Bodner ignored her gesture toward the line. “Our women’s competition has had crappy attendance lately.” He hitched up his pants again. “All I need is one of you gals to stay on the damn bull for eight seconds and I think things will turn around.” He studied Cassidy intently. “Can you do that for me?” he asked.
“I'm going to try,” Cassidy replied. She glanced at Kevin. He looked skeptical but she wouldn't hold that against him. She'd just prove to all of them it was possible. For the last year she'd been practicing at John Risk's beach house. In the sand she set up a mechanical bull she bought from a pawn shop. Unfortunately, she left it behind along with a lot of other stuff when she abandoned the biker life to be with her son. Yes, she and John had been living and working together.
“I hope so,” Bret commented, “because we need a bigger crowd for the women.” He looked around and gave a wave to a cowboy in a black hat. The man nodded back. “Empty seats cost me money.”
“Maybe if you didn't have it at nine o'clock in the morning more people would come,” Cassidy suggested. She glanced at Kevin. He frowned. She honestly hoped he wasn't embarrassed by her making that suggestion.
“Maybe if one of you ladies rode in a bikini that would help too,” Bodner countered. Then when he saw Cassidy's eyebrows fold, he backtracked. “I don't mean that in a sexual harassment sort of way.” He put his hands up. “It was just a joke.” He pulled at his ring finger. “See, I'm married.” He muttered under his breath. “Where is that sanctimonious Pastor John when I need him?”
Cassidy decided she was on Logan's side. She didn't like Bret Bodner either. Even though much, much worse things had been suggested to her in the last five years, she was done with all that. But before she could address bathing suits and bull riding, she heard a voice.
It sounded familiar and not in a good way. Cassidy could feel her ears strain as she tried to listen. She was positive she'd heard that soft tone before, particularly in her bed. She looked through the crowd searching desperately for the person speaking, it couldn't be John Risk. He didn't belong at the rodeo, he was still in L.A.
Most likely it wasn't him, because the only man she could attach to the voice was a cowboy in white jeans pulled up too high, a tan cowboy hat pulled down too low and an embarrassingly loud red fringed shirt. No, this man wasn't the man she loved and risked her life for. Couldn't be. John Risk was still infiltrating gangs in Southern California while trying to avoid any type of meaningful relationship with another human being. Even his damn cat.
Then the dorky cowboy turned and Cassidy's heart skipped a beat or maybe it just stopped beating all together. Cassidy put her palm over her chest and pressed because under that tan hat she recognized a pair of blue eyes she had loved. On his chin she could see a dimple she adored. And those lips, she had kissed many times, were turning up into a smirk she knew very well.
No, no, no, Cassidy wanted to cry. But too many years of training prevented her from even changing the expression on her face. She stared at the man who had gotten shot when she tried to save a sixteen year old girl from being forced into appearing in a pornographic movie. John didn't agree with what she had done and Cassidy couldn't get him to understand why she did it. So she left L.A. and hadn't seen him since.
The only indication that John recognized her was the movement of his Adam's apple. It rested above his buttoned up collar. And...that collar wasn't just any old collar. It was a clerical collar.
With a goofy smile painted on his face he came over to Bret. “Is this the new competitor for the ladies division?” he asked the president. A down home folksy accent came out of his mouth. Then he looked at Cassidy like he'd never seen her in this life or even planned on seeing her in the next.
“She's a Cooper,” Bret replied. “I've got high hopes for this girl.”
“A Cooper,” John repeated while hitting his thigh. “You may be too pretty to be a Cooper and a bull rider at the same time.” So different from the gritty words he spoke while running guns for the motorcycle club. “Now, don't you go butting heads with the bull and break something important like your chin.” Before Cassidy could reply he kept right on talking, “You wear a helmet you hear.” She’d never heard the man speak with so much concern before. “We'd be mighty worried about you if you didn't.” He wrapped all those kind words up with a beguiling smile.
