Kyle

by Jennifer Ashley

  “That’s right,” Tyler Campbell said. “We’re here to see Kyle eat his words. It’ll be fun.”

  Ray, who was supposed to stand up for Kyle in the Campbell-Malory rivalry that went back decades, chuckled. “Always is.”

  Kyle tried to send an apologetic look to Anna, but she didn’t receive it. Anna bathed Kyle in a cool stare and turned away.

  The ladies of the bunch—Bailey, Christina, Jess, Callie, and Grace—surrounded Anna and led her away. They were on her side, of course.

  That left the Malory brothers facing the Campbells, like in the old days. Five against two. The Campbells, for some reason, had never thought that unfair.

  Both Campbells and Malorys had grown from belligerent teens to working men, and they were all more or less friends now. But Kyle had once dated Bailey, and Ray had gone out with Christina before Christina and Grant had gotten back together. Made for some complicated friendships.

  Ray ended the standoff, the Campbells grinning like hyenas, by clapping Ross on the shoulder.

  “Hey, newlywed. Let me buy you boys a round of beer.” He waved his hand at the Campbell brothers, and they surged toward the bar.

  Adam, the lucky bastard who’d married Bailey, gave Kyle a cordial nod, but his blue eyes held a deep gleam of satisfaction. He’d snared the lovely Bailey, and Kyle hadn’t.

  Kyle no longer minded—let Adam be happy. As soon as Adam had returned to Riverbend, Kyle had seen the writing on that wall. Bailey hadn’t been able to keep her eyes off Adam, and Adam had boiled with jealousy every time Kyle came near her.

  He’d realized the two were madly in love, and he’d backed off. Not easily, but he’d conceded the field. Now Adam and Bailey had a happy marriage and an adorable kid.

  Kyle sent Adam a returning grin. He had no more interest in Bailey.

  The lovely young woman with blond hair, very blue eyes, and strength of will who’d come here tonight to prove herself was another matter. Kyle found himself trying to keep Anna in sight as she moved through the bar, but the Campbell wives cut her from his view.

  “Haven’t seen you around much, Ray,” Tyler way saying as they bellied up to the bar. “I know why I haven’t seen Kyle.” He sent a sympathetic look to Kyle’s cane. “Healing is a bitch. But where have you been keeping yourself?”

  To Kyle’s surprise, Ray flushed and flicked his eyes sideways. “Here and there. Lot’s to do.”

  Kyle frowned at the evasive answer. The ranch, while always busy, hadn’t been unusually so. Even before Kyle’s injury, Ray had decided not to do the entire rodeo circuit this year, choosing venues close to home and riding for fun. Which meant he had a lot of free time these days.

  So where had Ray been disappearing to? A woman, was Kyle’s first guess, but Ray never hid his girlfriends, and he definitely didn’t sneak around with another guy’s lady. Grant and Christina had been broken up for almost a year before Ray had asked Christina out.

  Kyle clocked his brother’s half-embarrassed reaction plus his relief when Tyler dropped the subject. He tucked away the information and resolved to find out later what was going on.

  Meanwhile …

  “You really challenged Dr. Anna to ride the mechanical bull?” Tyler asked. “Are you crazy? She’ll stay on it for an hour and then make it follow her around. You know how good she is with animals.”

  “It’s a machine,” Kyle said while Tyler broke into laughter. “I’m trying to prove a point, is all.”

  Tyler’s eyes twinkled. “What, that Dr. Anna is smarter than you and always will be?”

  Ray laughed loudly, happy the topic was off him. “Kyle never learns.”

  “You two are assholes.” Kyle accepted a beer from the bartender—who also was laughing—and drank deeply. “I didn’t coerce her. We have a bet.”

  Tyler nodded. “Yeah, that when you lose, you’ll do all kinds of shit jobs for her. Literally involving shit. Poor Kyle. You are so in for it, dude.”

  Even during the height of the Campbell-Malory feud, Kyle had gotten along best with Tyler. He was more easygoing and party-loving than the wall of Adam, Grant, and Carter.

  But Kyle suddenly wished the feud would reignite so he could punch Tyler on the nose. Tyler’s too good-looking face was creased with a wide smile, delight that Kyle would make himself a laughingstock.

