15.32. Left, right, right. Go for great.
Only a fraction of a second separated a good barrel racer from a great one. The faster the run, the higher a name moved up the scoreboard. Tonight, Jen Taylor was determined her name would be at the top of the list.
“We can do this, Diamond.”
Jen nudged her quarter horse into a jog across the grassy warm-up area. His white mane rippled over the edge of the saddle and fluttered against the reins. The crowd, inside Kissimmee’s Silver Spurs Arena several feet away, burst into applause, signaling the end of another barrel racer’s run.
“Easy.” Jen dropped her weight in the saddle, took hold of the saddle horn and executed a sharp left turn.
She drew Diamond to a halt in front of the arena’s alley entrance, sucked in a lungful of warm Florida air and tried to still the frantic flutters in her stomach. One more run and she’d be up. The clear April evening was a perfect night for racing. If she could just get a handle on her nerves...
“That was Autumn Langley of Texas,” the announcer blared over the PA system.
Jen cringed, her face heating. Autumn Langley was one of the best in the arena. And a reminder of one of Jen’s biggest humiliations outside it.
She craned her neck, focused on the illuminated board and tried to make out Autumn’s score. The numbers and letters shifted. A few broke. Others floated. It was impossible to focus on them from this angle and her attention was too shot to concentrate.
Gut churning, she tore her eyes away. Diamond jerked his head and stomped his foot.
“It’s okay, boy,” she whispered, patting his neck.
Thankfully, the announcer spoke again. “Give it up. Autumn just cranked out a 17.12...”
Jen released a slow breath. The time to beat was still 15.32.
Ignoring the tremble in her hands, Jen raked her gaze over the cluster of cowboys leaning on the fence inside the arena and focused on their relaxed expressions. In less than an hour, several of them would be battling to hang on to the back of a massive, bucking bull. But not a hint of anxiety showed on their faces.
“It’s just another run,” she said softly, weaving her fingers through Diamond’s mane and drawing strength from the men’s carefree features. “We’re as strong on the dirt as any of those cowboys.”
The man closest to the alley gate glanced up. His tan Stetson cast a shadow over his chiseled features and blond, close-cut beard beneath the floodlights. He straightened, his blue eyes finding her, and issued a tight smile.
Jen’s belly warmed. Colt Mead’s sexy grin and muscled form had always had that effect on her. As well as other parts of her anatomy. It never mattered where she was or what she was doing. All it took was one crooked grin from Colt and her blood rushed. Her mind shot straight to imagining what it would be like to be kissed by him. To have his strong hands running over her bod—
Her mouth twisted. It’d been that way since they’d first met, four years ago. Twenty years old, Jen had been touring the rodeo circuit alone for over a year. Colt, twenty-one at the time, rode bulls professionally. Jen had immediately pegged Colt for the player he was, but she’d still gotten a kick out of his flirtatious banter and it hadn’t taken long for them to form a strong bond.
Only, there’d always been a sexual undercurrent to their friendship. One she’d been foolish enough to act on two weeks ago.
Colt leaned farther over the rail, his muscular bulk stretching his blue shirt and snug jeans. His smile vanished as he studied her expression.
Jen’s breath caught at the hot effects of his sensual eyes traveling to her chest. An aggravating inconvenience, since he’d insisted they remain friends.
She dropped her gaze and squirmed. Get it together, girl.
Here she was, about to start a run, and her focus was on Colt. He was becoming a distraction. A threat to what she’d worked so hard to achieve. She had to perform well to get to the finals in Vegas. And she would. No matter how hard she had to work. That board at the Thomas & Mack arena was going to light up with her name at the top of the list.
There was no room in her life for a womanizer. Especially one who had already shot her down, then taken off with another woman. Autumn Langley, to be exact.
The gate clanged open. Autumn trotted out on her beige mare, her dark gaze narrowing on Jen’s face.
Great. Just great. Of all the people to catch her salivating over Colt. And why the heck was Jen even concerned with either of them, anyway? She had a race to win.
Jen firmed her grip on Diamond’s reins and looked away from them. Both of them...together. Her stomach roiled at the images flashing through her mind.
“Colt’s looking fine these days.” Autumn smirked and led her mare in a circle around Diamond. The rhinestones and elegant embroidery on her shirt glinted under the light spilling from the arena, drawing attention to her shapely figure. “Tell him to swing by my RV if he gets bored later.” She laughed throatily. “That man knows how to give a woman a good time.”
Ignore her. A bad run could make anyone angry. Focus on winning.
Jen lifted her chin and smiled. “I’ll be sure to let him know.”
“Good.” Autumn’s mouth flattened into a thin line, her voice curt. “He’ll be grateful to you.”
Jen dismissed the furious heat sparking through her veins and repositioned herself in the saddle. It wasn’t any of her business who Colt spent time with. She knew he partied hard. Had watched firsthand as he’d sweet-talked women in the arena over the years. That was the very reason she’d initially refused to give in to her attraction to him.
One she should’ve remembered when she’d had too many beers, pulled a boneheaded move and kissed him. Instead, she’d suggested they act on their attraction, get it out of their system and consider being friends with benefits—behaving more like a buckle bunny than a seasoned, focused athlete.
She swallowed hard past the lump in her throat, finding it difficult to drag in air.
Autumn shook her head and tossed her black hair over her shoulder. “Dirt’s bad in there.” Her tone softened. “Makes for a tough run. Sure sucks being last.”
Last. Jen winced. She’d always been last. The last student in her class to learn to read. A skill she’d struggled to master due to a learning disability. And the lowest ranked student in her graduating class. Her grades were the worst of all and far below the acceptable level of universities.
She hadn’t let that stop her from pursuing success, though. No way was she going to end up just another small-town nothing. She’d gotten that high school diploma, found work on a local ranch and earned enough money to strike out on her own. Chasing a dream of making a name for herself in the one thing she’d always exceled at.
Racing. Jen flashed a brighter smile and met Autumn’s stare head-on. “I don’t mind bringing up the rear. Being last just makes you hungrier to be first.”
That she knew from experience.
Autumn sighed, eyeing Diamond. “Seriously, girl. Take care out there. That roughed-up dirt can trip up any horse.”
“Don’t you have some cooling down to do, Autumn?” Tammy Jenkins, Colt’s cousin and Jen’s traveling partner, squeezed between the horses, her elbow bumping Jen’s leg. “This is the warm-up ring.”
“Warm-up ring?” Autumn scoffed, surveying the grassy patch surrounding them. “More like someone’s backyard. No wonder everyone’s time is off tonight, with no decent place to prepare.”
“You’re the only one whose time is off,” Tammy said. “There’s