Unnerved could be one way to describe Cassidy's reaction to John. Falling in stupid, stupid love all over again could be another. The man wore his brown hair in a ponytail which looked really cute in an Orlando Bloom sort of way and those penetrating blue eyes of his were still penetrating. Plus, that dimple on his chin. What more could she say about the dimple?
“Pastor John, meet Cassidy Cooper,” Bret told the man.
Pastor? Did Bret Bodner just call John Risk a minister? Cassidy couldn't imagine John's undercover skills were that accomplished. The man always posed as someone shady or deranged or just plain cold hearted, not a pillar of the community. They had a cop named Peter Goodman, who looked like Tom Hanks the early years, they used to infiltrate the churches. Plus, Oklahoma was out of the LAPD's jurisdiction. But maybe John was working for the Feds now.
Cassidy didn't know and she knew she didn't want to know. Yes, there were two sources of stress in their relationship. John's continued undercover work and Cassidy’s need to quit. Their five years with the Highwaymen disguised as a married couple had at first been exciting, then trying, followed by plain old scary.
As John played with the fringes on his shirt and stared at Cassidy, Bodner continued speaking. “Hopefully Cassidy can stay on a bull for eight seconds.” He shook his head. “I've got to have one girl who can do the job or I'm going to eliminate the women’s competition.” He looped his thumbs into his belt. “Nobody pays to see bull riders fall off.” Then he amended his words. “Yes, the fans like a good wreck or two but not the entire competition.”
Cassidy really wished Bodner would stop talking. She also wished John Risk would stop looking at her mouth. No, she wasn't going to blow his cover. She shook her head slightly, hoping that would reassure him, but it didn't. Those blue eyes were still glued to the lower half of her face. Talk about unsettling, now Kevin truly had a reason to be embarrassed by her.
And through all this, Bret Bodner was still talking. “You know a man tries to create equity for the women.” He shook his chin and his neck waddled. “Title Nine and all that. But if they can't stay on the bull and they won't wear bikinis I don't know what I'm supposed to do because I've got to make money.” He scratched his head. “I'm sure someone from the government will come along and tell me to let the women compete with the men. Damn government.”
Instead of letting Bodner’s words about his employer bother him, John smiled at Cassidy. The way he pulled his lips back was completely different from the man she used to know who wore a leather jacket and a big knife attached to his belt in L.A. A year ago Cassidy had been under the impression the muscles in the corners of John's mouth didn't work but now she could see they did. “I'm sure this is your woman,” John told Bodner. Then he reached for Cassidy's arm.
“It's all about the upper body strength,” John explained as he poked at her, his fingers close to her breast. “It seems God has blessed Ms. Cooper with a lot of upper body strength.” He squeezed her muscle again.
“It has nothing to do with God,” Cassidy argued while stepping out of his grasp. Even though John's touch was making her warm in some long neglected places, she didn't need this right now. She had her son and her bull riding. “I've been lifting weights for the last year,” she told the men. Then again, John already knew that. She had used the weight set he had in his guest bedroom on the days they weren't working.
“She's bench pressing two hundred pounds.” Kevin stopped typing long enough to join the conversation. “Twice her weight.” He shrugged. “But she can only do it once.”
Cassidy stared at her son. He actually sounded proud of her. Wow, that felt good. She dec
ided she wanted more. “I've been riding since I was six,” she announced. “I've stayed on a bull for eight seconds plenty of times.” She eyed Kevin.
But it was John who whistled between his teeth. “Six years old,” he said. He shifted back on his heels and looped his thumbs into his belt hooks just like Bret Bodner. “That's impressive.” He smiled again. “Cassidy Cooper you are one heck of a woman.” He added, “Nice T-shirt,” with a nod toward Kevin.
Cassidy turned to Kevin. He didn't look as impressed with her accomplishments as he had two minutes ago. His interest had shifted to John as he ran his hands down the front of his chest. “Yo, you watch Battlestar?” he asked the preacher.
John smiled and nodded. “Good show,” he remarked.
Kevin smiled back so hard Cassidy thought his face would crack. But wait, Cassidy had watched Firefly, she'd done her time. Hadn't she gained a little of her son's esteem? Shouldn’t she be on the receiving end of smiles like that?
