He was on his feet and charging toward Banks before I could take my next breath.
But Darby was on his game.
With one second to spare, he caught Taco’s attention and diverted it just long enough for Banks to get dragged up and out of the way by another bullfighter.
And, like the crazy loon that Darby was, he hauled back and slapped the bull on the ass for a second time.
This time, Banks was scrambling over the wall on his own.
I breathed a sigh of relief the moment that Banks was out of harm’s way.
I didn’t start breathing fully until Darby was out of Taco’s reach, too.
“Thank fuck,” I breathed out, feeling lightheaded all of a sudden.
Jett laughed weakly.
“I’m not cut out for this rodeo business.” Jett wiped away tears. “Shit.”
I silently agreed.
Being a rodeo man’s woman was tough work for sure.
Whether it be bullfighter, bull rider, or even a barrel racer.
It was a dangerous profession.
And the women behind the scenes deserved some gold medals of their own for staying by their sides.
I was so engrossed in talking to Jett, talking to her about bull riding and fighting in general, that I didn’t notice the man climbing the metal fence until Banks was hopping over the railing in front of me.
I blinked, turned my head, then grinned at my man.
“You sure like to put on a show,” I said teasingly.
He shrugged, then plopped down onto the seat below me.
He looked exhausted.
And expectant.
“Well?” he growled, gesturing to the box.
I tossed it at him.
“I’m not opening it,” I told him. “It’s a no until you ask me correctly.”
He huffed a sigh.
“You’re killing me, Smalls.” He laughed.
I raised a brow, telling him without words that I was waiting.
Not so patiently, might I add.
He groaned.
“Fine,” he said, then went down on his knee in front of me.
My breathing hitched at seeing him there in front of me, down on one knee, giving me everything I ever dreamed of.
He popped the top open.
I started to laugh.
Because inside the box was a fucking ring pop.
“You didn’t think that I’d actually give you the real ring, did you, Candy?” he teased. “In all honesty, I expected you to drop it.”
I swiped at his head and ended up knocking his hat off.
“Hey!” he laughed.
I rolled my eyes and reached for the ring, ripped off the plastic wrapper, and slipped it onto my finger.
“Well?” I said, waiting for the words.
He leaned forward and took a swipe of my ring pop with his tongue, then stood up with a smile.
Reaching into his very tight pants, he extracted another ring box, this one in a darker shade of gray.
Opening it up, he once again went down onto one knee.
“Candy Ray Sunshine,” he said softly. “Will you do me the honor of becoming my wife?”
I sucked on my ring pop and made him squirm for a few long seconds before smiling wide.
Then throwing myself at him.
“Of course, I will,” I said. “You’re mine, silly.”
He caught me and twisted us until I was in his lap and he was sitting on the bleachers below where I’d just been sitting.
Then, while keeping his eyes on my hand, he removed my ring pop, put it on my other hand, then slipped the most gorgeous pink diamond onto my hand that I’d ever seen.
“I thought about going the traditional route,” he said, sounding thoughtful. “But I thought, my Candy isn’t a regular diamond. She’s a sparkly pink one.”
I studied the ring for a few long seconds, then threw my arms around Banks’ shoulders again and burst out laughing.
“Yes, I’m your fucking pink diamond,” I told him.
He leaned his head back and looked deep into my eyes.
Then he said, “I think you just got your ring pop in my hair.”
I rolled my eyes.
“How do you feel about a wedding? A big one. On the day that your contractual obligations to not get married expire?” I wondered.
His eyes met mine.
“I’d rather drop my sponsors and marry you,” he said. “Tomorrow, if possible. But, I’d be willing to wait if that was what you wanted.”
Was it?
I didn’t know.
But I did know that we’d be playing nice with his sponsors. He needed them. How did I know this?
My conversation with my father and the foreman that was on site with the Valentine project.
“Oh!” I said as I looked at my man curiously. “Do you know anything about an addition to the Valentine project?”
His grin went wide. “Sure do.”
“And do you know about how much all of that is going to cost?” I asked.
His lips tipped up at the corner. “Somewhat.”
“Then you know just as well as I do that we can’t afford to piss off any sponsors. Thank God that the coffee shop is doing so well,” I teased. “So next year. Big wedding. Plan made.”
He sighed. “I had a feeling you were going to make me wait. That’s what I’m always doing when it comes to you. Hurry up and wait.”
I leaned forward and ran my nose along his.
“You’re worth the wait, though,” he told me seconds later. “Always have been, always will be.”
Epilogue
That look men adopt when their wife is about to check a bitch.
-Banks showing Candy his ‘oh fuck’ face.
Banks
My heart was pounding in my chest as I finally made my way to the gate, looking over my shoulder once or twice as I did.
The bull was corralled by my brother.
Which was a good thing, because goddamn was he a surly one.
“Almost lost you there, bro,” Ace said as he held a hand out to me.
Today was my last ride.
Today was the day that I hung my cowboy boots up and said a forever goodbye to the rodeo circuit.
