The Art Of Falling

by Julie Jarnagin

  She gave a nervous laugh. “We want to play some B-roll of you. We’re going to set up huge screens all over the room and play it in the background as everyone eats dinner.”

  He was right to be nervous. Huge screens with his face seemed over-the-top. “You want to make a video of me?”

  “It will be like they’re on the ranch with you. You did say you live on a ranch, right?”

  He didn’t know if you could call it that. He did have a little piece of land outside the city. A barn and a pasture for his horses. An ancient little house he kept saying he would tear down to build a new one. But why did a guy like him need a nice house? He was hardly ever there. “I don’t know if it’s what you’re envisioning.”

  “I’m sure it’ll be great. I could take a look at it before I bring a cameraman, if it wouldn’t be too much trouble.”

  Heather at his house—the thought of it was exciting and nerve-wracking, but he had to be careful. The scent of her perfume and the sound of her laugh were getting to him. It was a slippery slope. He had no business wondering what it would be like to kiss her, but that’s where his mind kept going. He had other things in his life he needed to focus on—taking care of his mom and winning the upcoming rodeos. “I don’t know.”

  “What is it? You’re camera shy?” She nudged him with her elbow. “You’re scared your friends will find out you’re hanging out in art museums now?”

  Her touch sent a shiver through him. Pull it together, Wyatt. “It’s not that.”

  “Ah.” She smiled. “That’s right. You’re a bull rider. You aren’t scared of anything.”

  But Heather was wrong. He was afraid of how she made his thoughts go blurry. An athlete needed focus and precision. He tightened his lips. “That’s right. I’ve had to learn how to make sure nothing gets to me.”

  She stuck one finger in the air. “Hang on a minute. I have something I want to show you.”

  When she stood, he couldn’t help watching her walk into the house. He had it bad for her, and he needed to snap out of it.

  A few minutes later she reappeared, smiling. She held a large envelope out to him. “We finished the mock-up of the invitations today. They’re going out a little late, but luckily we sent the save-the-date cards months ago. I thought this might get you excited about the event.”

  Sliding a thick square invitation from the envelope, he tried to imagine the kind of people who would pay $10,000 per table for a night out. They’d be expecting an emcee who could live up to this fancy envelope. He was more of a flyer under the front windshield kind of guy. “You’re cordially invited,” he read aloud, “to the fourteenth annual Spring Gala.” He looked at Heather. “Gala?”

  She shrugged. “It sounds more lavish when you call it a gala.”

  Like his mother, Heather had conveniently left out the most important parts. “With special guest, world-renowned bull rider, Wyatt Lawrence.” He pointed at the bottom of the card. “Hang on. This says ‘black tie.’ You mean I have to wear a tuxedo?”

  She nodded. “Of course.”

  “But you said it was cowboy-themed.” Last time he looked, he didn’t have a tuxedo hanging in his trailer next to his leather chaps and silver belt buckles.

  “There’ll be horseshoes and rope incorporated in the centerpieces. The wait staff will be wearing bolo ties.”

  Bolo ties? “You’re joking, right?”

  “Don’t worry. It’ll be elegant. I’m working with Paige Morgan. She’s one of the best event planners in Dallas.”

  Elegant? That wasn’t what he was worried about. What had he agreed to? He would look like a joke in front of all those people. Like some kind of prop for the party. He handed Heather the invitation. “Things keep changing. I’m beginning to feel like I don’t know exactly what I signed up for.”

  She sat motionless. “I assumed you knew it would be black tie,” she said softly.

  This is what happened when he got distracted. He’d been so busy falling all over himself for Heather that he’d signed himself up to be a puppet for a bunch of rich people. “It’s not just the black tie. I can’t help thinking you could find someone else better for this.”

  The color drained from her face. “You’re not having second thoughts, are you? I’ve already told the board.”

  The hinges of the door squeaked, and his mom stepped out onto the porch.

  The tension still hanging in the air between Heather and Wyatt, he leaned back in his chair and tried to act natural. No need to get his mom any more involved than she already was.

