by Em Petrova
“Good, let’s head to the concessions, why don’t we?” Thunder took off into the crowd. People stopped him to say hi or take a photo with him, and he was patient with everyone.
Ryder trailed behind with Joy, getting similar treatment. Except there were more fans swamping him and he wasn’t remotely patient. He ground his teeth as people took selfies with him or asked for his autograph. All he wanted was to get Joy alone again.
Halfway to the concession stand, he spotted Wynonna weaving through the throng of people, her hat pulled low. But he knew that grimace on her lips—she was crying.
He rested a hand on Joy’s arm. “Will you go on and tell your father I’ll be right there? I see some family business that needs a minute of my time.”
She blinked up at him, all sweet, feminine cowgirl. Nibbling her lower lip, she looked as if she wanted to say something.
He cottoned on to it. “I know nobody keeps your father waiting, but this is important.” He glanced toward the place where Wynonna had disappeared.
Joy nodded, making her long, thick braid caress her round breast. Ryder clamped off a groan of need and smoothed her arm with his fingers.
“Thank you. I’ll just be a minute.” He reluctantly released her and dodged into the crowd.
As soon as he rounded a hot dog truck, he saw Wynonna standing with Lane, her head on his shoulder and her body giving those little telltale tremors of tears.
“What happened?” Ryder demanded.
Wynonna jerked away from Lane’s hold and narrowed her eyes at Ryder. “Nothing. I’m going back to my room to freshen up before my event.”
Before he could stop her, she was gone.
Ryder and Lane looked at each other. “You’d better tell me,” Ryder said with a note of no-nonsense.
Lane leaned near. “She’s emotional.”
“I can see that. What the hell happened?”
“She and producer broke things off.”
“Thank God.”
“Well yeah, but what if he tells the network and she’s kicked off the show? The series isn’t complete without all of us.” Lane scuffed his knuckles over his jaw.
Dammit, this same clause had Ryder locked in too. Not just into the contract—he could get out of it easy enough if he delivered a right hook to one of the camera guys—but his family was relying on him.
He shook his head and rubbed his own jaw, which was just as square as his brother’s. “What should we do?” he asked Lane.
“Let her go get cleaned up and her head on straight. She’ll be all right. I don’t think she was in love with him.”
“Jesus, was it that serious?”
“’Fraid so. Our sister is tender-hearted. Remember all those wounded animals she dragged into the house and how broken up she’d be that she couldn’t heal them and re-release them to the wild?”
Pushing a breath through his nose, Ryder nodded. “All right, so she got attached. Does Mr. Producer need his balls crushed? Because I’ve got the boots to do it.”
Lane’s lips tipped up. “Not yet. We’ll keep an eye on him though.”
“Who else knows about this?”
Lane gave a laugh that brought several heads around to stare, mostly the female variety. “You know the family—everybody knows.”
“Family meeting after the events,” Ryder said.
“I’ll let everyone know.”
With a nod, Ryder dove back into the crowd to meet up with Thunder and his stunning daughter. He located them at the beer tent. Joy had two cups in hand, and she thrust it at him as he approached. Their fingers brushed around the cool plastic, and she hurriedly pulled free and looked away.
“Let’s take a seat.” Thunder jerked his head toward a picnic table.
Many negotiations had taken place at a county fair picnic table. Businesses were started and terms negotiated. Ryder just never guessed he’d be in this position.
He settled on the bench across from Joy and Thunder. They all took a sip of beer. It tasted like cat piss but at least it was cold.
“You probably know why I’m talking to you, Calhoun.”
He dipped his head. “I can guess.”
“I’ve been watching you for a while now, even before you started with your reality series. You could say I knew the bull rider before he put his own stamp on the world.”
“I appreciate it.” Ryder didn’t dare stare at Joy for too long. He risked her father’s wrath, but worse, he couldn’t trust himself not to lunge across the table, cup her delicate face and lay one on her.