Why was today my last day?
“Thanks,” I said as I took Ace’s hand and hauled myself up and out of the pen with the insanely pissed off bull that I’d just ridden for my last eight-second ride ever. “Taco nearly killed me.”
“Tacos nearly killed me, too,” Callum said as he rubbed his stomach. “I was okay until I nearly watched that bull gore you through the throat.”
He eyed the angry red mark on my throat. The spot where the bull that I’d just been riding, Taco Tuesday, had just grazed my neck.
But graze or not, he’d almost killed me.
On my final ride.
I was afraid to look up.
I looked down instead, seeing my stretchy wedding ring, and couldn’t help myself then.
I had to look up.
That’s when I found her beautiful, crying face taking up the jumbotron.
Our son, Lyle’s, head curled up underneath her chin as she slowly dripped tears onto his face.
My eyes left the jumbotron to find her in the stands, and there she was, standing so motionless. Hardly breathing. Beautiful and heartbreaking, staring at me like she’d seen her life flash before her eyes. And she had.
“I’m sorry,” I mouthed.
She touched her throat, where I’d almost been gored, and let her hand drop.
I swallowed hard and nodded my head, giving her a thumbs up.
She took a deep, calming breath.
Then smiled.
The stadium erupted in cheers.
The baby in her arms didn’t even flinch.
That was because we’d bought him some baby headphones to go over his sensitive little ears, just for our contingenc
y plan.
See, Lyle was three weeks early.
Lyle, though he hadn’t been planned, had actually been conceived at the perfect time.
If he’d followed his actual delivery date rules—and the rules of first children—he’d have been either on time or late.
Except, nobody told Lyle Valentine that.
He’d seen a prime opportunity and had taken it.
In between the second to last rodeo, on a Monday night when we’d gotten back to the Valentine ranch, and a Tuesday morning, Lyle Valentine had come screaming into the world.
The funny thing was, though Candy had been having small contractions here and there that the doctor had said were ‘Braxton Hicks’ and hadn’t been worried about, Lyle hadn’t made his impending presence known.
All of a sudden, Candy had gone from not dilated at all to her water breaking, and Lyle arriving within three hours.
Of course, Candy and I had been in the middle of the Valentine ranch thinking that everything would be okay. That we had time.
Well, we didn’t.
And I’d nearly delivered Lyle at home, on the floor, in the middle of my three brothers.
Thank God for the paramedics that had arrived in time to catch my son.
Because as much as I loved Lyle and my wife, I did not want that on my shoulders.
And, after birthing Lyle, we’d gone to the hospital for all of only eight hours before they’d sent us home.
After visiting with his pediatrician the next day, he’d given us the go-ahead to take him to the rodeo as long as he wasn’t around anybody.
Which was why Lyle and Candy were surrounded by only my brothers’ wives and my brothers in their own special little area.
“You better go give her that hug,” Ace said. “I think she lost about half her body weight in tears.”
I watched as Darby, still sweaty and dirty from helping pull a rampaging bull away from my carotid, threw his arm around Candy’s shoulder, dropped a kiss on her head, and then took the baby from her arms.
Lyle didn’t so much as twitch in his sleep as Darby expertly cradled my kid to his chest like he was meant to be the best uncle ever.
“Uh-oh.” Callum laughed as he once again rubbed his stomach. “You’re never getting that kid back now.”
I grunted out a laugh.
It was surprising, really.
Seeing Darby do so well with our kids.
But I had a feeling we had the woman on his other side to thank for that.
“I’m going,” I said as I made my way to the fence.
“Actually.” Someone stopped me. “If you don’t mind, since you’re already down here, we’ll go ahead and award you.”
I grinned.
I hadn’t won in three years. So, for me to win this season, my final season, was a blessing.
And honestly made me feel on top of the world, going out with the big prize.
I looked at my wife, who was staring at me expectantly.
Holding up one finger, I gestured to the commissioner beside me.
She understood, her smile going wide.
Then leaned into Darby, betraying her worry.
Five minutes later, I was standing in the middle of the rodeo arena, bright lights blinding me, and accepting the biggest belt buckle I’d ever been given to date.
“Tell us how you feel,” Jett, the media sponsor for the rodeo, ordered.
She had a grin on her face.
And I loved it.
She’d been not only my proposal photographer, but Candy’s and my wedding videographer/photographer as well. Our birth photographer now, too.
She’d turned into a great friend who seemed to be documenting all of the huge life events between Candy and me.
So, it seemed fitting that she’d be there as I went out a winner, too.
“I feel like I’m Superman,” I said as my eyes once again went to my wife. “But I don’t think that has anything to do with bull riding today. It has everything to do with my kid being born. My wife watching me ride. My brothers and their wives being in the stands. My friends being here to watch me on my final ride. My fans. Oh, and Taco Tuesday having shitty aim.”
I practically heard Candy’s angry growl from half a stadium away.
I grinned wickedly at her.
