Chapter Four
Almost two hours after Austin had handed her the pass to the bull-riding event, Kristen was still chewing on his remark about life separating the winners and losers. She’d failed, yes. But failing wasn’t the same as being a loser.
You accused Austin of being a loser.
It was clear now that he wasn’t—he’d simply had a different vision of success. One that differed radically from her own. But…was bull riding a real job? He had money, yes. But did he have stability?
Do you have either of those things?
Kristen was getting tired of being heckled by her own inner voice, so when the house lights dimmed she sat up in her seat and focused on the dark arena. She’d been to a lot of rodeos as a kid and not one of them had started in darkness.
The music began—a deep thrumming that made the floor vibrate beneath her feet—and spotlights swirled over the crowd as the announcer welcomed fans to Reno, Nevada! Flames ignited on either side of the arena, traveling in long straight lines until they branched out and then the letters AEBR burst into flames.
Kristen’s mouth dropped open. The Copper Mountain Rodeo in Marietta needed to think about doing this. Very impressive. And even more impressive were the bull riders now striding through the manmade smoke and fire to take their places along the flaming lines. There was something primal about the smoke, the fire, the men about to risk their lives in an attempt to stay on a bull’s back for eight long seconds, and, as the music reached a crescendo and the fans cheered, Kristen understood why Austin did this. The feeling of power and anticipation was overwhelming. And the bull riders themselves…these were guys who’d fight wolves and then catch you something to eat for dinner. Alpha guys.
The kind of guys she avoided like the plague because they intimidated her.
But watching them stride out of the arena, walking shoulder to broad shoulder, the long fringe on their chaps flapping with each step…maybe she was succumbing to alpha fever. Temporarily.
As soon as the lights came up, a crew gathered around the far chute. Moments later the gate swung open and a bull exploded out, spinning violently to first the right and then the left as the crowd cheered. The rider released his grip at the horn, did half a flip and landed in a heap in the dirt. A split second later he was on his feet, racing for the rails as two bull fighters distracted the black and white bull.
“T.J. Casey setting the bar on Ignitor, ladies and gentleman. Eighty-nine points!”
Eighty-nine was a decent score. Austin had his work cut out for him.
Kristen sat back in her seat, only to come forward again for the next ride. And the next. The pace and the energy were crazy. A rider named Cody was up and Austin was announced on deck. Kristen realized that her hands were clenched into tight fists and she made an effort to relax.
He was her ride to Salt Lake City, not her husband or boyfriend. But regardless of who he was, she wanted him safe. Wanted all of the guys to be safe. No one had made eight seconds since T.J. Casey had ridden the first bull out and Kristen wondered if any of them would.
The gate opened and the crew fell back as a giant midnight black bull reared out of the chute, throwing his head back and just missing Cody’s face. Less than a second later the animal hit the ground with all four feet and then launched himself into an epic series of spins.
The whistle blew and the rider released, kicking a leg over the bull’s massive head and landing on both feet. The crowd erupted and Kristen was right there on her feet with them.
Oh yeah, she was definitely coming down with alpha fever.
And hopefully she’d be fully recovered by the time she met Austin at the north door of the venue following the event.
*
Life has a way of separating the winners and losers.
True enough, and Austin hoped karma wasn’t going to bite him in the ass for pointing that out to Kristen. Hard Landing, his draw for the evening, rolled his eye and flicked an ear as Austin eased into place just in front of the flank strap. He handed the tail of his rope to Gage to hold tight as he worked the rosin in.
“You’ve got this,” Gage muttered.
Austin nodded. He did have it. Once the rosin was warm, he slid his hand into place, finished his wraps and gave his glove a couple pounds. Gage pulled the rope tight and then stepped back as Austin slid forward, almost on top of his hand. The sharp scent of bovine sweat stung his nostrils as he took a deep breath, then nodded. He loved this moment. Lived for this moment, when anything and everything was possible.
The gate opened. Hard Landing reared and then launched into an explosive twisting buck, bringing his ass up over his ears. Austin pushed deep into his feet, held his center as the bull slammed back to earth, then reared again, twisting his body sideways, rolling Austin away from his hand. He corrected before the bull started a series of body-jarring spins. Gritting his teeth, Austin fought gravity and managed to keep from being sucked down into the well before the bull flipped his center of gravity and spun the opposite direction, jerking Austin hard on each jolting landing.
Hard Landing’s hooves slammed into the ground, tossing up dirt as he whirled. The horn sounded and Austin released, allowing the bull’s momentum to toss him free. He landed, then automatically rolled into a ball as Hard Landing took a pass at him with his blunt-ended horn before the bull fighter intervened.