  “I’m done with you losers.” Kyle backed away with his beer, looking for somewhere safer to drink.

  His brother and Tyler boomed laughs as he went. So glad he could provide them good entertainment.

  Kyle wove through the crowd, making for the back room. The line to ride the bull was already long. A tourist was on it now, a guy with what Kyle called “office pallor,” probably from some snowy city up north.

  The guy wasn’t doing too bad, his friends yelling and cheering for him. He had his head down, concentrating, which was the only way to do it. One second at a time, learning the feel, going with the animal.

  The best bulls twisted like demons, doing anything to get the man-flea off their backs. Mechanical bulls would never be the same. While they could rotate and buck randomly, they didn’t have the feel of two thousand pounds of angry flesh and blood under your butt.

  Bulls quivered with life and energy—all that fury against you—and Kyle knew he’d always lose. The test was how long Kyle could endure against an animal who didn’t give a shit about him and not only wanted him gone but would do his damnedest to make him regret ever thinking he could best a bull.

  Kyle had no illusions that what he rode wasn’t forty times stronger and faster than he was. Any idea that bulls were stupid was totally wrong too. They were smarter and more cunning than a lot of people Kyle knew.

  The thrill of bull riding was stealing those few seconds, riding danger, showing how good he could be. At the end of every rodeo, Kyle went around to the bull pens and said hello, paying his respects. The bulls gave him sneering looks in return, knowing they were the superior species.

  The guy on the mechanical bull finally finished. The bull wound down and his friends helped him off, laughing and joking. A woman—girlfriend or wife—hugged him on the way out.

  The Campbell women led Anna forward, her turn next. Kyle found a place to set down his beer and hobbled toward them, wincing when people bumped his still-healing body.

  “You can do this, Anna,” Callie said as they surged around the waiting bull, its plastic face in no way menacing.

  “Just hang on and tell it what to do,” Jess said with a grin.

  “Yeah, teach my brother not to mess with you,” Grace added.

  Kyle scowled at her. “Oh, come on. I thought at least my sweet baby sister would take my side.”

  “Not when your side is wrong.” Grace’s eyes sparkled in lively anticipation. “Make me proud, Anna.”

  Kyle shook his head. “Marrying Carter has made you a hard woman.”

  “She’s not hard at all,” Carter Sullivan said, more or less in Kyle’s ear. “I like her just the way she is.”

  Kyle turned to find Carter right behind him, not crowding him exactly, but not backing off either. Carter was crazy protective of Grace, which was fine with Kyle most of the time, but he could be a little obsessive.

  “I was joking,” Kyle said, speaking slowly and carefully. “Me and Grace, we do that.”

  Carter gave him a nod that said, Okay, but I’m watching.

  Bailey was speaking softly and rapidly to Anna, who’d gone almost as pale as the tourist guy from up north.

  She looked scared. Anna Lawler never looked scared, no matter what kind of beast she had to face. She’d go toe-to-toe with some of the most hard-bitten ranch hands he’d ever met, and take no shit from the biggest animals in the county.

  But as she assessed the mechanical bull her face pinched and she looked as though she was about to be sick.

  “Anna.” Kyle stepped forward. His stick struck the edge of the landing pads around the bull, and he stumbled. Hands grabbed him to keep him from falling—
the soft hands of Callie and Jess, the harder ones of Carter.

  Kyle regained his balance and broke away from them. “Anna, you don’t have to ride if you don’t want to,” he said quickly. “It’s just a stupid bet.”

  Color returned to Anna’s cheeks as she faced him. “No, I’m doing this. I don’t go back on my word.”

  “Yeah, but maybe I don’t want to see you get hurt.”

  Anna’s eyes flashed, the sparkle of determination returning. “You get hurt all the time.” She glanced pointedly at his walking stick. “At least there are pads for me to land on. And I’m not forfeiting by walking away.”

  The glare she sent him shouted anger, pride, stubbornness. She had tenacity—Kyle gave her that.

  He firmed his mouth. “All right. Climb up there and fall off. Be my guest.”

  “I think that’s what started this argument in the first place. Bailey, help me on.”

  Bailey shot Kyle a grin. He and Bailey had become friends again after Bailey had dumped Kyle like an unwanted sock to latch on to Adam, but right now Bailey was on Anna’s side. They all were, he realized. They loved her.

