Page 38 of Leading the Blind
They moved around the little sitting area in front of the bed, long-short-short, long-short-short. He could do this forever.
Mini hummed, breathing in time with the music, trusting in Bax’s hold. He loved that Jason never doubted him. Not once.
Nothing had ever made him feel so goddamn big. Ever.
Not even the time he’d won the big Cowboy Rides Away round-robin event, covering six bulls.
Although that had rocked.
Jase sighed softly, his breath brushing against Bax’s throat.
“You okay?” he murmured. He just wanted to be sure they were as much on the same page as he thought.
“This is perfect. Perfect.”
“It is.”Woo. Thank God.He took another turn around the room, feeling like a million bucks.
A ride. A dance. A happy Jason. His life wasn’t going to get much better than this.
Bax decided to just be right there in the moment as long as he could.
Sometimes that was the best a man could do.
Chapter Nine
By the short go on Sunday, Jason Scott found himself in the amazing and utterly fucked-up position of covering three bulls—one for a ninety-two-eight—and heading for a perfect weekend. All he had to do was ride this last bull, and he was the event winner.
That meant cameras.
That meant an interview.
“You got to throw it, Jase,” Dillon said in his ear. “You have to.”
Did he? He didn’t want to. He wasn’t a quitter, and if he won this event? Shit, he was in at the finals. No matter what, he was in.
All event winners got an automatic spot.
He took a deep breath, running his options. Con. He didn’t know the bull much. He was fairly new, and Jason had never seen him buck. Pro, the bull was small and went into Jason’s riding hand, which was a perfect storm.
“Bax?” He didn’t know what he was going to do, but he intended to check in with his touchstone.
“Ride, Mini. We’ll figure it out.”
“Yeah.” That was what he thought. Ride it. Win this event. Get the points and the check.
They could run interference, and he would wear his shades and say he was still sensitive to the lights. Whatever he damn well had to do.
He loaded up, grabbing his bull rope. Dillon was quiet, but Gramps was there, right there in his ear by the gate. “You can do this. You can ride this bastard for ninety. You can.”
Gramps believed in him. So did Bax and AJ.
Dillweed didn’t understand. Riding was more important than safety. Always had been.
Then again, Dillon was a clown. He’d never known the thrill.
He stopped thinking on it, because this was about letting his body do what it was meant to do. He could do this. Jason took a deep breath in, then let half of it out. His hand was in, the bull was standing up and all he had to do was nod.
Which he did.