“As you know, I offer my services working with bull riders to get them up to top performance levels. I won’t beat around the bush here—I want to work with you, son.”
Ryder’s chest filled with something warm and helium-like. When was the last time he’d felt this way?
When kissing Joy.
Ryder tried to organize his thoughts. His mother had been excited by the idea of Ryder going pro. But he still wasn’t convinced he was cut out for it. He loved riding bulls—but was he so dedicated that he’d live on the road, constantly alone and out of touch with his family and reality? Was he willing to give up so much for a little more fame and cash prizes?
He pressed his lips together.
Seeing he might be about to turn him down, Thunder raised a hand. “Don’t answer yet. Give it some thought first. I can do a lot for you, Calhoun, but I only take competitors who are devoted to winning.”
Ryder slid his gaze sideways to Joy. She had only taken a sip or two of her beer, but thoughts of tasting it on her ran rampant through his head.
“What do you think?” he asked her.
Her lips popped open in surprise and her eyes rounded. Damn, she had a little spattering of freckles across the bridge of her upturned nose. “I agree with my father—you’re skilled enough. You just need a little honing to take home the whole national title.”
His chest expanded. He held his breath for a heartbeat before releasing it slowly. “Pretty words, for sure. And something to think about. But you’re right—I need to give it some thought. Thank you for your offer.”
A camera zoomed around his head like an annoying shit-fly. He latched onto Joy’s gaze again, and she gave him a little private smile. Did she understand how annoying it was for him to be in the spotlight 24/7? That sweet smile said she did.
“Ryder! There you are!”
He glanced over to see a woman barreling his way, all legs and blonde hair. He recognized her at once and nearly got up and ran for it. The last thing he wanted was a confrontation from a woman he’d slept with months ago in front of Joy.
He stiffened as he spotted her rounded stomach jutting from above her jeans, which had the waist unbuckled and tucked down over her pregnant belly.
“We need to talk, Ryder,” she said, caressing her distended abdomen. “About the baby.”
* * * * *
Joy’s heart slammed against her ribs and she barely gathered enough oxygen to remain upright. She goggled at the scene before her.
This woman—obviously a Buckle Bunny by the looks of her—was approaching Ryder about getting her knocked up?
Or did he already know?
Joy started to get up, and her father followed. “We’ll leave you in privacy,” he muttered.
“Wait, no. This kid can’t be mine. What the hell are you doing, Ashley?”
That he recalled her name meant he had some tie to her. Joy grunted and got to her feet, the few sips of swill she’d drunk sitting like poison in her stomach. She was right about Ryder—he was a no-good cowboy whore like all the rest.
“Joy.” The rough sound of her name on his lips brought her up short. She looked into his eyes, noting shock and fury and hurt on his handsome face.
He shot to his feet.
Suddenly Joy took pity on him. He looked as stunned as she felt, and with the cameras buzzing around him, he was close to losing his shit.
“Daddy, I’ll meet you back at the stables, okay?” No
t waiting for his reply, she rounded the table and pushed her way between the pregnant Ashley and the man she claimed as the father.
Joy grabbed each of their arms and marched them through the crowd with a terse, “Stop filming,” to the crew. She got Ryder and the woman into a quiet spot and turned to leave.
“Wait. Joy.” He stepped up to her, flooding her with his body heat. Bowing over her, he whispered, “Why’d you do that?”
She lifted her shoulders, as stumped as he was. “I know you don’t want it aired this way.”
With that, she made her escape, aching deep in her bones where hope had once lifted for a few short hours on her way to Cheyenne.
For a long time she wandered the grounds, avoiding people she knew. At times like this, a spot of her own privacy would be welcome. Right now, the only alone time she’d get was in a bathroom stall.
She went into the ladies’ room and was immediately met with the sound of weeping.
Crap, she wasn’t in the mood to hear somebody’s sob story. She couldn’t help anyway, but this happened far too often to her. She had a soft spot for human plight and people often confided in her. She started to spin back to the door to go, when a tall, beautiful auburn-haired woman came out of a stall.
