Page 111 of One Last Rodeo

“Ah, fuck me,” I grunt as the safety crew rushes in, pulling the bull’s attention just in time to keep him from crushing my left leg.

I roll onto my back, staring up at the lights while they clear him out. I take a few beats to look at the sky, to think about how this is it for me.

And instead of crying or feeling sad for myself, I start laughing.

Then I push myself up, dust off, and stand. My shoulder hurts, but at least I know I've got a kickass doctor to help me rehab it since I’m done for good.

The roar of the crowd crashes over me. It's so loud I can’t even hear the announcer calling scores. I don’t care anyway. I never have, but I care even less now. There will be no listening to stats back later tonight. No overthinking my next ride while whitenoise races in my ears. This was the last eight seconds I’ll ever ride.

My eyes sweep the stands, searching for her. She wasn’t in the makeshift office when I warmed up. None of the guys have seen her. I told myself her flight must’ve landed late by now, but I hoped she'd have been here to see me perform.

Finally, I notice her. Hanging off the gate. Big smile. Beaming. The biggest, most beautiful eyes I’ve ever seen looking right at me and nobody else.

My boots are moving before my brain catches up. I don’t hesitate. Don’t slow. I run for her like the rest of the world doesn’t exist, scale the fence, and look down, giving her the choice to come to me first. She takes it. She surges into me, arms tight around my torso, pulling me into the fiercest hug I’ve ever felt. Onesheinitiates. One she doesn’t hold back.

My hand comes up, brushing her cheek, my eyes searching hers. Her lashes are wet. Tears clinging there. I hate seeing her cry, but a small, selfish part of me needed to see that she's been feeling the ache too.

Relief courses through me when I murmur, “Pulse.” Then I drop my mouth to hers in a soft, claiming kiss. “You happy to see me?”

She breathes against my mouth, fingers tangled in my hair. “You have no idea.”

I chuckle, forehead resting against hers. “I think I do.”

She pulls back, eyes bright now. “You brought those flowers for Olivia. You broughtCatalinas.You talked to her before her surgery. That was—” She swallows, and she doesn't have to say it. I can tell they landed the way that I’d hoped they would. To support the little girl, but most of all, to show my support to Catalina.

That's why I flew in early to make a stop in San Jose first.

I nod. “I did. Wanted her to know she was in good hands. I knew she probably didn’t need the reassurance, but I figured it might help her seeing the scar you left on me.” I grin. “Made sure she knew hers would heal even better.”

She bites down on her lip. “Thank you. For everything.”

“Thank you,” I echo, meaning it in a way that goes deeper than words. “How’d it go?”

“Perfectly. I was able to fix it. She’s going to be fine.”

I kiss her lips. “I knew it would be.”

Her gaze softens. “I… I was so upset when I saw you talking to another doctor about your shoulder. Sometimes, I get tunnel vision when I feel like I'm being betrayed, and I don't stop to listen fully and process.”

I kiss her forehead, lingering there. “I know you were hurt. And you were right; I should have never let him take a look. And if I’d known he was your ex, I would’ve knocked him out.”

Her eyes widen a fraction. “You found out?”

“He doesn’t seem like your type.” I don’t bother hiding the edge of jealousy in my voice.

Her fingers tighten around my neck. “He's not. What do you think is my type?”

I answer by kissing her deeply, sliding my tongue inside without caring who’s watching. Not the arena. Not the stands. Not the cameras snapping photos or the people calling my name for an autograph and a piece of me.

Us kissing will be all over the news in a matter of minutes. I feel relief knowing the world will finally know that she’s mine. All I care about is what's right here in my arms.

“I’m your type,” I murmur against her mouth. “And we both know it. You always had a thing for the big cowboy you couldn't stop looking at.”

I lift her easily, my fingers squeezing her ass possessively. She wraps her legs around me tighter until she’s clinging to me.

June steps into our path with her camera pointed. “Smile!”

We do. Cheek to cheek. Her tucked into my arms. My hand very much fisting her ass through those tight burgundy pants I plan on stripping off her in a matter of seconds.