Rodeo Summer: A Camden Ranch Novel

by Jillian Neal

  “Let me go!”

  “I’m gonna let you go, sugar, but let’s not give him what he wants, okay? Simmer down for me.”

  She stomped hard on his foot with her well-worn cowgirl boots and attempted a ferocious growl. She sounded a great deal more like a frightened kitten. He gritted his teeth and pretended to be unaffected. She was trying so hard to be brave and stick it to Brant. Austin would never betray the frightened shivers he could feel against his chest. Damn, but he liked her spunk. He was also fairly certain he now had a broken toe. She wriggled again and tried to get her elbows in the game.

  “If I let you go, do you promise not to hit Captain Douchebag?” He watched her try to hide a slight grin as she nodded. “All right.” He released her and stepped between her and Brant in one quick move.

  “What’d you do to her, Preston? You know acting like a pussy won’t get you any.”

  “Fuck off, Camden. Always sticking your nose where it doesn’t belong is gonna get you in trouble.” Preston narrowed his eyes at the woman. She was still glaring at Brant with her arms crossed over her stunning cleavage. Austin tried not to stare at her tits. The black tank-top she was wearing didn’t hide much. Her dark, dirty-blonde hair hung limply down her back, and her red-rimmed, whisky-colored eyes were trying to size him up. She’d been crying. He’d tear Brant Preston to pieces and bury him a pile of cow shit. He ignored the thundering race of his heart as he offered her a slight smile. Damn, but she was beautiful. Broken … but beautiful. She made those Q-baby Wranglers, real cowgirl’s favorites, look like they’d been painted on as part of a stunning masterpiece. She had the finest ass he’d ever seen, and that was saying something.

  “Go back to your room, Summer. I’d hate to have to phone my lawyers to tell them that you were out drinking.”

  Summer? Austin took a closer inventory of the woman. No way. Realization settled on him slowly. Whatever was going on between her and Preston needed to end before she got herself in trouble. He didn’t sound like he was joking. The threat was legit.

  “Come on.” Austin grabbed her hand, and with a slight tug he led her out of the Silver Dollar.

  ***

  “What the hell do you think you’re doing?” Summer tripped slightly, cursed her own clumsiness, and finally let Austin Camden pull her out of the bar. Better question — What the hell am I doing?

  “I’m getting you away from Brant Preston. Guy’s an asshat, unable to locate his half-inch dick in the dirt he stuck it in. Are you really Summer Sanchez?”

  Summer rolled her eyes dramatically. “Brant’s a jackass. Yeah, there’s news. Somebody alert the press. Hello, I married the asshole.”

  “What?” Austin’s mouth hung open. Summer tried not to notice the fire in his onyx eyes, or the way his Wranglers tugged and pulled against his extremely firm ass with each step he took, and how tight that white t-shirt was pulled against the lean muscles of his chest and torso. “You’re married to that guy?”

  “Was married. He’s my ex. Why’d you stop me from hitting him? He deserves it, believe me.” Irritation and thankfulness mixed in a confusing storm in the pit of her empty stomach.

  “No doubt, sugar, but I have a policy—never give Brant Preston anything he wants. He was begging you to hit him. That can’t be good.”

  The thankfulness won out over her irritation for the moment. Summer hated to admit he was right. Hitting Brant could have ended in disaster. Not that she couldn’t take his little pansy-ass, but there was far too much at stake for her to give into her temper now.

  “Here,” Austin opened the tailgate of his truck, a gorgeous luxury Silverado that looked brand new. He’d been winning all season. She was certain his bank accounts were choking with the bonuses he’d received, and just like every other rodeo cowboy, he was gonna spend it all before he made it to the next town. They were all so damn certain they had a pot full of gold waiting at the end of every line. It was gonna suck when he figured out that wasn’t how life worked.

  Summer watched Austin as he dug in the toolbox of the truck until he located a bottle of whiskey and then patted the gate, urging her to join him.