  Lorraine stopped and straightened. “What’s wrong? What are you talking about?”

  Heather stood and handed her the invitation. “I was just showing this to Wyatt. Don’t they look nice?”

  So much for leaving Mom out of it. “Lovely.” She pointed at it. “‘World-renowned bull rider’! I like that, and it’s black tie. Wyatt, do you have anything to wear?”

  He clenched his jaw, feeling ganged up on. “Maybe you can help me with that, Mom.”

  She patted a hand on his arm. “Of course I can. That’ll be fun.”

  As his mother chattered over the pizza, Heather smiled politely, but she was quieter than before. He’d upset her. Way to go, Lawrence. She’d driven across the city to fill his mom’s freezer with food, and he’d thrown a fit about wearing a tux.

  But he couldn’t help that he felt uncomfortable about it. He wasn’t the right guy for this.

  After everyone had eaten, Heather scooted her chair back. “I hate to leave, but I don’t like to drive when it gets too late.” She looked to Wyatt. “Maybe you could call me at the museum to go over all the details. Make sure we’re both on the same page.”

  They might not even be in the same book. “Probably a good idea.”

  But as Heather bit the inside of her lip, he realized he didn’t want to disappoint her.

  Wyatt and Lorraine followed her toward the front of the house, and his mom slapped him on the arm as Heather reached her car and waved. “She wants you to call her,” she whispered. “I think she likes you.”

  Right now, that seemed unlikely, and it wasn’t the biggest problem. The problem was, he was crazy about her. Missing details or not.

  Chapter Three

  The next day at work, Heather moved forward with plans for the gala. As she worked on the agenda for the night, she tried to ignore the nagging feeling that Wyatt might back out. But that wasn’t the only thing that bothered her. She’d felt a connection to Wyatt. Then he’d acted as if she’d been trying to hide something from him…again. She didn’t want anyone to think of her as manipulative, especially Wyatt.

  The intercom on her desk phone beeped.

  “Heather,” the receptionist said. “Wyatt Lawrence is here to see you.”

  She stiffened as a bolt of unease ran through her. He was going to cancel. Why else would he come in person? She couldn’t tell the board that another emcee had fallen through. “Oh, um. Okay. Send him back.” She looked around her cluttered desk and began stacking papers and then stopped herself. Her stray sticky notes probably wouldn’t bother the bull rider.

  There was a knock on the door, and she stood. “Come in.”

  Wyatt stepped inside. “Am I interrupting?”

  “Not at all. Just working on the fundraiser.” She blew out a breath. He really was good looking, and she wasn’t normally the kind of girl who drooled over the cowboy boots and hats. The supporters at the gala would love him. The men would want to be him because of his bull-riding credentials and the women, well, that part was obvious. That little scar above his eye. Those dimples he probably hated because they took the edge off his tough exterior. Every woman in Texas would be chasing him. More importantly, the board would be happy that the event would meet all its fundraising goals, and she’d have a shot at keeping the Director of Development position. “I hope you’re still going to be there.”

  He pulled his mouth to the side. “I don’t think I can go through with this fundrai
ser.”

  She deflated. Didn’t a cowboy giving his word mean something—like in the movies? “I honestly didn’t realize the black-tie thing would be a big deal.”

  “It’s not that. I probably overreacted to that, but in the end, I made a rash decision when I agreed to it. Right now, I need to focus on my mom’s health and my work.”

  Now what was she supposed to do? “You drove all the way to the city to tell me?” she asked, trying to hide the frustration in her voice. “You could have called.”

  “I owed you a face-to-face conversation, especially after how nice you’ve been to my mom.”

  Part of her had wished he’d come here because he’d wanted to see her again. How naive that had been. “I appreciate that, but it wasn’t necessary.” Walking back behind her desk, she tried to shake off the panic that twisted her insides. How was she going to find another emcee at this late date?