She wondered how many seasons of Battlestar there were and if she could start watching tonight? She wanted to join in this conversation.
“All five seasons?” Kevin asked John, answering her first question.
“Of course,” the preacher replied. “And the old episodes too with Lorne Greene.”
Now she knew. Even if she started watching in the next five minutes it would take her at least two months to get through the entire show. Firefly was much easier, to the dismay of sci-fi fans everywhere, all they made was one season.
Damn...she was upset. John was getting much further with Kevin-bonding in two minutes, than she ever had. Curse the man, the kid was still smiling at him. This just wasn't fair.
“Who’s your favorite character?” Kevin folded his arms over his chest and shifted on his heels. Even though John had him at hello, Kevin could compete with the best interrogator the LAPD had to offer.
Cassidy held her breath waiting to see if John would pass the test.
“Kara Starbuck,” John replied not intimidated at all.
During this back and forth Bret Bodner’s head snapped between the boy and the preacher. He asked, “Is this the kind of thing a man of the cloth should be watching?”
John laughed uncomfortably. “Probably not,” he replied. “But the show has lots of religious overtones.” He rubbed his neck.
“Well, stick to your purpose here,” Bret advised as he started to walk away, then he stopped and pointed at Cassidy. He suggested to John, “Say a prayer for her.”
“Certainly,” John replied with a wink at Cassidy. “I’ll ask the Good Lord to keep her on the bull.” He smiled sheepishly at Bodner as the man walked away again.
“What the hell are you doing here dressed like that?” Cassidy whispered at John once Bret was out of ear shot and Kevin was looking at his laptop. John was so far outside his undercover comfort zone it hurt to look at him. But Bret turned back to them before the undercover cop had a chance to explain. “Preacher man,” he said, his cell phone in his ear. “Monty Harper just fell off his bull. He’s unconscious and on the way to the hospital. I want you to go there and say a prayer with his wife.”
* * * *
Most nights John Risk couldn’t sleep. Cassidy Cooper had done that to him after she left L.A. Probably it was her advice about needing to look deep inside himself and find his humanity that had him lying in bed and staring at the ceiling. Jesus H. Christ he knew she had been mad at him when he chose to sacrifice that girl to porno for the greater good of getting the gun runner. He didn’t know she was mad enough to expose his cover, get him shot and walk out of his life leaving no forwarding address. She also changed her cell number and stayed off the Internet.
After she betrayed him and disappeared, there was a hurt in his heart so deep he knew it’d never go away. To ease the pain he told himself she was a traitor, turncoat and any other word he could come up with to describe what she’d done to him, but it didn’t help. As a last resort, he took heart burn medication but that didn’t do anything either.
God damn it, it was his job to capture Lewis Trigger, break up the gang and bring all those lowlifes to justice. No matter who got in the way he had to do his job. He rolled his shoulders as he crossed the street and hiked up the steps of the hamburger joint across from the hotel. Now he had a different undercover job and he needed to do it just as well, except this one didn’t come to him as naturally.
In his hands he held fliers advertising his service on Sunday. He only had three people attend the service last Sunday. If he wanted to appear legitimate he had to step up his game. Plus Mrs. Goodwin, the registration lady, told him she only showed up because she thought he was cute, not because his words inspired her.
Yes, she hurt his ego but maybe he could work with it. The plan was to flash a few smiles at the buckle bunnies over their french fries and milk shakes and hopefully he'd have a bigger congregation. The problem was he was up against the bull riders and those guys had the women eating out of the palms of their hands. Back in the day, before he met Cassidy Cooper, John got women the same way. Now he had nobody.
Rather than throwing a pity party for himself, he pushed open the door to the hamburger joint. The place smelled of grease while the sound of laugher filled the room. He decided to not feel self-conscious. Nobody was laughing at him. Then he saw Cassidy Cooper sitting in a corner booth laughing with that Battlestar Galactic kid who had been hanging around her yesterday. The one with the laptop.