  Be nice if someone loved him.

  Kyle stepped up on the mat successfully and reached Anna’s side as Bailey poised to give Anna a boost.

  “If you feel yourself go,” Kyle said, “I mean seriously start to fall, go with it. Don’t fling your hands out to stop yourself—that’s how you break wrists and dislocate shoulders. Tuck those arms around you and roll as you hit. Spreads out the impact.”

  Anna’s eyes rounded. “These pads are six inches thick.”

  “Doesn’t matter. You fall wrong, you still break something. Trust me. I’ve fallen all kinds of wrong and broken a lot of bones.”

  “No kidding.” Another glance at his creaking torso. “And yet, you still do it.”

  Kyle forced a shrug. “It’s the challenge. Plus a nice amount of money I can put into the ranch.”

  “It’s still crazy.” Anna squared her shoulders. “Get me onto this thing, Bailey.”

  The mechanical bull was nowhere near as big as a real one, but Anna gladly accepted Bailey’s leg up. She patted the molded bull’s neck as she settled on its back. “Don’t worry, boy. I’m not here to hurt you.”

  As laughter rippled through the gathered crowd, Kyle positioned himself next to Anna’s knee, a nice curve in her form-hugging jeans.

  “Get a firm hold, but not too tight,” he advised. “The strap is for balance, not for taking your entire weight. Squeeze with your knees and lower legs, like riding a horse. Keep the other hand well out of the way—you can’t touch the bull with it or you forfeit.”

  Bailey poked him in the arm. “Stop fussing at her. Anna knows what she’s doing.”

  “This isn’t the same.” Kyle gave the plastic beast a warning glare. “Not at all the same.”

  “Go away, Kyle,” Anna stated. “Let me make a fool of myself on my own.”

  Kyle wanted to reach up and pull her off into his arms, carry her away from the throng eager to see Anna put Kyle in his place. He kept imagining Anna falling, landing on her slim shoulder or hip, spending the next six weeks in a body cast, or falling completely wrong and breaking her neck. All because Kyle couldn’t keep his mouth shut.

  Bailey tugged at him. “Come on. We have to move.”

  Kyle gave Anna a last look and reluctantly followed Bailey out of the safety zone to the barroom floor.

  Anna wrapped one hand around the strap and gave the manager who operated the bull a thumbs-up. Kyle held his breath as the bull started to move.

  Dino’s manager had a lot of experience with his mechanical bull. He knew how to start it slowly, how to keep it gentle for absolute beginners. No one had ever gotten hurt riding here, but there was always a first time.

  The bull moved tentatively at first, easy bucks, mild spins. Anna hung on without much trouble, then she gave the man another thumbs-up.

  “Let it rip!” she shouted.

  The man grinned. “All right. Here we go!”

  “What’s he doing?” Kyle demanded of Bailey as the bull sped up.

  “Anna told him she wanted a real ride. That’s what your bet is, isn’t it? That she can’t stay ten seconds on a rampaging bull?”

  “Yeah, but …”

  “I think she’ll be okay, Kyle. Anna isn’t stupid.”

  “No, she’s a frigging genius, but she’s also pissed off at me.”

  Bailey glanced at him with the deep brown eyes Adam had fallen madly in love with. “Really? I can’t imagine why.”

  “Stop her,” Kyle growled. He glared at the manager and made a slicing motion across his throat. “Kill it.”

  Too late. Anna yelped as the bull bucked like the wildest ride Kyle had straddled out of a chute. The braid she’d coiled around her head came loose and flopped on her back like a golden rope.

  Her head jerked, as did her arm. The fake bull spun and twisted, bucked and rocked. Anna held on grimly, eyes wide, yells escaping her mouth.

  Three seconds, Kyle counted, breath held. Four, five … Come on, you can do it. Five more and we can stop this.

  On second number seven, Anna slipped. Kyle involuntarily moved forward as though he could hold her on.

  Anna came loose from the bull and gave a piercing shriek as she flew through the air. She landed in a loose tangle of limbs, her unbound hair spilling over her like a silken cloud.

  The manager quickly stopped the bull, and it swayed to a halt, chest down, the wild animal now comically paralyzed and so obviously fake.