  Summer knew she should leave; not that she really had anywhere to go. “I haven’t had anything to eat.” Her half-whispered confession dissipated in the humid Wyoming air. She wasn’t getting drunk with some guy she only knew because he’d been lighting up the rodeo circuit score boards all season long. There was no food in her system to buffer the effects of whiskey. “And I’m not some buckle bunny that’s gonna go with you back to your room just because you were nice to her and gave her a drink.”

  “No, you’re sure as hell not a buckle bunny, not by a long shot. So, why don’t you tell me who you are? I’m not trying to get you drunk. I’m not an asshole. I just thought this might help us both simmer down.” He lifted the whiskey bottle he still hadn’t opened. “Some chick stomped on my foot, and it hurts like a bitch.”

  Laughing in spite of herself, Summer hopped up on the tailgate. “I guess I didn’t answer that last question. Yes, I’m Summer Sanchez … or I used to be, and you’re the one that wouldn’t let me go.”

  “Not gonna apologize for that, but I will say I was sorry to hear about your father’s passing. I followed his career since I was just a little kid. I saw you ride in Burwell a couple of years ago. You put on an impressive show. You still barrel racing?”

  Summer felt her own jaw tighten. Guy sure asked a lot of questions. If she hadn’t owed him so freaking much, she’d have refused to answer any of them. As it stood, he’d effectively just saved her life, so she drew a deep breath and reached for the whiskey bottle. After downing a swallow, she shook her head. “No, I’m not racing anymore, and thanks for what you said about my father. I didn’t really know him that well, and when I did know him he was an asshole.” She shrugged.

  And there it was, the concern and the sympathy she hated displayed in his gorgeous eyes fringed by deep black eyelashes that slowly blinked in the understanding that her dad may have been Mitchum Sanchez, rodeo king, greatest bareback bronc rider in the U.S., but he wasn’t much of a father.

  “I’m sorry,” Austin offered her.

  “Not your fault.” She took another slight sip of the whiskey, still careful not to drink too much.

  “Hey, uh, I’m sick to death of this bar, and honestly, this entire town. Wanna go see if we can find a steakhouse? Riding makes me hungry, so I’m starved. You just said you hadn’t eaten.”

  Glancing around, Summer weighed her options. Austin Camden had the reputation of being a nice guy; a little cocky, but what bull rider wasn’t? She studied him. Yeah, he was a nice guy, but there was a definite edge in his gaze. Intensity broadcast from every chiseled plane of his body. He radiated masculinity and sex appeal. Sure, she’d be safe enough with him, and she was starving, but her heart may not survive. He was far too tempting, and it had been so, so long.

  They wouldn’t be out too long. She could go by Brant’s room to check on everything when they got back. Brant would probably be out all night long, asshole that he was. Her stomach answered before she could accept the invite. An embarrassingly loud growl rolled in her gut.

  Laughing at her outright, Austin hopped off the tailgate. “Come on. Just dinner. I’m not asking for anything more than that. Let’s get away from Brant and all the other shit going on in there.” He gestured back to the bar.

  “Yeah, okay, but just dinner.”

  Chapter Two

  Mesmerized, Austin watched Summer inhale the large cheeseburger and plateful of fries — the best fries he’d had outside of Nebraska. They’d made quick work of the jalapeno cheese things he’d ordered as an appetizer. Summer seemed to like the spice, and he grew more intrigued with her with each passing moment. He’d spent the better part of ten minutes trying to get her to order the steak he knew she wanted, but she’d refused. Stubborn. He grinned in spite of himself. Her eyes closed and a soft moan of satisfaction escaped her as she took the center bite of th
e burger.

  Damn, damn, damn. He quelled a groan of his own just watching her. She hadn’t been terribly forthcoming with information as of yet, but he was having more fun with her than he’d had in months.

  “So, if you’re not barrel racing anymore, did you just come to see the show?” he finally asked when she’d mopped up her beautiful mouth, licking her full, pink lips, and made his Wranglers uncomfortably tight.

  “I … uh didn’t make it to the rodeo tonight. I was … busy. I heard them announce your score though. Congratulations.”