Having made his point, Hard Landing flicked his tail and trotted to the gate as Austin got to his feet.
“Ninety-four points!”
If he’d had a hat, he would have thrown it in the air. Instead he raised a hand, acknowledged the crowd, then crossed the arena to sit out the next six rides.
No one came close to his score.
Finally. The big win. And it didn’t hurt one bit that Kristen Alexander was in the audience when it happened. Vindication was sweet.
After changing, he headed down the long hallway leading to the rear of the facility. Kristen was waiting by the door as planned, staring off in the opposite direction as he approached. When she heard his footsteps, she turned, her face taking on an expression of cool politeness. Emphasis on cool. Hello, Kristen from high school.
“You’re here,” he said, for lack of anything better to say.
“Yes.” She pushed her hands deep into her jacket pockets, tilted the corners of her mouth up into a semi-smile, as if everything was normal between them. Maybe after an eight-hour road trip they would be more normal.
And pigs would fly.
“Congratulations.” She sounded like she meant it, so he nodded in acknowledgment before pushing the door open and following her out into the crisp night air.
“Where’s your car?”
She pointed to the far end of the lot.
“Let’s talk in my truck and then I’ll take you to your car.”
Under normal circumstances, he might have suggested that she come with him to eat, but these were not normal circumstances. He led the way to his road machine and opened the door for her. Kristen started to get in, but her foot slipped on the running board and he automatically reached out to grab her by the waist before she took a facer.
“I’m okay.” She stepped away as if he’d burned her with his touch, then brushed her hands down her sides, wiping away all traces of contact.
Austin frowned at her. Fine. She didn’t like to be touched, but it wasn’t like he’d grabbed her for any reason other than to save her some bruising. “If you say so.”
Halfway pissed, he stalked around the truck, leaving Kristen to climb into the passenger seat on her own. This time she made it in.
“Nice truck,” she said as he got into the driver’s seat without wincing, even though his hip felt like it was on fire. He was moving stiffly, but he was moving, and that was a plus.
“Yeah. Fruits of my labor.” He fiddled with the keys he’d yet to slide into the ignition, before meeting her gaze. Her cheeks were still flushed and that mouth… He wasn’t going to think about her mouth. “I thought we’d better go over my plans for the next few days. If they don’t mesh with yours, then you’ll need to work out something else.”
“What are your plans?” she asked politely.
Cody Galen popped his hand on the hood as he and Gus and Josh ambled by, making Kristen jump. Austin nodded at his teammates, who didn’t seem to recognize Kristen as the waitress from the casino, then turned back to Kris. “I’m making a side trip to a friend’s ranch. Spring branding. I go every year. They kind of work their schedule around me.”
Her eyebrows drew together. “How long is the side trip?”
“A couple days. They brand tomorrow.”
“The tour bus to Marietta only runs on Monday, Thursday and Saturday during the off-season.”
He shook his head. Not his problem. “So you go home on Thursday.”
“I guess so.”
He let out a breath after several seconds of silence, balling his fist up on his sore thigh. “If that’s not agreeable, then you’re going to have to come up with something that doesn’t involve me.” There was only one option if she was traveling with him, because he wasn’t about to change plans.
“It’s agreeable.” She spoke civilly, but her demeanor was growing more distant by the moment, as if he was somehow in the wrong.
“Why don’t you ask Whitney to drive down to pick you up?”
“Long story.”
“I have time.”
Her eyebrows lifted. “That isn’t part of the deal.”
There was something in her rapidly cooling attitude that jabbed at him. He wrapped his fingers around the keys, then released his grip so that he was holding them loosely in his palm. “I’ll tell you what is part of the deal—you don’t treat me like dirt and I let you ride in my truck.”
Her cheeks went red. “I—” He raised an eyebrow. Waited. Her gaze faltered briefly, then she drew in a breath. “I’m not trying to treat you like dirt.”
The words rang true, although the cynical part of him wondered if it was because she really needed the ride. “Then what the hell, Kristen? Why do you do that…cold thing?”
“I’m nervous.”
His jaw dropped a little. “What?”
She scowled at him as she met his gaze dead on. “Nervous, Austin. Scared. Not everyone feels comfortable in social situations.”
“Get out.”
Her eyebrows lifted. “I’m not kidding.”
No. She wasn’t. “This isn’t a social situation. This is you and me.”
She gave him a fierce frown. “I get self-conscious in certain situations, okay? And when I do, I clam up and go all cold and then people think I’m stuck up.”
