Page 10 of August’s Cowboy Braxton

“He lives around town.”

“A wolf.”

“He’s friendly.”

One of the girls wrapped both arms around his neck. Hades stood there looking mildly inconvenienced but otherwise content.

“That animal has teeth longer than her fingers.”

Addison laughed and walked over. Hades immediately leaned against her leg. She scratched behind one of his ears. “See? He’s an excellent judge of character.”

“He hasn’t looked at me yet.”

“Exactly.”

I gave her a flat look.

Her smile widened.

Then Hades finally turned his head toward me. We stared at each other for a few seconds. “I don’t like the way he’s judging me.”

“Occupational hazard.”

“For him or me?”

“Both.”

She crouched down to adjust a little girl's sash, tying it in a way that wouldn't slip during the parade. Then she pulled a safety pin from her pocket and fixed another girl’s hemline. She pointed out the bathrooms, the snack table, the schedule board, and made every overwhelmed parent feel like they were exactly where they needed to be.

By the time the clinic officially started, I got the feeling she'd already solved a dozen problems no one had even noticed existed. Seeing her in her element made me realize that Addison Blake wasn’t just a beauty queen. Her role required much more than that.

The photographer showed up halfway through the morning session. I immediately didn’t like him. He was tall, maybe in his mid-thirties with an expensive camera and a smile that came way too easy. He had on a vest with too many damn pockets and moved through the crowd like he belonged there.

"Addison!"

Addison turned, her smile shifting into something I recognized as the public version… bright, warm, and completely controlled.

"Kyle. I didn't know you'd be covering today."

"I wouldn't miss it. You know I follow all your events." He said it like a compliment, but I sensed his interest underneath.

Kyle stepped into Addison’s space, closer than necessary, leaning in to show her something on his camera screen.

She shifted slightly, putting space between them without making it obvious.

I moved closer.

Kyle glanced up, his smile tightening. "You must be Addison’s new security guard."

"Braxton James."

"Kyle Merritt. I’m a regional photographer. I've been shooting Addison's events for years."

"Is that so?"

"She’s the prettiest rodeo queen in the circuit. Always photogenic. Always makes my job easy." He looked at Addison when he said it, like I wasn't standing right there.

Addison's smile didn't waver. "Kyle's work has been featured in national magazines. He's very talented."