Page 94 of Trigger Happy

“Yeah, it’s amazing,” I finally say. “He’s my best friend.”

It’s a lie, but it feels like the truth.

“I can tell,” she says with a secret locked in her smile, like she knows something I don’t.

And maybe she does.

44Sabrina

There’s my girl,” Lawton says, wrapping an arm around my waist.

“They’re about to start the bareback bronc riding,” Arch says, chomping on a turkey leg. He’s really getting after it.

Someone whistles, and we both turn our attention to the group of bronc riders stretching near the metal fence. They’re all wearing low-riding jeans, changing in front of everyone. One of them swings his shirt in the air and flexes his sweaty muscles like he knows everyone’s watching him.

“Okay, now I can see the appeal of a rodeo,” I admit to Bobbi with a wink, only adding the wink to keep up our faux friendship.

Lawton grips my chin, turning my head away so it’s impossible to focus on anyone but him. “Eyes up here, darlin’. You’re married, or did you forget?”

“I can still smell the peonies without buying the bouquet, darling.”

The bareback bronc riding begins, and we watch rider after rider get tossed to the dirt. I can’t even imagine how anyone would stay on with no reins or saddle. One guy lands so hard, his hat flies off and rolls into a pile of dirt.

“This is nothing but a bunch of amateurs putting on a show for the tourists,” Lawton says after the fifth guy falls. “None of them can last the full eight seconds. They can’t even manage one.”

I snort. “Like you could do better.”

Arch leans across Bobbi, his turkey leg almost chewed to the bone. “Luke, didn’t you say your grandad grew up competing at charreadas in Guadalajara?”

“What’s that?” Bobbi asks.

Lawton adjusts his cowboy hat and zips up his leather jacket. “It’s like this, but bigger and with actual pros. They’ve got parades, mariachis, and no songs about riding cowboys, so I take that back. It’s nothing like this.”

“You know it’s amateur night, right?” Arch says, standing. “I know the rodeo manager. He’ll let you compete if you’ve got some experience.”

“Compete in what?” I say.

Lawton’s gaze snaps to the arena where I was staring at the shirtless cowboys, and I see the challenge glittering to life in his eyes. “Watch and see.”

I grab Lawton’s hand before he can take another step toward the arena. “You’re not seriously doing this, are you?” I watch another cowboy hit the dust. “There’s no way you can stay on.”

He gives me that sideways grin I pretended to hate after he said we were married, and now have to fully pretend to hate since he made me come apart on his fingers. “You wanna bet?”

I narrow my eyes. He’s bluffing. He has to be. “Okay, yeah, I do.”

“All right. I fall off, you win. I stay on for all eight seconds, I win. What are we betting?”

This is absurd. “Fine. I want a yacht.”

“I see we’re going for realistic with this bet.”

“Get her the yacht!” Bobbi calls out.

“I don’t have twenty grand lying around,” Lawton says. “Do I look like a limitless credit card?”

“No one would ever mistake you for that.”

I wait for his inevitable scoff or a hearty that ain’t happenin’, but all he does is pinch my chin. “Deal. But if I win, I want a kiss. A good one.”