  He turned to her bookshelf, looking at the pictures of her family and her framed diploma. “Nice office.”

  Why was he lingering? Guilt? “It’s a mess.” Stacks of files and boxes lined the walls. “I’m in a transition right now, taking on two jobs.”

  “Two jobs?” His dimples made another appearance. “One isn’t enough?”

  “My boss quit suddenly. I was her assistant. I’m filling in until they hire someone permanently…unless I can convince them to hire me.” And she needed this job. The position they hired her for was a great way to get her foot in the door, but she barely made enough to cover her bills. The new job would give her more financial security and put her on track to her long term career plans.

  He sat in the chair across from her. “And how do you do that?”

  “By meeting our fundraising goals at the gala.” Which now felt impossible without a big-name emcee. “I don’t have as much experience as they would like, but if I can prove I can handle the job, I think I’ll have a shot at it.” Not to mention she’d botched the first fundraiser. Her boss leaving only a week before the event left Heather to untangle the details. In the end, the event had happened, but they didn’t bring in the money they’d planned to raise. “The board was thrilled with the idea of you being there. I guess now I’ll just have to find someone else.” If that was even possible so close to the event.

  His gaze stayed locked on her. “You really think that me being there would make it a success?”

  She held her breath, saying a silent prayer that he was reconsidering. “It would absolutely help. Think of how much money you’ll help raise for the kids in the art program. I have no doubt that we’ll bring in more donations with you there.”

  He rubbed his hand against his jaw. “It’s for the kids, huh?” He was quiet for a second and then shook his head. “How do you keep getting me to change my mind?”

  She sighed in relief. “So you’ll do it?”

  He nodded, hesitation still written in the lines on his brow. “Somehow you’ve convinced me to emcee a gala at an art museum and wear a tuxedo. I have no doubt you can persuade everyone there to donate.”

  “And you aren’t going to back out again?” She let her gaze wander over the office. She really wanted to keep it. Needed this job. If he agreed…

  He held out an open palm. “I promise. Shake on it?”

  She put her hand in his.

  It was firm and strong. The same hand that clung for dear life in the arena. He held her gaze.

  She cleared her throat and pulled away. “What about the video?” she said, hoping she wasn’t asking too much.

  He gave a reluctant smile. “Sure. The video, too. Can you come by next week?”

  “That would be great.”

  He took a pen and a post-it note from her desk. “Here’s my address. You can stop by anytime Wednesday morning.”

  She looked at the slip of paper with his information on it. Somehow she’d managed to change his mind. Wyatt might be a risk-taker, but beneath his tough exterior was a compassionate heart. She’d known that from the first time she’d seen him with his mom. Nevertheless, falling for this bull rider would only put Heather’s own heart at risk.

  Chapter Four

  Eight days later, Heather’s navigation system led her about thirty minutes outside the city. She left the buzz of the highway and made her way down a quiet county road to a beat up mailbox with one of the numbers missing. As she turned in through the open gate, she blew out a breath. She looked forward to seeing Wyatt again but prayed she wouldn’t say something that would make him change his mind and mess things up for the museum. Over the past week, she’d had the invitations printed and mailed. There was no turning back.

  His land was beautiful, vast and green, with a line of trees at the front of the property. The house, on the other hand, was not. She pulled up in front of a seventies-style ranch with Spanish-style arched windows. The house was small and dated. Wyatt’s old truck was parked under a carport that looked like it might cave in at any moment. Seriously?

  His mom had made a point of telling her what a good living he made as a bull rider. His home certainly didn’t show it, which only endeared him to her more. Spending much of her time fundraising for the museum, she’d quickly learned the people who liked to flaunt their money tended to be the most difficult to work with. In the end, those who didn’t flaunt their wealth had the kindest attitudes and gave the most to the museum.

  She stepped out of the car and walked to the front door. Money didn’t impress Heather. Her parents had plenty of it, and Nana certainly had more than enough. But all the money in the world didn’t make her parents happy. It certainly couldn’t bring Heather’s brother back.