She flipped me off, and not even discreetly.
“So that’s what you’re smiling so widely about?” she asked. “Not this shiny belt buckle?”
She tapped it where it was held in my hand, and I couldn’t help but shake my head with a small laugh.
“The shiny belt buckle is nice and all,” I said solemnly. “But having a hot wife and a cute as hell kid tops that. Sorry not sorry.”
Jett laughed as I offered her a wink, then jumped off the podium.
After receiving hundreds of congratulations from sponsors, fellow bull riders, bullfighters and more, I finally arrived at my wife.
The first thing she did when I got close was drag her fingers along my throat.
I swallowed hard at the look in her eyes.
“Never again,” she ordered me.
I was already shaking my head.
“Never again,” I promised. “I gotta be here for you and Lyle now. Bull riding lost its excitement when you stepped into my life.”
She threw her arms around me, squeezed me tight, then said, “I’m going to fucking kill you when we get home.”
I squeezed her back just as tight, if not tighter.
“And I’m probably going to let you.”
Lyle, whom my dirty brother still held, started to whine.
And, like the sucker I was, I let my beautiful wife go to grab him from Darby’s arms.
I grinned at his outfit.
He had the cutest baby Wranglers on his tiny little tush that I’d ever seen, and a black onesie that said, “This is actually my first rodeo.”
Bringing him up to my face, I pressed a kiss on his bald little head.
Then turned back to my wife.
“Ready to go home, Mrs. Valentine?” I asked.
She nodded her head once.
“Home, Mr. Valentine.”
What’s Next?
Ask Me If I Care
Book 4 of SWAT Generation 2.0
4-14-20
Prologue
I have seen things. Awful things. Empty coffee cup things.
-Coffee Cup
Ares
Six months ago
“Are you sure you want to go out looking like that?”
My dad’s words had me stopping short.
I looked down at myself, then up at him.
“What’s wrong?” I asked, worried now.
“There’s nothing wrong.” My mother slapped my father across the chest. “Downy, be nice to her. You know how sensitive she is.”
My father rubbed at his chest as if my mother’s slap had actually harmed him instead of just startled him.
“This is a police function,” my father started. “There’s going to be quite a few people there. People that I work with on a daily basis. I don’t want them all looking at my daughter half clothed.”
I rolled my eyes then.
“Dad, I’m dressed. I’m going with you. Oh, and you’re welcome.” I poked him in the chest with one manicured finger. “I even got my nails done for you!”
My dad grimaced and looked at his watch.
“There’s still time for you to get dressed, Memphis,” Dad said to my mom.
My mother, who was on the couch in sweatpants, shook her head.
“If I go, I might very well throw up all over everyone.” She paused. “Unless that’s what you’re trying to accomplish?”
My father grimaced.
This morning, my mother had called me to ask me if I’d be willing to go to a police banquet with my father. One that she usually attended with him every year.
Only, she couldn’t attend
thanks to what she assumed was the flu taking her down.
Honestly, I should’ve just said no.
I’d had a long ass day at work as a guidance counselor at Kilgore High School. I’d had to break up a fight that had left me sore as hell and stiff in places people shouldn’t be stiff. Oh, and to put the cherry on top, my ex-boyfriend had called and asked if we could meet up for dinner.
Thankfully, my mother had already called at that point and asked if I’d be willing to go with my dad, otherwise I would’ve had to tell Ryan yes. Because sadly, I could never lie well when it came to Ryan McMillan. The pitcher for the Devil Rays, and the man that broke my heart the moment he got drafted.
I honestly wasn’t sure why I said yes every time he came into town.
I really should be saying no.
I should be strong and ignore the call. Block him. Anything but tell him yes, I was free.
But Ryan was my high school sweetheart. The first man I loved. The man that took my virginity. The man that I still found quite attractive even after all of his escapades.
“Are you even listening to me?”
I looked up to see my father staring down at me.
“No.” I didn’t see the point in lying. “What?”
“I asked if you were ready to go,” Dad repeated.
I nodded my head and held up one finger. “Let me go pee really quick. That way mom can make sure I still look good when I’m done.”
Dad frowned and made a ‘hurry up’ gesture with his finger, causing me to grin and take off at a sprint down the hallway.
Once done, I looked at myself in the mirror, checking out my makeup.
I’d gotten it done professionally. My hairdresser had a woman at her salon that did makeup, and since she was free, I all but begged her to do it.
Usually, I was one of those people that tried to go makeup free.
I honestly couldn’t stand the way the gunk felt on my face.
The most adventurous that I got was putting eye shadow and mascara on when I went to work. And, upon occasion, I covered a pimple with foundation.
So looking at myself with smoky eyes and painted lips made me feel like I was looking at a stranger in the mirror.
My light blue eyes seemed to almost pop thanks to the black eyeliner she’d used to rim my eyes. My lips looked plumper as well, reminding me of the ten minutes that it’d taken the makeup chick to make them perfect.
Chute Yeah Page 17
