motel safely, then had hauled ass with the first woman who threw herself in his path.

      Colt’s face tingled, his neck burning. He’d known just the sight of him leaving with another woman would tick Jen off enough to sober her up a bit and take her mind in another direction. She didn’t need to know the farthest he’d gone with Autumn Langley was to the parking lot to help her into her truck. That he’d pulled a 180 right there on the cracked pavement and politely refused