Page 26 of Homebound

Come on, honey. Stay on for me this round.

The bull bucks and bucks, and Dakota looks really stiff on the back of the animal. She needs to loosen up, or she’s going to fall. After a few seconds, she goes flying through the air, right into the dirt.

I flinch like my pain is tied to hers. “I’ve got to go, Cruz.”

I’m on my feet a second later, jogging through the field to get to her.

Always to get to her.

11

I WORK OUT

DAKOTA

“Goddammit!” I spit out the dirt in my mouth, looking up to see the guys wrangling Maverick, the bull, back into the training chute. It’s hotter than hell out and these leather chaps are soaking up all the sweat.

That beast knocked me off good—the bastard.

Three seconds.

I smack my palms into the dirt. I can’t believe I barely lasted three seconds, and that was on an easier animal. It doesn’t matter who you are, it’s tough to stay on for all eight seconds, but if I can’t stay on, I won’t even score.

A bull rider’s score depends on the skill of the rider and aggressiveness of the bull, so if I want any shot of making it on the Austin Rattlers PBR team, I need to start scoring higher on some meaner animals.

“Dakota!”

I’d recognize Patterson’s voice anywhere, but I don’t dare turn to look, not with all the other bull riders’ prying eyes on me. They’re good guys, but they like to give me shit for anything and everything.

But I toss that shit right back. Well, to the best of my abilities. I’ve never been all that quick with a comeback.

Beneath the thick, vibrant sunlight, Wyatt rushes toward me with a few loose strands of dirty-blond hair curling in his eyes. He skids to a stop in the training arena, kicking up dirt around us, and seems to scan my entire body for injuries.

“Hey. Are you okay? You good?” he says.

The words tumble from his lips in a rush, making my jaw tense. I can’t have him hovering over me in front of all the other bull riders, making me look like some damsel, even if my hands are shaking violently from that fall.

“I’m fine,” I grit out, keeping my words blunt so he can’t hear the tremble in my voice, but I think he might anyway. “What’re you doing in our training pen?”

“You sure? That looked like a bad fall.” He offers a helping hand to lift me up, but I shove off the dirt myself, dusting off my leather chaps.

I cross my arms to hide my trembling hands. “I’m fine. I’m used to falling on my ass. What’re you doing here?”

He rubs the back of his neck, and the move is so familiar, so tender, it has me wanting to tone down the sharpness in my words. Wyatt Patterson isn’t the type of man you can lash out at because he never bites back.

“I was working out at Colt’s Place, saw you fall, and just wanted to come check you out.” His green eyes pop. “I mean check on you. Not check you out.” He coughs, going red, and that makes me grin a bit.

Awkward Wyatt is too cute.

It reminds me of how he was as a kid.

“You sure you’re okay?” he tacks on.

The other riders holler from the fence, twirling their hats. I can’t have them thinking less of me. These boys will have the rumor mill churning in no time, so I step out of his grasp. “I’m all good. You can get back to your workout.”

He must hear something in my voice because he squeezes my shoulder with his calloused hand, and I’m vaguely aware of how much rougher it feels after all the years of hockey. “Hey, you did good out there. That bull was tough, but you’ll get the next one.”

He probably means for those words to be encouraging, but it comes off slightly patronizing. At least, that’s how I take it because I know that ride was a shit show.