“Wait,” he said as the pieces fell into place. “You’re saying you’re shy?”
“Overachievers can be shy, too. And it’s really more a case of social anxiety.”
Austin narrowed his eyes as he studied her. Shy? She’d always looked like she had everything figured out.
“This is why you spent most of your time in freeze mode?” The question slipped out without a lot of forethought, but he stood behind it. He honestly wanted to know.
She gave him a sarcastic look. “Kind of fitting for an ice princess, don’t you think?”
Nailed. Shit.
“Heard about that, huh?”
She gave a small sniff. “Marietta High School was not a place to keep secrets. Of course, I knew about it. And the bets.”
He’d had nothing to do with the bets, but he could see how that would be disturbing. “Before or after you took me down?”
“Before.”
“You never said anything…you know…when you yelled at me.”
She let out a huff of breath. “You mean like ‘How dare you?’ That would only have made things worse. It would have appeared that I cared.”
“Did you?”
“No.”
He didn’t believe her. It had been a small incident, years ago. One that he would have filed under “Failed Missions/Lost Bets” if it hadn’t been for his shock at being pegged as a loser by a woman who’d not only meant it, but was able to outline the reasoning behind her conclusion as well. In front of his friends, who never forgot anything. It had kind of changed his life…and maybe it had changed hers, too.
“It didn’t bother you at all?”
She moistened her lips. “It bothered me.”
“I apologize. That was a swaggering teenage boy speaking.”
She gave a short nod, not quite looking at him. “Accepted. And I apologize for…” Her voice trailed as she searched for words, so he helped her out.
“Ripping me a new one?”
“Yes.”
He pressed his shoulder against the cool glass of the window as he studied her. “Are you going to freeze me out on the drive?”
“I’ll try not to.”
“If you do, I’ll drop you at the nearest truck stop.” He was only half-kidding.
“Noted.” She spoke with a straight face, disappointing him in a way, but he was sore and tired and needed to get some sleep. A few hours anyway. Verbal antics could wait. Time to cut to the chase.
“Give me your phone.” Kristen handed it over more easily than he’d expected and he entered his number in it, then sent himself a text. His phone chimed and he handed her phone back and put the truck in gear. Her car was one of the few still left in the spectator part of the lot.
“I thought you sold your car?”
“This is my roommate’s car.”
He stopped close to the little Ford and Kristen opened the door. “Better give me your address.”
She rattled it off and he entered it in his map app. “Okay. Tomorrow. Five-thirty sharp. Pack light.”
*
Kristen unlocked Lynn’s car and got inside. Once the engine started, Austin pulled out of the lot, but he waited at the four-way stop until she came up behind him. She followed him as far as the Legacy, then continued on to south Reno.
She had her ride to Salt Lake City. Now all she had to do was to pack light and be ready to go at five-thirty, which was about six hours away. Lynn was already in bed when she let herself into the apartment, but her roomie padded out into the living room in bare feet not long after she closed the door. From inside Lynn’s room, her boyfriend snored softly.
“Did everything work out?”
Kristen tried to look upbeat as she said, “It did. I have a ride to Salt Lake and I can catch the bus there. He’ll pick me up at five-thirty tomorrow.”
Lynn brushed back her hair. “Early.”
“I know. But…” she gave a small shrug as if traveling with Austin was her preferred method of travel “…he’s on a schedule.”
“I looked up your bull riding friend while you were gone.” She pretended to fan her face. “He’s something. In fact, every guy on that tour is something. Kind of makes me want to come along.”
“I’d love to have you along.” The words were heartfelt. A buffer would be a godsend, but it wasn’t going to happen. It would be just her and Austin—and his ranch friends, of course—for the next day or two.
If he could take it, so could she.
She said good night to Lynn and headed to her room, where she pulled out her suitcase and started packing. She hadn’t brought a lot to Lynn’s place, so it didn’t take long to throw clothes she’d need for the trip into the bag. Her work wardrobe hung untouched in the narrow closet and Kristen stood, hands on hips, studying it. Investment pieces. High-end skirts and jackets. Crazy expensive shoes. Dress for the level of employment you want to attain, she’d been taught, so she had.
And gotten laid off.
She stroked the pale gray silk and wool blend blazer hanging in front of her. Her last major splurge/investment. Her mouth flattened for a moment, then she pulled it out of the closet along with the shell pink skirt and white silk top that went with it. Nothing saying she wasn’t going to interview in the near future. The firms in Reno might be ignoring her, but that didn’t mean there weren’t firms in Montana hiring.
