Tossing him a wink, I reply, “Deal.”
32
XANDER DAWSON
Four Months Later
“I’m gonna grab another beer.” Raising off the bleachers, I glance down at where Grady, Boone’s brother-in-law, sits with a bouncy Suzy on his lap. “You guys want anything?”
“Ice!” Suzy bursts with her hands thrown into the air and big, cheeky grin on her face.
I look at Grady, chuckling from her enthusiasm. “Is it okay if she has one?”
“Yeah, but make sure it’s small or she won’t sleep tonight. Can you grab me a bottle of water? I got cash in my?—”
“Don’t worry about it,” I cut him off. “I got you.”
“Thanks, man.” Grady’s smile is warm and appreciative when I turn and head toward the concession stands.
We’re in Dirks, Colorado, this weekend for a back-to-back rodeo night at the county fair. Aside from last week, when everybody was home for Stampede Days, this is only the third time I’ve been able to see Cope compete this season. I was hoping to get to travel with him a bit more, but the new storeopening has been a lot more work behind the scenes than I was anticipating, and then the farm hand we hired to help my aunt ended up breaking his arm, and he was pretty much useless there for a while. It’s been a mess, but his arm’s healed now, and my stores are running smoothly.
Grabbing the drinks, I head back to the stands, not wanting to miss anything. The bareback bronc riders just finished up, meaning Cope’s category is up next. He’s had a phenomenal season so far—I know this because I’ve been studying up on the sport and the rules, so I feel like I semi know what I’m talking about now. At least in comparison to the first time I watched him compete in Vegas back in December.
As soon as my ass hits the uncomfortable metal seats, the announcer booms over the loudspeaker that we’ll be starting the saddle bronc portion, and my insides flutter with excitement. I never thought I’d be the type of guy who enjoyed the rodeo—and I guess I don’t, per se, but Idoenjoy watching Cope. Well, and the other riders from Copper Lake, too, but especially Cope.
A couple of riders go before him, but as soon as I see him lower himself onto the bronc behind the gate, my heart beats harder. Even from all the way over here, I can tell he looks damn good in his outfit. A black leather vest covered in sponsor patches, a teal pearl snap shirt, a faded pair of Wranglers that I know cup his tight, firm ass nicely, covered in a pair of black leather chaps with teal fringe that matches his shirt almost perfectly, and even though I can’t see his feet, I know he’s got on his regular pair of well-worn boots.
A true cowboy.
And fuck, there’s nothing sexier than that.
“Alright, ladies and gentlemen.” The announcer’s loud, boisterous voice echoes around the arena. “Let’s give it up for our next saddle bronc rider of the evening. Here from Copper Lake, Wyoming, last year’s world champ, Copeland Murphy!”
The crowd goes wild as Cope busts out of the bucking chute. Like every time I watch him, everything happens so fast. The bronc jumps and kicks and bucks, and Cope moves with her with such precision, one hand gripping the reins, the other held up above his head. He moves with the writhing beast almost gracefully, which is humorous to say, since looking at them right now, there’s nothing graceful about how she’s jerking him around, but it’s true.
He moves in a way that proves how talented he is. His body is loose, allowing him to movewithher, like he can predict her next step. They look like a well-oiled machine, even though this is probably the first time he’s ever ridden her. It truly is an art as much as it is a dangerous, adrenaline-filled sport. When the buzzer sounds, and he’s pulled off the horse, I know without the announcer even reading off the score that he did an exceptional job.
Cope’s gaze finds mine as if he knew exactly where I was the entire time. A smile splits his face as he points at me before blowing me a kiss. My chest warms, and an obnoxiously wide smile tugs on my lips as I return the gesture. He exits the arena shortly after that, and the next rider comes out, but I don’t pay them any attention because my phone buzzes with a text I know is from Cope without even looking.
Cope: Sterling, Shooter, and I are walking over to the campsite to take showers before the rodeo is over. I’ll come meet you in the stands once we’re done.
I send him a thumbs up, shoving my phone back into my pocket. Shooter’s back this season after taking part of last season off. From what I can tell, he’s doing really well, and the fans seem happy that he’s back.
About twenty minutes later, the three of them are walking over to where we’re sitting, and we watch the rest of the show. Bull riding is the last event always, no idea why, so we stayto watch Colt and Boone compete. They’re both badass and incredibly fucking talented, but every time I watch them ride, I’m thankful Cope rides broncs, and not bulls. Not that bronc riding issafeby any means, but it’s definitely not as wild as riding an angry bull.
Once the rodeo’s over, we all head back to the campsite we’re staying at for the weekend. It’s kind of fun to me how they all travel from location to location, towing their campers. I’m sure by the end of the season, they’re all ready to sleep in their own beds, inside of a real house, but the idea of spending the spring and summer camping with your closest friends like a bunch of nomads is interesting to me. I love it, and I’m excited to get to be a part of it this weekend.
Boone grills us all some hamburgers and hot dogs, and we sit around the burning fire, eating, tossing back beers, and listening to music, while a steady hum of chatter and laughter keeps me smiling. It’s a warm, clear night, the sky splashed with glittering stars, not a cloud in sight. I’ve had several beers at this point in the night, counting the ones I also had at the arena, so I’m feeling quite toasty.
Cope nudges me with his elbow, leaning in, lips hovering over the shell of my ear. “Did you have fun today?”
I nod, turning my head to meet his chocolate brown gaze. “I did, but I’m even happier now that you’re here with me, and not on the back of a bronc.”
Originally, I was going to drive down here since it’s only about a seven-hour drive, but my car’s been acting up again. It was giving me hell about starting earlier this week—it’s time to finally get rid of it and buy something more reliable. I can’t keep putting it off—so, I booked a last-minute flight for this morning. Of course, because I’m me and have the worst fucking luck with flights, it was delayed. Because of that, I wasn’t able to see Cope before the rodeo like I’d planned to.
Thankfully, my flight home isn’t until Sunday morning, so I have all day tomorrow with him before his next rodeo, and then tomorrow night too.
Cope smirks, leaning in to capture my lips with his. My entire body lights up immediately from the contact, and when my lips part and his tongue slips inside, rolling with mine, I don’t even try to stop the groan that reverberates from my chest.
