Page 59 of One Last Rodeo

Everywhere we go, he makes new friends easily. Whether it's with the announcers, the judges, or just random people in the crowd who come to watch him ride. And they all have their nick names for him.

Cowboy.

Ace.

Grant.

Rider.

Star.

Buddy.

Grandson.

I have none of that. No one to give me a name. No friends.

His expression softens. “Catalina, you’re my friend.”

He says it the way he says most things. Completely unexpectedly and without any ceremony. Friendship with Jensen is something he decided sometime between Austin and Nashville, and now that’s it. We’re friends. I’ve never had someone that just decided that about me before.

My parents decided I was capable to handle the family. My ex decided I was impressive enough to be his fiancée. My colleagues decided I was useful to them as long as I worked for the hospital. And Jensen decided I was his friend.

Something in my chest tightens.

He smiles slowly. “How’sKitty? Cat feels too predictable.”

I burst into a laugh. “Kitty?”

“Do you hate it?”

I think about it, then shake my head. “No. Oddly, I don’t.”

“Another thing only I know about you now that no one else does. You’re soft like a kitty." His voice dips lower. "And you know... a pussy purrs when it’s played with.”

My eyes widen just a fraction. “Jensen…” I whisper.

He leans back into the tub like he's trying to give me space, but his gaze never leaves mine.

“I know,” he says softly.

His fingers skim the surface of the water and then dip just below. I watch his hands disappear and think about the fact that I’m a woman with an advanced degree and a decade of surgical precision with the ability to make life-or-death decisions under pressure. He’s not touching me, but he’s close enough now that if I moved an inch, my thighs would bracket his hips under the water and his fingers that disappeared would fall to my hips.

I already know I’m going to take that inch.

“I liked watching you tonight,” he murmurs, eyes half-lidded. “Even if it was with another man.”

“Why?”

Under the water, my fingers glide forward until they're touching his knees softly. His entire body stills.

"Is this okay?" I ask, checking in.

He sighs and relaxes a little. "Kitty, what did I tell you? You never have to ask to touch me."

I move forward a fraction, then inch up a little, along his thighs—slow and cautious. "Why did you like watching me tonight?"

“Because…” His voice thins to a gravelly whisper. “I like being around you. Being near you. I like seeing you happy. You looked happy tonight. I liked that.”