When we move to walk past the bull riding machine, I hear my name called by Cynthia, a woman we’d already caught up with today.
“Lola! You’ve gotta take a turn on the bull, for old times’ sake!” she tells me, and others join in when they realize I’m here.
A group of surly men wearing black, gray, and red tie-dyed leather jackets, a stack of books embroidered in the bottom right corner of the back panel, turns to face us, smiling widely when they see Ryder.
They’re the owners of the only faces in this town Idon’trecognize.
“You must be the one that got away,” a man with a red beard and blue eyes says to me, sticking his hand out. I reach to shake it tentatively, my head tilting in confusion.
“Sorry, what was that?” I ask.
“Ryder’s told usallabout you, Miss Lola,” the oldest of the men says, and my heart seizes in my chest for a beat before I brush the panicked feeling away.
“Oh, well, I regret to inform you gentlemen that Ryder hasn’t done his part for any of you. I think I’d have remembered if he told me Hidden Valley has its very own biker gang now.” I smile brightly at them, their hearty laughter wrapping around us.
“We’re bikers, but I assure you, we aren’t in a gang. The closest we’ve come to one is our book club,” the redhead says.
“And how do you know Ryder?” I ask.
“When they stopped in town, they dropped by Rosa Ranch looking for work. We didn’t need any more ranch hands at the time, but I got them set up with a few others around town. They invited me to their book club shortly after I finalized my divorce, and I hadn’t been expecting the book of the month to be a second-chance, childhood-best-friends-to-lovers romance,” Ryder explains, staring pointedly at the redheaded man.
My shoulders shake, picturing these burly men poring over romance books. They’re the true epitome of not judging a book by its cover. “Sounds like a great time. Maybe I’ll join you if you’ve got room for another member,” I tell them.
“We’d love to have you, Miss Lola,” the older man says. “I’m Levi, and this is Rhett.” He points to the man with the red beard. “Teddy is the blond over there.” He motions to the group of three standing in line for chicken wings. “Wyatt and Callaway are brothers, the dark-haired guys behind Teddy.”
“I won’t lie and say I’ll remember any of that, but I promise to give it my best shot,” I tell him.
“No worries. Now, how’s about you get up on that bull? Sounds like you were pretty good in your day,” Levi challenges, wiggling his graying brows at me.
Several thoughts war inside me, the loudest being that I shouldn’t do it, but the actual voices of real people shouting for me to give it a go are rapidly becoming louder.
“Yeah, Lola. Wouldn’t wanna miss out now, would ya?” Lemmon’s shrill voice gratesat my nerves.
When had she shown up again?
I take a deep breath, stepping out of Ryder’s grasp and heading up to the mechanical bull operator. I count my blessings that Ryder doesn’t try to stop me, though maybe heshould.
“Hey there, Lola. Good to see ya,” Nate says, opening the gate for me.
“You too, Nate,” I tell him with a warm smile, despite the nerves bubbling in my gut.
I tiptoe along the edge of the slippery rubber mat and hoist myself up.
Everything beyond this moment happens too quickly to decipher exactly where I went wrong.
One moment, my thighs are hugging the sides of the bull, my hands clutching the handle.And then, I’m not.
As the speed picks up, my legs shake, doing most of the work. My hands slip all over as I struggle to stay put. Every joint in my body is on fire, and my heart is bounding.
I fall backward, hitting the mat with a loud thud. My vision starts to dim at the edges, but not before Ryder rushes to my side. I hear him drop to the mat behind me, his hands warm against my cheeks, fingers brushing softly, grounding me. “Darlin’, you’ve gotta stay awake,” he tells me firmly, as if his words alone could make my body’s protection mechanisms halt in their tracks.
Turns outhe’s right.
I blink rapidly, regaining my vision, and soon, I’m being thrown over Ryder’s shoulder, carried down the stairs and out to the parking lot.
“Ooh, better luck next time, Lola. Seems you’re just a tad rusty,” Lemmon taunts.
“Back off,” Ryder roars at her, stealing the breath from my lungs as he continues carrying me toward his truck.