  “Thanks. Your ex wanted my bull checked.” Austin rolled his eyes.

  “Yeah, well anytime somebody ain’t rimming Brant’s pansy-ass he starts whining and pitching a fit like a two-year-old.”

  Austin couldn’t help but chuckle at her vehemence and her filthy mouth. He was more than aware that he might’ve just stumbled upon the world’s most perfect woman, for him anyway. His heart still couldn’t seem to locate a steadying beat, and his entire body ached to hold her against him again.

  “Good for you for pissing him off. I knew I liked you.” A slight pink heat formed on her cheeks from her admittance.

  A smirk formed rapidly on his features. So she liked him, did she? He’d sure take that. “You still living in New Mexico?”

  Summer glanced at the well-worn carpeting in the steakhouse and then at a couple entering through the pane-glassed doors. “No, not really.”

  Damn, girl wasn’t giving anything away. Desperate to get something out of her, he considered. Maybe if he let a little slack out in the rope. Gave a little something to get something back. “You know, I never thought I’d be saying this, but, honestly, I can’t wait to get back home. I miss the ranch. Never tell my old man I said that, though.”

  He earned a genuine chuckle. “Yeah, that was the part I always hated about barrel racing. I used to worry over mama and the farm.” Pain darkened her whiskey-brown eyes and stiffened her entire body. “We used to rent a little house on the McCallister’s farm in Bernalillo. Mama kept up with all of their youngins, and they let me ride.”

  Her words were haunted and quick, like the sting was too much for her to bear. Austin reached and gently squeezed the hand she held in a tight fist against the table. His thumb soothed the tender skin he encountered. A wild spark of electricity shot up his arm and hit him squarely in the chest. His breath snared in his lungs. What the hell did this woman have that made him react this way? Pleased she’d finally given him something, he leaned in. “Is that why you quit racing? You need to get back to your mama?”

  “No.” And there it was. One word. Nothing more. She shut him out again, just like that. Austin knew Mitchum had never married Summer’s mother. In fact, no one knew Summer even existed until she’d ridden her own birth announcement, twenty years after the blessed event, into an arena in Santa Fe on a calico quarter horse right about the time her father was showing off his belt buckle. She rounded the hell outta the third barrel, the crowd leapt to their feet, and she proved her birth name in every possible way. The next generation of Sanchez rode in like a bolt of lightning. Wild child, so everyone said. He wondered what her father had thought of that. Up until that moment, he’d assumed Mitchum had gotten her into rodeo, but after her declaration that she didn’t know her father and her feeling that he was an asshole, he wondered just what Summer Sanchez was doing such a good job of trying to conceal.

  “You didn’t get hurt, did you?” Barrel racing was hard as hell. Something about her being thrown or injured made him restless. Panic churned in his gut.

  After a dramatic eye roll she gave him an incredulous glare. “Do I look like I don’t know how to ride, Camden?”

  Chuckling and shaking his head, another smirk formed readily on his lips as he winked at her. “No, honey, you sure as hell look like you know how to ride.”

  She tried to conceal a slight grin and mean mugged him instead. “Everyone gets thrown, bound to happen sooner or later. You’re gonna land on your ass sometime. Don’t think you won’t.”

  “I ride bulls for a livin’, darlin’. I land on my ass most every night. I’ve broken every damn bone in my body, some of ‘um twice. ‘Sides, it’s not the fall …”

  “… It’s the way you get back up. Yeah, so I’ve been told.”

  Austin signaled the waitress and pointed to Summer’s empty glass of Coke. “If I’m not being too forward, how the hell did a smart, beautiful woman that can ride a horse like nobody’s business end up with the likes of Brantley Preston?”

  Cocking her jaw to the side, she stared him down. “Guess I figured I hadn’t done enough in my life to regret.”

  Before Austin could formulate a response, she threw another nervous glance around the relatively quiet steakhouse. “So, uh, where’s your ranch? Who runs it for you while you’re playing rodeo hero?”

