Page 118 of Buckin' Around

And especiallynotsweet.

“Look Ives, there’s Daddy helping Uncle Brady. You see?” I point, dropping my head to her level, but she’s about as interested in bull riding—or the cowboys—as I am in donating my organs to the black market. She grabs for the snacks in her diaper bag. I relent, letting her have a small pack of rice crackers to nibble on while I sit here and wonder if her only parent will walk away without life-threatening injuries tonight.

I hate this part of Spencer’s life.

Especially, I hate it for Ives. And after hearing Maggie’s story... Well, that just cemented every fear I’ve ever had for Spencer and Ivy.

It makes the concept of leaving them both harder still.

My phone buzzes and I reach into the bag and swipe it up.

Chloe.

I slide to answer, but the crowd roars as Little Fizzer bursts from the chute.

I wave and then hold the phone back so she can see Ivy too before flipping the screen to Brady raking the shoulder of the fastest spinning bull I’ve ever seen.

Now I get why they call him Little Fizzer.

“Riles?” I barely hear my name over the noise.

Turning the phone back around I put her as close as I can without her having to talk to my nostrils.

“Hey Chlo, how are you?”

“Hi Ivy!”

So much for her big sister, then.

I help Ivy wave, and she tries to grab the screen with her mushed-rice-cake-covered hands.

“No, bubba, this is Riley’s.” I hold the phone out of her reach as much as I can.

“Riles, she is getting so big,” Chlo says, her gaze drifting back to Ivy. “Aren’t you such a big girl now. Look how much you grew!”

Her voice has risen an octave as she praises Ivy. It’s adorable.

I wish all my favorite people could be in one place. Hell, I’d settle for them being on one continent, at this point.

“How’s the cowboy going?”

Heat flushes my face before I can school my reaction.

“Riles... no. Are you guys, like, dating now? Is he coming back with you?” Her face falls. “You are coming back, right?”

“Of course I’m coming home, Chlo. It’s jus?—”

“Ladies and gentlemen!” The announcer cuts me off. “Our last ride for the night is here. This cowboy has been on the circuit for almost a decade. Took out the PBR title five years ago, and tonight he is riding for the Alberta Bravos! Give it up for Spenceeerrrr Lockwood!”

Wait . . . Spence won a PBR?

We are absolutely unpacking that on the way home.

“Oh my god, Riles, turn the camera around! I have to see this man ride.”

I chuckle and do as she asks.

The chute flies open. Spencer is tethered to a black-and-white bull with long horns, and it wastes no time kicking up and spinning to the left.