Page 203 of Wild Embers
“Let him rip,” I shout.
The clink of metal meets my ears as the bull bellows angrily. That’s my cue to remain as still as possible.
“Shit,” Levi curses before the bull makes it into the round pen. “Blake, run with me.”
“I’m comfortable right where I am.”
“Dammit!” Levi shouts and takes off for the fence.
The bull enters the pen and lets out a ferocious roar.
“Oh, fuck no.” Santiago is the next to leave.
The bull charges the perimeter of the fence, forcing the ranch hands to back away.
I wink in Walker’s direction. “It’s you and me.”
Walker looks like he’s holding his breath.
The bull’s stomps get closer.
Walker’s eyes move between me and the bull and back.
My pulse roars louder than the bull.
Walker gives me one last look, pleading.
“No,” I mouth.
Walker jumps to his feet and runs faster than I thought possible. The bull charges for Walker, and my heart pounds in my chest.
The bull runs right through the table, sending it flying over my head.
I hold myself perfectly still.
Walker gets himself over the fence just as the bull comes up behind him, barely missing Walker and hitting the fence instead.
The wranglers cheer boisterously as the bull runs the fence again. I hear a creak of metal, hooves pounding against the compact dirt, then a click.
Daring to turn, I find that the bull exited through the gate, and Javier closed it behind him.
I can’t believe I just did that.
The elation of victory has me rising to my feet, throwing my fists in the air, and joining the others in cheering.
“The queen reigns supreme!” Javier shouts.
I stand on my chair, face my guys, and take a bow. I’m not sure if they want to strangle me or kiss me.
The line between love and hate is thin, right?
Hopping down, I join them on the other side of the fence. Javier ropes the wranglers into helping him get the bull put away.
“Since I’m the clear winner,” I start, “I choose me and my trusty B-O-B.” I don’t wait for their reply and march toward the house.
Levi hollers after me. “B-O-B?”
I stop for a moment and wink at them over my shoulder. “Battery-operated boyfriend.”