  Money was just money. What impressed her was a man who would do anything to make his sick mom happy. A tough bull rider who let his mother show people photos of him naked on a blanket as a baby. She rang the doorbell and waited.

  A smile snuck onto her lips as she remembered Lorraine proudly handing her his Halloween picture when he’d dressed up like a Transformer in Kindergarten. The adorable kid had turned into a man whose sheer presence stole her breath. But she couldn’t focus on that.

  She was here for the museum. Nothing more.

  When there wasn’t an answer to her knock, she walked around to the side of the house, wondering if she should have changed out of her dress pants and white button up blouse. She circled the truck with the sticker of a bucking bull on the back window. Seemed he was home. But where?

  Maybe he was in the big metal barn. As she headed toward it, someone yelled. “Whoa, fella, whoa.”

  She turned and followed the shouting. Behind the barn in a fenced corral, Wyatt rode in the saddle of a horse that didn’t look pleased to have him there. The horse’s ears were back, and it jerked its head around.

  Suddenly, its hooves tapped the ground and then flew up in the air, leaving Wyatt to shift his weight to keep from being thrown off.

  Heather’s heart thudded, and a far-too-familiar ball of dread rose up inside her. That animal must be over a thousand pounds. And Wyatt was eight feet or more off the ground. If he fell and landed wrong…

  “Steady, boy. Steady.”

  The horse ran and then pulled its head back. Then the horse’s back legs flew up, and Heather gasped.

  Wyatt’s attention moved from the top of the horse’s head to where Heather stood ten feet outside the corral. Their eyes met. The horse must have sensed its chance. It jerked the other way, sending Wyatt flying.

  “Wyatt!”

  He hit the ground with a sickening thud, letting out a loud “umph.” He lay still.

  She ran toward the edge of the corral. “Are you okay? Wyatt?”

  The horse trotted off, still kicking up dirt. Wyatt rolled over with a groan. “Hi, Heather,” he said with barely any breath to get the words out. “Glad you could make it.”

  “I’m serious. Are you hurt?”

  He shifted to a seated position, picked up his hat, dusted off the dirt, and stuck it on his head. “I’m fine. I learned the art
of falling a long time ago, but my ego’s a little bruised. I’ve ridden some of the toughest bulls in the country, and I just let a little gelding throw me.”

  The horse now stood against the fence, acting like nothing had happened.

  “What in the world were you doing? You could have really gotten hurt.”

  He stood and dusted off his jeans. “It’s probably not the smartest thing to risk getting injured during a season, but I don’t usually get thrown.”

  “I’m so sorry. I feel like I’m responsible.”

  He shook his head, looking a little disgusted. “No. It’s my fault for getting distracted. I was trying to train this green horse. He has a feisty streak, that’s for sure.”

  “Aren’t there better ways to do that?”

  “Maybe, but they wouldn’t be as fun.”

  Fun? Was he crazy?

  As he climbed over the fence, she tried not to notice the play of the muscles in his arms. He was a reckless bull rider. Maybe if she reminded herself often enough, she’d be able to ignore the flutter of attraction in her stomach.

  He stood in front of her. “I’m glad you found the place okay. Do you want to take a tour?”

  She nodded, her pulse still racing, though he seemed as over it as the horse. “I’d love one.”

  They walked back toward the barn. “The house isn’t much. I’ve always said I’m going to build another one on the back of the property nearer to the pond. Even had some plans drawn up, but then I wondered why a guy like me needs a big fancy house. Except to shower and sleep, I spend most of my time outside. I bought this place on a whim when I came out to look at a trailer someone was selling. I ended up keeping my old trailer and buying a house and twenty acres instead.”

  He seemed at ease on his own turf, at home here. He always had an easy way about him she liked, but today was different. She saw how naturally he fit into this world she knew nothing about. It made their differences seem starker.

  His brow wrinkled. “You definitely don’t want to do any filming of the house unless you like orange shag carpet and terrible wallpaper.”