I stride out of the barn, then kick over a garbage can once I’m outside. The thought of her at T.J. Heston’s place makes my blood boil. That’s one guy who doesn’t know how to keep his hands to himself and if I know him, Julia will be just his type. If he so much as lays one finger on her, I swear I’ll kill him.

I storm into the house, then pour myself a coffee and stand at the kitchen window, waiting for her to come out of the barn. I need to think of what to say so she’ll know I just need her to hang on until I can explain. How do I tell her that I’m so overcome by her that I can’t think straight when she’s around? How do I tell her that I want to keep her here forever?

I can’t, so, I have to just hope that I can fix everything when the time is right.

* * *

I hate Vegas. Always have. Always will. The air here feels like breathing a whole lot of nothing. Everything is too bright, too loud, and too plastic. It’s the opposite of the wide-open spaces and fresh air of Montana. Every time I come here for a competition, I tell myself it’ll be the last time. Get in, win, and get the hell out of here.

I’m in an especially bad mood today. I didn’t get a chance to talk to Julia before she left. She was on a call on her cell phone when they left the barn and she got in the SUV. She wouldn’t even look at me as they pulled away. Last night, WSPN aired her interviews with me and Heston. She seemed a little too cozy with him for my liking and to be honest, I’m not sure if I’m just reading into it or if she might actually like the guy. But, right now, I need to put that out of my head. Today is about winning. Next week and every week after that can be about her.

I walk into the massive, empty stadium and stand still for a few seconds to let my eyes adjust to the dimly lit building. There’s a quiet beauty to this moment. This is my church, with the dirt floor and the metal stalls, and the smell of bull shit and beer. This is where heroes are made.

I make my way to the gate and stand, leaning my arms on it as I think about what I’m about to do here and what it all means. In a few hours, this building will be filled to the rafters with men, women, and children who want to see the impossible. They want to see man triumph over beast. And I’m going to give them what they want or die trying.

The door opens behind me, spilling in light from the street, bringing voices with them. I turn to see Julia walking in, chatting to the woman next to her. She looks beautiful, her hair down around her shoulders in big, blonde waves. She’s wearing tight jeans, cowboy boots, and a plaid button-up shirt that hugs her curves. It’s all I can do not to walk up to her, grab her by the hips and kiss her long and hard. She glances in my direction and her mouth drops. For a second, she stops talking and the woman next to her looks at me, too. Recovering quickly, Julia, says, “Oh, hi, Ryder. Good luck this week.”

Her tone is business-like and if I didn’t know better, I’d think she completely forgot what happened between us. I give her a small wave and open my mouth to speak, but they walk on by. The door opens again and soon I find myself surrounded by several of my competitors, their managers and agents. The silence is stolen from me, just like my heart. It’s just as well. My heart won’t be of use to me right now. Now, it’s all about backbone and focus.

An hour later, I’m sitting in the change room with the other riders. Beers are being passed around for liquid courage, but I refuse. I sit on the bench with my eyes closed, waiting for my name to be called. It’s a rough day out there, based on the shape that some of the other riders are in when their turns are over. It’s like these bulls hate Vegas as much as I do. Three guys have already been taken straight to the hospital, a fact which TJ Heston can’t stop going on about. Getting irritated with the all the noise and carrying on, I get up, grab my cowboy hat off the bench, and go for a walk down the long hallway.

The worst thing I could do is to go into the arena and watch the other riders. It gets in your head to see another guy get thrown or stomped. Instead, I make a right and head toward the doors to the street, but I stop when I hear her voice.

“How about if I just pet a bull? That’s probably enough for the viewers.”

The man she’s talking to says, “Look, Julia, you know what the people want to see. They want to see you sitting on a bull. They want to feel nervous that something could happen—which it won’t because we’ve picked a really docile animal. Plus, TJ will be there in case anything happens.”

My heart pounds with rage and I ball up my fists as I stalk over to them. “You’re not putting her on a bull.”

“Excuse me?” the man says, looking up at me. He’s in a suit and even though he’s trying to puff himself up to look bigger, we both know I could snap him in half like a twig.

I tower over him. “I said, you’re not putting her on a bull. Certainly not any of the ones in this building.”

He gives me a smug look that I’d like to wipe off his Ivy League face. “Ryder, isn’t it?”

“Yup.”

