Page 30 of Wild & Worthy

Without meaning to, my eyes drift back to her face and the way the early morning light softens her features. For what has to be the hundredth time this week, I wonder what it would feel like to brush my hand across her cheek. To know how she'd respond. To find out what it feels like to let myself want someone so far out of my league.

The sound of her voice snaps me out of my trance.

"Are you just going to stand there looking lost, or did you come to help me?"

I plaster on my signature smile, the one reserved just for her—the one she thinks means I'm full of shit. "Sunshine, I'm always a little lost when I look at you."

She rolls her eyes, but not before I catch the ghost of a smile. "I've got to take him out and work the stiffness out. He was feeling a little tight last night, but not now."

I want to loosen her up and see that smile again. But I think better of it. There's no telling whether it'll settle her nerves or throw her completely off her game. Instead, I busy myself grabbing the tack beside her. "Well, let's get a move on then, little lady. Big day." With that, I nod and head toward the warm-up pen, her gear in hand.

When I left Addie this afternoon after working Dusty all morning, I thought she was ready. Now, looking at her in the arena, I see the nerves creeping in. To anyone else, she'd look focused and composed. But I've spent enough time watching her to know it's just a shield she hides behind. She's in her head, and if she doesn't get out of it, it's going to cost her.

She catches my gaze from across the arena, so I give her a wink before lifting my shirt and exposing my chest, screaming her name. I watch her go red from clear across the arena, a blush creeping into her cheeks—my favorite look on her.

Is it brash and juvenile? Probably. But it snapped her out of whatever thoughts had been consuming her, and right now, that's all I care about. I flash her a wide, suggestive grin before she abruptly averts her gaze.

The announcer calls her name, and Dusty explodes out of the gate like hell on fire. They burn around the first barrel clean, then the second, Addie riding like the horse is an extension of herself. Coming into the third, Dusty dives in a little too tight. He doesn't quite get underneath himself coming out of the turn, and his hip catches the barrel.

“Fuck.”

That's going to cost her. I don't need the timer to know it. A five-second penalty is enough to move her down another spot in the standings, and she knows it too. I can see it in the set of her jaw as she swings out of the saddle and leads Dusty toward the cool-down pen. I hop down and head after her.

By the time I reach the pen, she's already pacing while Dusty trots around in circles, blowing hard after the run, completely unaware of the storm brewing inside of Addie.

"Hey. It's okay," I say, moving toward her. "It's just one run. You can make it up in Cheyenne." I reach out and rest a hand on her shoulder.

She pushes my hand off. “Just one run?” she exclaims. “Every run counts, Chace, and you damn well know that! I can’t afford a setback like this. Do you even realize how well I’ll have to do in Cheyenne to even think about advancing?” She runs her hands over her face, clearly holding back tears. “We might as well just pack it up now.”

I don't know how to console her, so I do the only thing I know. The thing I always wished someone had done for me after a bad ride. Not pat me on the back. Not feed me pity. Not let me wallow. "Then do something about it, Addie. Don't sit here feeling sorry for yourself. Get your ass back out there and work twice as hard. Hit some jackpots. There's still time. Suck it up, move on, have a beer—or ten—and start fresh tomorrow."

She looks at me for half a second like she's going to say something else, but settles on anger. "Fuck you, Chace. I'm not you. I actually take this seriously. Besides, it's your fault anyway. That stupid stunt you pulled before I came out fucked with my concentration."

"That's bullshit, and you know it. You were all in your head. I saw it, and you know that as well as I do. You snapped out of whatever the fuck was going on in that pretty little head of yours and locked in. This wasn't about you, me, or even Dusty. Shit happens. Dust yourself off and move on."

She just glares at me before shaking her head once. Then she turns on her heel, grabs Dusty's lead, and storms out of the pen, dust flying beneath her feet.

I watch her disappear behind the trailers before letting out a slow breath. There's nothing left to do but give her the space she clearly wants.

The announcer's voice echoes through the fairgrounds as I make my way back to the arena. Barrel racers are still making their runs, but I barely notice any of them. My mind keeps drifting back to Addie. I hate seeing her like that. She needs space, even if every instinct tells me to go after her. I'm not sitting there long before a shadow falls over me, and I turn to find Cole Maddox.

Great.

"Walker. Nice to see you." He drops into the seat beside me.

"Wish I could say the same." I pause. "But, you know... I don't like you."

He chuckles like I've made a joke. "It’s unfortunate what happened to Addie out there today. It was a clean run... until it wasn't."

My shoulders tighten. He'd better be real fucking careful with what he says next. I'm not above laying him out right here, right now.

He must see the look on my face because he just chuckles and continues, "So I hear you can't stay away from the bulls. Even if that means the unsanctioned kind."

Of course he knows I’ve been to a few runs this week. What doesn't this man know? "Yeah. Just having a good time. Keeps the party going."

"You know I'm not one for small talk, Chace, so I'll get right to it." He adjusts the Rolex on his wrist, then continues. "As you're aware, I've started breeding bull stock. Not all bulls are chosen for the rodeo, so I've been letting my men put some of them into these backyard shows." He makes it sound like a fun carnival, not the illegal betting ring it is. "Gets them in shape. With that, I need experienced riders to run them."

I turn my full attention to him. "Why are you telling me this, Cole? You know I don't ride anymore."