Damn, the woman had always gotten under his skin in a variety of different ways. Especially right now, because John was positive she was laughing at him. She probably knew he hadn't had sex since the day she disappeared. Yes, John could have used his contacts at the police department to track her down through personal information like a bank account but he didn't. She would be smart enough to know it was him looking for her and he kept thinking she'd come back when she was ready.
John tried to act normal. But it was tough, because ever since Cassidy had told him he was a sorry excuse for a human being, he was suddenly reflecting on his behavior a lot more. So much so, he started to second guess his actions. As a result of that, he tried reading self-help books. The books led him to religion and when the undercover assignment at the rodeo became available, he applied. There was a prescription drug ring amongst the rodeo clowns and bull riders.
Did he do it because he was hoping to run into Cassidy? Well, maybe.
He went to the table next to Cassidy's. He didn't want to seem like he was ignoring her but he wasn't ready to face her yet. He gave the blond bunnies a flier each as they looked at him skeptically. One asked, “What time does the service start?”
He told her ten.
She told him she didn't get up until noon at the earliest. He moved on.
“Hi,” John said as he stood over Cassidy's table. Jesus, he missed her and that dark wavy hair of hers. It even had hints of red. He was so sick of vacant faced blonds with empty blue eyes he wanted to puke in his boots. Instead, he nodded at the kid. Cute boy, a cousin, or even a friend's kid? John didn't know the relationship and since Cassidy was also looking at the kid like she was memorizing the peach fuzz on his face, John decided to shift his eyes and stare at her boobs. Cassidy had the best A cup he'd ever laid his hands on.
“John,” Cassidy snapped.
He'd been caught. Holy crap, he used to do that much more subtly. He moved his eyes to her face and shrugged.
“Do you want something?” she asked. She nodded toward the flier in his hands.
He fidgeted with the paper and continued to stand there. Honest to God, he used to be suave. Used to be able to tell a woman what he wanted in less than ten seconds. But then Cassidy Cooper had to go and leave him and take away all his self-confidence. The only thing she left behind was regret.
The kid smiled. “It's the Battlestar preacher man.” He looked John up and down. “I bet you were really crushing on Starbuck when you were younger.”
John shifted uncomfortably. Jesus H.
Christ who was this kid and why was Cassidy allowing him to hang around with her?
“Don't worry about it,” the urchin advised, “every guy is hot for Kara.” He continued, “Do you want to sit with us?” He pulled away the fries Cassidy was eating and shoved them over to John. “Want some?” he asked.
John sighed, took his hat off and sat down. “Sure,” he replied. “Don't mind if I do.” He toasted the kid with the fry. It was stupid but it went over well. The kid laughed. John could tell he wasn't laughing at him but with him.
Cassidy eyed John for a moment. “You know,” she told him after taking a sip of her soda, “you look really silly with your pants riding so high.” Her eyes drifted down his body.
John shrugged, trying to ignore her suggestive gesture. Yes, he used to be able to rock a pair of weathered Levi’s with rips in the knees. “It's a look,” he told her. He loved the way her brown eyes sparkled when she insulted him. “You don't have to like it,” he added so he didn't seem pathetic.
“Don't they hurt?” she asked. She reached past him and popped a french fry into her mouth, followed up with a wink.
John knew she was trying to rattle him and he probably deserved it.
“Mom,” the kid moaned. “Would you leave the guy alone?” he asked coming to John's rescue. The boy studied Cassidy for a moment. “To comment on someone’s clothes is a form of bullying.”
Mom? Did the kid just say mom? Rattled, yes John was completely rattled. Cassidy had just won hands down. John didn't know Cassidy had a kid. Especially a kid so damn old. Not that the kid was gray or ancient. But he had to be at least twelve, making Cassidy fifteen or sixteen when she gave birth.
“Okay, okay,” Cassidy raised her hands in the air. “Sorry,” she said. She blushed as she chewed on another french fry.
“Apologize to him, not to me,” the kid told her. He rolled his eyes like teenagers have done to their parents since the beginning of time.
“I'm sorry,” she said to John. She even smiled.
The Bull Rider Wears Pink Page 3