  “Damn, woman, conversations with you are like riding a rollercoaster that’s come off the track. I’m from a little town in Nebraska no one’s ever heard of. My whole family owns the ranch. My parents still run everything, but I have a litter of brothers and sisters, and heck, even a cousin and his wife, that run everything. I go back when the season’s over.”

  “Not enough excitement working cattle? You gotta get your fix trying to kill yourself on a ballsy bull? Prove you’re really living.”

  He couldn’t figure out a thing about her, but she certainly had his number.

  “Something like that … maybe.”

  There was some sense of distant understanding in the wildfire that glowed from her eyes. Like maybe, at one time, she’d had the same need for the fix.

  “I kind of figured you were from Oklahoma, where your sponsors are.”

  So, she’d noticed him enough to know about Minton. Interesting.

  “Yeah, everyone thinks that. I never bother to correct anyone. Let ‘um think I’m from Tulsa. I don’t give a damn. I’m not here to put Pleasant Glen on the map.”

  “Pleasant Glen.” A sweet smile appeared on her beautiful lips. “That sounds nice.”

  “Yeah, it is nice. Grew up working my ass off. Never really realized there was anything outside of the Glen, to tell you the truth. I thought everybody got up at four and fed cattle, got soaked when it rained, tanned our own hides every summer out in the fields, and ate enough for four city-boys every night at supper. I was sure that’s what everyone did.”

  “I kind of think everyone should.” Summer bit her bottom lip as if she might’ve given too much away.

  “Agreed.” Austin wished the table between them away. He wanted to wrap her up in his arms. Tell her that whatever had her looking so damn sad he’d make it go away. Need weighted his entire body. His muscles ached with it.

  “If you don’t mind, I kind of need to get back to … my room,” she spoke again without meeting his gaze. Lying? Maybe.

  There were a few bites of filet left on his plate. Desire had kept him at half-mast for the entire meal. He cut a hunk of the perfectly prepared steak. “All right, I’ll take you back, but you have to try this first. It’s delicious.” He held the fork to her lips as she narrowed her eyes. “Come on, I’m not force feeding you gruel. It’s a fucking filet.”

  Rolling her eyes, she parted those luscious lips and accepted the meat. Her eyes closed again as it filled her mouth. Austin clenched his own jaw and watched her work the steak in her mouth. His cock damn near severed the zipper of his old blue jeans.

  “Damn, that is good,” she admitted with a soft sexy sigh.

  “I told you. Next time, I’m ordering for you Miss ‘I just want a cheeseburger.’”

  “Next time?” She was quick to resurrect the guards she constantly clung to.

  “Hell yeah. I plan on making bank tomorrow night at the finals. Come out and celebrate with me, then you’re coming to Cheyenne, right? Everyone goes to Cheyenne.”

  “Yeah, I’m going to Cheyenne.” She rolled her eyes.

  Austin ignored her disdain, since it didn’t seem direct
ed at him. “Perfect, then I can court you all over Cheyenne Frontier Days. You were married to Brant Preston, so I’m assuming you have no idea what a real man is capable of, honey. Let me show you.”

  “Court me? What year are you livin’ in? And my God, you’re all the same. So, you just up and think I’m gonna follow you around Cheyenne licking your …”

  Austin raised his left eyebrow in wicked intrigue. “What might you be thinking about licking, doll baby?”

  She rolled her eyes. “Ugh, your bull-inflicted wounds and massaging your ego because you bought me dinner?”

  Refusing defeat, he shook his head. “This dinner has nothing to do with me wanting to get to know you better, Summer. What’s wrong with that? Unless you got somebody else waiting somewhere I don’t know about, or you really hate me as much as you’d like me to believe you do, why can’t I take you out?”

  “A lot of reasons, Austin, and I don’t hate you,” she choked over the last few words. The truth must’ve been difficult to swallow.

  “Then give me a chance. I don’t need my ego massaged or my wounds licked. I have several other things I’d far rather your efforts go to if you’re offering.”