She rolled the suit in a dry-cleaning bag and made room for it in her suitcase, along with her Christian Louboutins. With a defiant twist of her lips, she closed the suitcase. She was not going to feel guilty about investment pieces. Poor planning, yes. Shoes that would last forever, no.
Even if she now wished she’d put off buying them until she’d been just a wee bit more secure.
The last thing she dealt with was her Silver Bow ‘uniform’, the cost of which would be deducted from her first paycheck, leaving her with next to nothing, except for her tips. She wadded it up and stuffed it into a plastic bag. The bootie shoes that killed her feet went in on top. Waste of money, but what could she do? Regrets weren’t going to help her move forward.
She tiptoed out of the room and set down her suitcases next to the door and dumped the plastic bag with the costume into the trash. If she went to sleep right now, she’d get close to five hours.
If she went to sleep right now.
Fat chance, that.
*
Kristen knew she looked like hell when Austin parked in front of her apartment complex early the next morning. She’d tried to brighten her overly pale face with blush, ended up looking like a feverish clown, and scrubbed it off just before he arrived. She didn’t need to impress him, or be intimidated by him, so she was annoyed that her heart beat faster as she let herself out of the apartment.
It wasn’t the prospect of sparring with Austin for the next few of days that had her feeling edgy—it was the unknowns in her future. She had no job, a big confession to make, a branding with people she didn’t know.
Right.
Austin got out of the truck, came around the back and then held out his hand for her suitcase. Kristen scowled at him. He didn’t budge and she couldn’t place her suitcase into the bed of the truck unless he moved. Apparently, he couldn’t help doing the guy thing, so rather than make a point by walking around him, she relinquished the case and he set it in the bed of the truck.
She got into the cab, taking care when she stepped on the tubular steel running board, and found her safety belt. The truck smelled of leather and oil, rosin and guy. A heady mixture that stirred something in her that she didn’t want stirred. Not one little bit. She settled her hands in her lap and stared straight ahead as he put the truck in gear, wondering if this felt as unreal to him as it did to her. And if every muscle in his body was as taut as hers.
Every muscle of his very hard body.
His shirt sleeves were rolled up and the sinews in his bare arms stood out. Judging by what she could see, there wasn’t an ounce of fat on the guy. Just solid muscle. There was probably a six-pack under his T-shirt.
Big deal.
Except that he smelled good.
You are in control.
Yeah. Right. Totally in control.
Okay—you can fake being in control.
Exactly.
Austin navigated through town like he lived there, thanks to the phone app that talked him onto the freeway. As they merged with the early morning traffic, heading to I80, which would eventually take them to Salt Lake City, he rolled his shoulders as if taking the kinks out.
“Sore?” She surprised herself by speaking. Surprised him, too, if the look he gave her was anything to judge by.
“I’m pretty much always sore in one way or another.”
“I see.” Because talking to him made her feel self-conscious, she sounded stiff. Formal. Cold. Exactly the way she didn’t want to sound, because she didn’t want him to call her on her attitude again.
“You get used to it.” He glanced over at her. “Did you much sleep last night?”
She assumed he was commenting on her pale face and tired eyes, but she decided to take the comment at face value. So much easier that way. “Not much. I packed. Then I lay on my bed and stared at the ceiling.” She glanced over at him. “How was your evening?”
“I slept.” His inflection was dry, but there was no trace of irony in his expression.
“How long to your friend’s ranch?”
“Four hours give or take.”
She directed her gaze forward, doing her best to ignore him, but that was impossible. It was as if the cab of the truck was growing smaller by the second. She stared out the window, watched the river go by, worried her hands together in her lap, then stopped when she realized what she was doing.
“Is this how the entire trip is going down?” Austin finally asked.
She felt herself start to flush. “I’m not good at small talk.” Which should have been obvious to him by now.
“Maybe you should practice.” She shot him a startled look and was rewarded with a bland smile. “What could it hurt?”
“If you have to ask, then you don’t have a shy bone in your body.”
“Don’t you mean a socially anxious bone?”
Her mouth tightened briefly. “Yes. That’s exactly what I mean.”
He gave her a wicked smile. “Guilty.” He brought his gaze back to the road, making Kristen feel relatively safe until he said. “Name a topic.”
“What?”
“Name. A. Topic.”
Kristen gave Austin a pained look. “I apologized. Do you have to torture me, too?”
He gave her another look, but this one wasn’t so much wicked as hard. “Yeah. I think I do.”