Page 66 of Roping My Rival

“Hey, Mr. Burke. I think we’re good. Trigger is already set, and I think Warren is, too.”

“Don’t call me Mister.” He scrunches his nose like the word disgusts him. “I told you that before. It’s Hunter.”

“Right. Sorry.”

Warren exits Petey’s stall and joins us. “What the hell are you wearing, Dad?”

Hunter looks down at the front of his body. Pajama bottoms are tucked into his cowboy boots, and his T-shirt is covered with a pattern of wiener dogs.

“It’s my wiener shirt! Get it? Cuz I love hot dogs?”

“It’s hideous.”

“Don’t insult my wieners. Pops bought it for me, so you better not say that in front of him.”

I let father and son rib each other and take a few steps towards the door, but Hunter notices.

“Don’t run out yet, Dane. I heard you two had a fucking amazing run last rodeo, and I want to talk about it.” Hunter turns to me and slaps me on the shoulder. “Do you like carrot cake? Gabe makes the best one. No raisins either.”

“Oh, I, ah…I should get going. I don’t want to impose more than I already have.”

“I invited you. There’s no imposing.” His gaze flicks to Warren and back to me. Nothing gets by this guy. “But if you want to get to your own bed, don’t let me keep you. Warren can fill me in.”

“I’ll see you tomorrow, Warren. Thanks again, Mr…ah, Hunter. I’ll take a rain check on the carrot cake.”

Then I practically run out of the barn to my truck.

The two of them cross the yard, and I think I’m home free. But I make the mistake of looking in my rearview mirror to find Warren standing on the porch and watching me leave.

Henry hasn’t materialized all week.

The longer he doesn’t pop up, the more agitated I become. Warren’s bank account with our joint winnings is a lot higher than it should be, and if I’m not mistaken, he’s been depositing his solo winnings in there, too. Just seeing the account balance makes me nervous.

I could give Henry a bigger sum and keep him off my back. Maybe. I know Warren said it’s okay, but the thought of using his money to pay off something he has no business being involved with doesn’t feel right.

Thank god Darla is paid for a few months still.

Compared to other years, I’m doing fantastic income-wise. With the Burkes letting me board Trigger and keep my only sponsorship money, it’s made a difference. But I really need a winter plan for income. This won’t work for much longer.

But before I browse the job boards, Warren asked for a practice session at the school before we head out for the next rodeo. It’s a two go-round rodeo with a bigger prize pool, and I’m actually looking forward to it. It’s hard not to be excited about the possibility of a large payout.

After parking at the school, I lock my truck and take two steps before freezing in place. Henry leans against the corner of the building, like he’s been waiting for me. His ugly face attempts a smile when my gaze meets his, and he reminds me of a shark. All sharp teeth and too big eyes. Sneaky in the shadows.

“You’ve been hard to pin down this week, Dane. Makes me think you’ve been avoiding me.”

“I was hoping you might have dropped dead, actually.”

He clucks his tongue and steps closer. “You don’t mean that.”

“I kinda do.”

“I just talked to your partner. Nice guy. Would be a shame if something happened to him, don’t you think?”

Cold fear settles in my chest.

“Stay away from him.”

Henry takes two steps over until he’s in my face. His voice drops, and the pleasant mask is long gone. “Make a payment, Dane. If you know what’s good for you, don’t ever fucking tell me what to do. I’m in control here, and I’ve given you more slack than anyone else because I genuinely liked you. Be at the Hickory Barns lot in an hour. Cash.”