They took one look at each other, and Wynonna’s tears started up again. Joy’s shoulders drooped as she realized she was stuck talking something out with the youngest member of the Calhoun family whether she wanted to or not. If she left now, she’d be an inconsiderate ass.
Seeing her cry left Joy feeling as though her dear friend had been hurt.
“Can I help you?” Joy asked softly.
Wynonna sniffled and tried to mop her tears and nose simultaneously with a soggy hunk of toilet paper.
Taking pity on her, Joy went to the paper towel dispenser and jerked free a handful. She placed the wad in Wynonna’s hands.
“Thank you,” she said through a stuffed nose.
Joy waited for her to dry her nose and eyes. “Why don’t you splash some cold water on your face? It might make you feel better.”
She shook her head even as she moved to the sink. “Nothing will make me feel better. And I can’t go out there. I’m going to have to forfeit today.”
Joy blinked. A Calhoun was letting life get in the way of winning? That wasn’t the person she knew from the reality show.
“You can’t do that. Let me get you a drink and we’ll wait until you feel better before going out into the public eye.”
Wynonna dragged in an unsteady breath. “I’m an idiot and now I’m paying the price. Buck warned me to stay away from him.”
“From whom?” Joy leaned against the sink.
“Ethan.” At the name, tears started steadily falling again.
Joy pushed away from the sink and pulled Wynonna into her arms. She couldn’t be much younger than Joy was but she seemed both stronger and yet more fragile. Physically, she was a powerhouse, as muscled as an athlete but with enough curves to attract some asshole named Ethan who’d hurt her.
Suddenly, she felt a strong camaraderie with Wynonna. She squeezed her new friend. “I don’t know who Ethan is or what happened between you, but you’re a gorgeous and amazing woman who will find love from some worthy man in time.”
“I don’t want…love. I’m turning lesbian.”
At that, Joy laughed. She couldn’t help it. The statement was so dramatic and exactly like the Wynonna she knew from the show.
Could that mean the real Ryder was the one she knew too—the one who wouldn’t have gotten a woman pregnant and left her hanging?
Wynonna squeezed her back. “I know you. You’re Joy Humphries.”
She nodded.
“You seem upset too. What happened to you?” Wynonna asked.
How did she say she had a blinding crush on Wynonna’s brother and he may or may not be accepting his role as a father right now?
She shook her head lightly. “I’m fine, thank you. How are you feeling?”
“Like an ass for getting sucked into starting a relationship with an older man. I think he’s in midlife crisis. Only thing he’s lacking is the earring and the gold chain.” Her spunky speech made Joy smile.
“But does he have the convertible?”
“Yes, it’s red.”
They stared at each other for a long moment and then buckled in half, laughing and snorting.
For five solid minutes they laughed until they cried. Other women came in and out of the bathroom, looking at them as if they’d lost their minds. But when Joy straightened, she felt better for it. And it appeared Wynonna did too. The normal color had come back into her high cheekbones and her eyes were mostly free of pain.
On impulse, Wynonna hugged her. “Thank you for that. I needed a friend right now. You can’t know how difficult it is having five brothers sticking their boots in my business.”
“I don’t. But being an only child has its drawbacks too. Like nobody to stand up for me or confide in.”
“You never did tell me what’s bothering you. Does he have a convertible too?”
“Worse—a hat and boots.”
Wynonna made a sympathetic noise. “Why don’t you join us for dinner after the events end? We all meet up and pig out on pizza and wings.”
Half an hour ago, Joy would have jumped at the opportunity. But now…
She shook her head. “Thanks, but my father has a celebratory dinner for his riders. He’ll want me there.”
“Another time then. I think you’d fit in real well with my family.” Wynonna’s smile was genuine.
Joy’s heart turned over. She’d believed she’d fit in too.
“Another time,” she said without much commitment. “Are you going to be okay?”