“Well, Ryder, since this is none of your business, I’ll thank you to move along.”

“It is every bit my business.”

He folds his arms and smiles. “And exactly how do you figure that?”

“Because I’m a man and real men don’t stand by while some dickhead puts a woman’s life at risk.”

“Yeah, sorry, but I don’t answer to you.”

“You will if she gets hurt. And I can assure you that you won’t like how I deliver the question.” I grab him by his shirt and pull him up onto his tiptoes.

His tough guy act dissolves immediately and he puts his hands up in surrender, but I’m not sure what I’m going to do with him, yet. I’m so filled with rage, I just might give him a preview of what’ll happen if he doesn’t listen to me.

Julia touches my arm with her hand. “Ryder, it’s fine. I can take care of myself.”

“There’s nothing fine about any of this.” I don’t look at her, but keep leaning over her boss. “She’s a professional reporter, not some fucking clown.” When I release him from my grip, I do it hard, so he falls back on his heels and stumbles.

“You’re a psycho,” he says in a whiny voice.

“And don’t you forget it.” I give him a slow smile that doesn’t quite reach my eyes.

He turns and hurries off, leaving me alone with Julia. When I turn to her, she doesn’t look happy. She crosses her arms and says, “What the hell was that?”

“Me protecting you.”

“The only one I need to be protected from is you.” She swallows hard. “Nobody has ever…”

She trails off, then shakes her head and turns from me, following her boss. I catch her arm and spin her to me. “I didn’t mean to hurt you.”

Tugging her arm away from me, she says, “Yeah, well, you failed.”

I hear my name called from the loudspeakers. “Ryder West to the chutes, please.”

Sighing, I reach up and run my fingers along her soft cheek. “I’m going to fix everything. Just give me a little time.”

Julia shakes her head. “I don’t think so.”

* * *

I’m in the chute with an ornery white bull named Pounder. Just getting the ropes secured has been a hell of a fight and I know I’m in for it. He slams my leg against the metal to let me know what’s coming. Pain sears through my right side, but I ignore it. Good thing I’m in the same mood as Pounder. We’re going to get along just fine.

I secure my right hand to the rope, blocking out the sound of the crowd and the music blaring. This is it—the moment that will bring me one step closer to being a champion. The sound of my heartbeat fills my ears and I try to clear my mind of everything but the task at hand.

I nod, indicating that I’m ready to go, and the gate swings open, freeing Pounder to do what he does best. He bucks and twists as hard as he can, then spins, trying his best to get me the hell off him. I hold tight with my thighs and my hand, letting my sense of timing and balance guide the way for the entire eight, long seconds.

When the buzzer sounds, I let go and jump off, then dodge a foot that’s coming at me. Rolling out of the way of his hind legs, I scramble to my feet, then climb the fence and jump over while Pounder burns himself out.

The crowd goes nuts as the announcer gives the scores. I’m in first place by a full four points. It’ll be enough to get me through to the next round.

When the ride is over, I stand with some of the other riders, watching as the rest of the day wraps up. I’m offered a beer and this time, I accept. I’ve earned it. And I need something to calm me down and numb me out so I don’t go in search of Julia’s boss. The guys and I go over to the stalls to avoid the crowd as they file out of the building.

I feel a tap on my shoulder and turn to see Julia. “The network wants a live interview with you because you came in first today.”

I give her a slight nod, then follow her into the arena where Kyle is setting up. It’s all I can do not to reach out and grab her hand.

When we get to the spot, she holds the microphone down at her side and says, “Let’s just get this over with.”

Kyle counts us in and she turns on her big, beautiful smile, lifting the mic to her mouth. “I’m here live with the big winner of the quarterfinals at the World Bull Riding Championships, Ryder West, who managed a score of 93.4 points today. Ryder, how does it feel?”

“Pretty good. I’m glad I made it through to the next round.”

She stops just short of rolling her eyes at my lame answer. “So, tomorrow’s the semi-finals, which means sixteen riders will make it through from there.”

“Yup, and I’ll be one of them.”

She raises one eyebrow. Fuck, she’s cute when she’s mad. “Oh, and how do you know that?”

I give her a cocky grin. “Because I have the best reason to win.”

“And that would be…”

“I’m looking at her.”

Julia’s face turns bright red and her jaw drops.

I lift my hand to her chin and gently. “Give me two days and I’ll be the man you deserve.”