Page 60 of Wild Lies

This is home.

I thought when I left Coldwater, the shine of whatever is going on between us would dim and I’d have second thoughts about accepting Maddie’s job offer and moving my life to a town I barely know. But the opposite happened. I couldn’t wait to return. To set up my new life and live it the way I want to, not how I think my parents would want me to.

“Anybody would think you missed me,” I tease.

The rumble of his chest against my ear travels through my body when he replies, “That’s because I did.”

I lean back, my eyes searching his as I murmur, “I missed you too.”

Kade brings his hands up and places them on either side of my face. He bends and kisses me like we’re the only two people in the airport. When he pulls away, I know my cheeks are flushed from the heat creeping into them, and he must see the infatuation I know is shining in my eyes.

He doesn’t acknowledge either, and I couldn’t be more grateful. The middle of the airport is not where I imagined outing myself for just how far gone I am for this man.

Kade throws an arm around my shoulder, grabs my suitcase and steers me in the direction of the exit.

“Are you ready for tonight?” I ask, snuggling into his side with one hand over his heart.

He looks down at me as the automatic doors open in front of us, letting in a gust of warm air. “Yeah, I’m feeling good about it. Especially now that you’ll be there.” He drops a kiss into my hair, and I beam at the strangers passing by.

We’re not heading back to Coldwater right away. There’s a rodeo show put on by Wild Ride Rodeo about an hour and a half away, and Kade is riding for the title, which will give him a boost in the January championships. Or so he tells me. I just know that he’s going to win, and when he does, I’ll be sure to give him a prize worthy of a prize-winning bronc rider.

“I’ve got a good feeling about this.”

He looks down at me, his features softening with something that looks a lot like adoration. “Me too.”

Somehow, I get the impression that he’s not just talking about the show tonight.

38

CHLOE

I don’t think I’ll ever get used to the anticipation that buzzes through the arena as the crowd prepares for the show. It’s like a drug and something I’ve been craving since Kade first brought me along to watch him ride. I can see why he loves doing this. Even from the competitor area, I can feel the thrum of excitement lingering in the air.

The arena smells of dust and animals with an undercurrent of fried foods, and the low hum of the crowd builds as the night goes on and the drinks flow freely. I move out of the way as a rider passes by, engrossed in conversation. Kade is off getting ready to ride, and I’ve taken the opportunity to find a spot for the perfect picture of him. Any I take of Kade will always be for my eyes only, but that doesn’t mean I won’t make sure they’re as good—if not better—as the rest.

I walk around the edge of the arena, poised and ready to take a shot when another rider moves into the chute on their horse. I’ve been snapping pictures all night, adjusting the filters on my camera and taking full advantage of the setting sun.

The emcee announces the next rider, and I crouch down, positioning the lens of my camera between the metal fencing, my finger hovering over the clicker. All the noise fades away until all I can hear is the steady rhythm of my own breathing. The gate flies open, and the horse bolts, throwing the rider around as it moves around the arena. Dust is kicked up, and when the rider is thrown from the horse, I hold my breath waiting for him to stand. It’s a matter of seconds before he does, rushing to the fencing as the bronc continues to buck.

My heart is racing as the pickup men calm the horse and lead it out of the arena.

The emcee announces the judges’ scores, but I have no idea if they’re good or not. My mind is too focused on the fact that Kade is up next.

“Please welcome to the arena the elusive King.”

Shifting my attention to the chute on the right-hand side of the arena, I lift my camera, aiming at Kade as I snap a few pictures. I can’t see much of him; the lower half of his face is covered by the bandana, and his eyes are in shadow with how low his Stetson sits on his head.

The crowd cheers, and I hoot and holler along with them. That’s my man. We haven’t put labels on what we have, but I know that he’s mine. There’s no doubt about it.

I can barely breathe when Kade flies from the chute. His body is tight, one arm in the air as the other grips the rigging, the bronc bucking beneath him. I snap a few pictures before standing and checking the clock on the display. He’s been on longer than the rider before him, four seconds… and counting.

Not wanting to miss a thing, I drag my eyes back to Kade so I can enjoy the show. I hold on to the cold metal fencing, stepping onto the first rung as if it will get me closer to him.

Kade moves as one with the bronc, his legs moving up and down as the horse bucks. With one second left, he’s thrown from the animal, falling to the ground with a thud I feel in my gut. I lean forward, my jaw slack as I wait for him to move. Nausea slams into me, flowing with the panic stuck in the base of my throat. I can’t hear a thing; my focus is only on him as he lays face down on the arena floor.

Come on, Kade.

It feels like an eternity before he finally moves, my chest deflating with the size of my exhale. I race around the fencing, weaving between riders, stock handlers and other crew even as I keep my attention on him as he stands and moves toward the gate.