  Kyle was next to Anna before he remembered moving. He left his walking stick who-knew-where, and his healing ribs creaked as he went down on one knee beside her.

  Anna rolled over, flipping her hair out of her way. “Damn!” she said in a loud voice. “I lost.”

  “No, you didn’t.” Kyle clenched his fists to keep from touching her. “You were on there a while before it sped up. It all counts.”

  Anna sat up, looking none the worse for wear. “The time didn’t start until it really bucked. I’m not going to wimp out of a bet, Kyle Malory, in front of the entire county. You make a reservation, and I’ll go buy a decent dress.”

  She allowed herself to take Kyle’s hand so he could help her to her feet as the bar cheered her like she was a superhero. But the flinty gaze Anna sent Kyle told him she faced a date with him with the same enthusiasm she would a root canal without pain killer.

  Anna checked her dress and hair, makeup, shoes, and jewelry for the twentieth time as she waited a few nights later for Kyle to pick her up.

  She stood in the bedroom of the compact house she’d bought from Bailey Campbell upon returning to Riverbend from San Angelo. Anna liked the cheerful rooms set one behind the other, the small patch of garden, and the neighbor, Mrs. Kaye, always ready with leftover soup and gossip when Anna came home from a long, tough day.

  “Are the earrings too much?” Anna asked the cat who lay in the exact center of her bed. He was a short-haired tuxedo kitty Anna had rescued in San Angelo, a scrawny, starving kitten full of worms and fleas. Patches had become Anna’s devoted friend, which meant he was happy to blink lazily at her from the bed as she fretted.

  “Too much,” Anna decided.

  She pulled out the dangling gold hoops, threw them to the dresser, and stuck in tiny gold studs. There. Not too ostentatious, but the hint of gold looked nice with her hair up.

  Wait, should she keep her hair up? Was it too severe? Or should she brush it out in a natural fall? Anna usually wore her hair in a braid pinned up to keep it out of the way as she worked. She ought to just hack her hair off entirely for convenience, but she touched it now, knowing she was too fond of it for that.

  She sighed. “Hair stays up. What about the dress? Is it too short? I could just wear nice pants and a top.”

  Patches yawned, lowered his head, and closed his eyes.

  The dress was dark blue and hugged her curves, what there was of them. Anna�
�s physical work and little time for meals left her lean and tough, but her breasts were lean too. She eyed them in the high-necklined dress—no showing off what she didn’t have.

  It wasn’t like she was trying to impress Kyle Malory with her figure, she told herself. He had big-bosomed women flinging themselves at him right, and left, and center, some so busty they barely fit into their tight “I Love You Kyle” T-shirts. He’d barely notice Anna in her slim but modest dress, but she wasn’t about to wave her tits at him.

  The sleeveless sheath came with a little jacket that hid her tanned arms, her skin scarred from years of working with animals. Few animals bit or scratched her deliberately, but there were always mishaps.

  She observed her shrimpy body with a sigh. The dress looked a little bit sexy—but again, why did she care whether Kyle found her sexy?

  Resolutely she shrugged on the jacket. Great, now she looked like she was on her way to church.

  Anna was about to slide the jacket off again, when headlights flashed through the living room window and a purring motor paused in front of the house. Anna jumped, slammed the jacket closed, and grabbed her bag-like purse.

  “See you, Patches.”

  The cat opened one eye then closed it again, settling in for a nap, as Anna charged out onto the porch.

  Chapter Five

  Kyle parked the Lexus he’d rented for the evening in front of Anna’s house and climbed stiffly from it.

  Finally cleared by his doctor to drive, Kyle had called Karen Marvin—always a dangerous undertaking—for her recommendation on a luxury car for his date. With Karen’s need to have the best in everything, he figured she’d know.

  Karen hadn’t been at Dino’s but she’d heard about Anna’s ride and her bet with Kyle. Karen tortured him by demanding the full story then directed him to a dealer in White Fork, who’d rented Kyle the plushest car he’d ever ridden in. The thing practically drove itself, alerting Kyle when cars approached and slowing down automatically if he got too close to the vehicle ahead of him.

  When Anna stepped out onto the porch of the little shotgun house, Kyle forgot about the car, the bet, and the rest of his life.