The Cowboy Next Door. Marin Thomas

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СКАЧАТЬ Ride-off was packed to the gills. Despite the hundred-plus temperature, Shannon smiled for the cameras and signed autographs for young girls who dreamed of becoming lady bull riders. For the past three hours she’d manned the Dynasty Boots booth, waiting for C.J. to take her place. She guessed he’d snuck off—most likely to a horse stall in the livestock barn—with another ditzy buckle bunny. At least he wasn’t flirting with women out in the open.

      Her sweat-soaked clothes chafed her but the only thing she cared about was winning and evening up the score with C.J., who remained one win ahead. After today’s ride, they had a break from competition for two weeks before they traveled to Winslow to compete.

      Shannon planned to use the time off to help her father with ranch chores, but that had been before she’d had sex with Johnny. Seeing the cowboy every day and not being able to do anything about her attraction to him would be tougher than riding a rank bull.

      “My name’s Jenny. Can I have your autograph?” A freckle-faced girl held out a rodeo program.

      “You wanna be a cowgirl when you grow up?” Shannon scribbled her name across the cover.

      “No, I wanna be like her.”

      Shannon glanced in the direction the girl pointed and saw C.J. talking to the Yuma Rodeo Days Ride-off queen. The rodeo queen wore fancy boots and a red Western shirt with more rhinestones than stars in the galaxy.

      A tug on the program in her hand startled her. “Sorry. Have fun today, Jenny.” No sooner had the girl moseyed along than Shannon caught sight of Johnny Cash. She sucked in a quiet breath. Dressed from head to toe in black, he represented his namesake and drew the stares of several women as he walked toward her, his hips rolling from side to side in a confident swagger.

      “Hello, Johnny.” She resisted pressing her hand against her thudding heart.

      His black Stetson dipped. “How’ve you been?”

      That was a loaded question. “Great. I hear you’re working for my father.”

      His gaze locked on the table of programs next to her. “Guess I forgot to mention that.”

      “Are you settled in at the ranch?”

      “Yep.” He looked her in the eye. “Your father said to be careful.”

      “Let me guess. He was too busy with the ranch to come today.”

      Johnny nodded. “He’s worried you’ll injure yourself.”

      She didn’t want to discuss her father. “Are you competing?”

      “Heck, no.” This time his smile was genuine. “I don’t want to screw up my gig at the Triple D.”

      “Be careful what you wish for,” she said. “My father can be a demanding man. That’s why my brothers traded in their saddles for a library full of law books.”

      “You ready for today?” he asked.

      “Of course.” She was always ready—riding bulls was a part of who she was. She checked the time on her cell phone. “I better get going.” It was crazy, but instead of making her feel ill at ease, Johnny’s presence quieted her jumpy nerves. “Walk with me?”

      “Sure.”

      They strolled through the crowd in silence, Johnny’s shoulder bumping hers once—the contact triggering an electric charge, which traveled down her arm and through her fingertips. When they reached the cowboy ready area, he pulled her aside. “What’s the matter?”

      “What do you mean?”

      “You kept looking over your shoulder the whole way here.”

      “I’m fine.” Shannon saw C.J. and stiffened.

      “Did you two...get back together?” Johnny’s blue gaze intensified. Did her answer matter to him?

      “No, we’re through.”

      “Does Dynasty Boots know about the breakup?” he asked.

      “No, and we’re not planning to tell them.” She wished she knew if it bothered him that she and C.J. were pretending to be a couple.

      “What bull did you draw?” he asked.

      “Heat Miser.”

      “Heat Miser’s a twenty-three-point bull.” Left unsaid was the animal’s reputation for turning on fallen riders.

      Shannon was the first to admit the bull made her nervous, but a draw was a draw and her sponsor paid her to play the game with the big boys. C.J. had drawn Mr. Gigolo, a twenty-one-point bull known for running toward the exit after throwing his rider.

      Shannon unzipped her bag and put on her gear.

      “Ladies and gentlemen, we’re ready to kick off our bull riding event.” The announcer’s voice boomed over the sound system.

      “Don’t look now but Rodriguez is heading this way,” Johnny said.

      When C.J. noticed Johnny, he glared. “What are you doing here, Cash?”

      “Making sure you mind your manners.”

      A cowboy standing nearby snickered and C.J. snapped at Shannon, “You’re going down, Douglas.”

      “Is that any way to talk to your girlfriend?” Johnny asked.

      C.J. flashed a smug grin.

      “Don’t let Rodriguez get to you.” Johnny grasped Shannon’s shoulders. “You’ve got to keep your head on straight with this bull.”

      “You’re right.”

      “Ready?”

      Whether she was or not didn’t matter. It was showtime.

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