“Yes, thanks to you.” She hugged Joy again and then went to the mirror to fluff her hair. “All right, I look okay, don’t I?”
“You’re beautiful.”
Wynonna made a face that was like a little sister would give, her nose screwed up and her eyes crossed. She swept out the door and Joy took a moment before she followed. When she stepped into the sunlight, she saw Wynonna surrounded by cameras and one of her brothers at her side.
Moral support. That’s what the family was all about. What would they do for Ryder once they learned about his secret baby?
A hard grip on her elbow made her squeak. “Walk with me.” The dark rumble of Ryder’s voice slammed her at the same instant his musky, leathery scent did.
She stumbled, and he kept her upright, his arm around her middle now. “I don’t want to walk with you.”
“Too bad. You’re going to talk with me.” He maneuvered her through the crowd like a vacuum cleaner through a room stuffed with furniture. When they reached a trailer, he opened the door and practically threw her inside.
She caught herself on a short countertop, realizing this was one of the Calhouns’ personal travel trailers. Maybe even Ryder’s. She glared at him just as he launched through the door and firmly closed it behind him.
She was faced with a big, angry, determined cowboy. “I don’t like it when you try to get away from me,” he said.
A sassy retort bubbled up, but he grabbed her, silencing her with his hard lips. He kissed her deeply, drawing her onto tiptoes and against his muscled body. Unable to stop herself, she made a hungry noise. He deepened the kiss, and she wrapped her arms around him just to keep herself upright. No, she was lying to herself. She wanted to hold onto him.
“Fuck, I want you, Joy. I’ll be anything you want. Just let me in before I die from this need.”
She pushed away from him. “I don’t want you to be anything—especially not a father to that woman’s baby.”
He released her and she almost fell over. Bracing her legs, she tried to remain standing in the face of his anger, which didn’t seem to be directed at her. “It’s not my kid. I guarantee it.”
“But you slept with her. You knew her name.”
“Yeah, I did sleep with her,” he
said without a moment’s pause. “Months ago. More months than she’s been pregnant. And after I reminded her of that, she backed down and said she’d forgotten the time frame.”
Joy’s stomach bottomed out. She dipped her gaze to his broad chest, avoiding his gaze. He was having none of it.
Lifting her chin with his callused knuckle, he met her stare. “You like kissing me, and I’m a free man.”
His words sank in. Her promise to herself during the drive to Cheyenne burst in her brain like fireworks at the end of a show. Now or never.
They hurled themselves at each other.
* * * * *
The minute his lips met hers, he was fully hard. Aching and panting for her. He grabbed her ass and hitched her against his erection even as she ground against it.
Those small squeaking noises were back, burrowing deep into his psyche. He didn’t think he’d ever get them out—didn’t want to. Angling his head, he delved his tongue into her mouth, gathering all her cute little sounds and feeding his growls back to her.
She clamped her arms around him, holding him right where she wanted to as she rubbed her breasts over his chest.
“Hell,” he ground out, releasing her ass to cup her breasts. They were firm and high, smaller than most women he’d been with but sexier. Running his thumbs over the mounds, he felt for her distended nipples. As soon as he got his reward, they tore away from the kiss and stared at each other.
Her chest heaved, her lips swollen and her eyes burning. “I want you. Don’t stop.”
His heart picked up its pace as he dead-bolted the trailer door and walked her two steps backward to the futon. It was draped with a quilt, which he spread out as he eased her down.
She ran her tongue over her lower lip, and he nearly burst out of his jeans. He hit his knees before her, picking up her juicy scent of arousal and nearly swallowing his tongue.
“I have to taste you. I’m dying for it.” His voice was grittier than ever, as if he’d been drinking all night. He felt drunk, for sure.
She tossed off his hat and sank her fingers into his hair, drawing him right down against her. Groaning, he used his jaw to push up her T-shirt and get at her silky belly. Lightly tanned and taut, her bellybutton gleamed with a stud shaped like a horseshoe.
