Rodeo Dreams

by Sarah M. Anderson

  “Alone again, ain’t you?” Red didn’t wait for the confirmation. He collapsed in a heap and looked under the table, and then crawled on his hands and knees up into the bedroom. His stinking body took up the whole damn aisle. While his back was turned, June hurried out of the bathroom. Dressed and barefoot, she slipped behind him without a noise. Her hand stroked his cheek as she passed him. Then she was out the door.

  Just like that, she was gone.

  “I knew you would be,” Red was saying. “You always are—you gotta hear about my night!”

  Yes, Travis usually was—but not tonight. What would have happened if Red had seen June? The weighty possibilities hit him with enough force that he barely got his butt over to the table before his knees gave.

  “Did you see them girls I took home?” Satisfied that the camper was empty, Red stumbled to his feet. He was weaving around the place so much that Travis had to keep shoving him just to keep him from slamming into him. “I knew that twins were something, but ooowhee! I didn’t have no idea that kissing cousins could kiss like that!”

  “Sounds like fun, Red.” So much fun, in fact, that Red was missing his belt—and his buckle. “How much did you drink?”

  “Pbbbbbt!” He sounded like a motorboat—one with a loose gasket. “Who could keep count? I was seeing double with those cousins—the brunette! Lord Almighty! I didn’t even know a girl could do that!”

  Travis didn’t want to know what that was. He didn’t want images of Red screwing nameless, faceless cousins to erase the sweet memory of June making love to him.

  At least, he was pretty sure she’d made love to him.

  Doubt began to build again, all because he was having a hard time telling the real from the unreal. After all, Red pantomiming sex acts in his camper at 4:22 wasn’t exactly standard stuff, either.

  That’s when he saw the condom wrapper on the ground.

  That was a good sign, but not one he wanted Red to see. Moving quickly, Travis stepped on the wrapper. Yup, it felt real, the corner point digging into his sole.

  June. His June. If she was with Mitch as a cover, then Travis was a lot more than just cover.

  Unless, an evil voice that sounded like Barb’s whispered in his ear. Unless she was only riding the next bull rider that stood between her and the bigs. Unless she was faking it.

  Unless she was working him.

  “Then she did this thing with her thumb...” Red was trying to demonstrate, but he looked like he was about to hurt himself in a very personal area.

  “That’s great, Red, really,” Travis said, hauling Red up and checking his pants. His wallet was still there. “Time for you to go back to your truck and sleep it off, okay?” He felt like that was what he needed to do, too—sleep off this confusion that was spinning his head around until he was dizzy and pray that things made more sense in the morning.

  “I know you’re jealous of the women I can get and you can’t!” Red took a wobbly step back and began to unbutton his pants. “Bet my dick’s bigger, too!”

  Oh, hell— “Red, no—”

  There was no reasoning with him at this point. “Betcha twenty dollars mine’s bigger!” he said as he began to pull down his britches. “Come on, Younkin! What kind of man are you?”

  “The good kind.” He reared back and clocked Red on the chin. That was all it took. Red’s eyes fluttered one last time as he neatly spun and collapsed onto Travis’s floor, snoring already.

  “Crap,” Travis mumbled to himself.

  June gone, with only a condom wrapper to prove she’d been here, and Red stinking up his place instead.

  Not how he’d wanted to wake up.

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  SOMETHING WET HIT her in the face. Smelled like fish. Gross.

  June opened her eyes and found herself face to nose with Jeff. He was halfway to another slimy lick when she got a hand up. “Ugh,” she groaned as the dog-breath smacked her again. “What’s up, pup?”

  The slobbery lick he bestowed on her nose answered the question better than words ever could.

  “Okay. Yes. You need to go for a run.” June tried to sit up, but her arms weren’t as awake as her brain. The grit in her eyes felt permanent, and her face felt like the wind had rubbed her raw.

  No, she remembered with a smile. Not the wind. Travis.

  She could still smell the hint of Old Spice in her hair, still taste his lust on her lips. And when she closed her eyes over the grit, she could still see the satisfaction on his face.

  She could still feel the orgasm he’d unleashed upon her body, the orgasm that had started at her toes and worked its way north at twister speed. For so long, she’d thought the high from a good bull ride was better than the best sex. Turns out, she just hadn’t been having very good sex.

  That was all going to change. The thought of going back to his cramped little camper tonight and exploring the map of his skin set her heart fluttering.

  But that was later. She had more pressing needs right now.

  “Can I have a shower first?”

  Jeff’s tail thumped plaintively against the paisley carpet. With a yawn, he flopped down, ever the patient coydog.

  “Thanks, pup. I’ll make it up to you.”

  The hot water dampened some of her ecstasy, though. Getting to tonight was going to be complicated. Red—what the hell had been up with that? Mitch was going to be all over her like flies on a cow patty about last night, and she hadn’t gotten the chance to set down any ground rules with Travis before...

  Was she going to have to tell him about Mitch and Paulo? Or would they be able to avoid that? She wasn’t sure quite how they would, though. Travis might have accepted the working partners explanation last night, but sooner or later, he was bound to ask why. And the why was the tricky part.

  It was going to be a long day.

  Surprisingly, her ankle felt good this morning. As she shaved her legs, she couldn’t see any sign of the swelling, and it didn’t hurt when she bent it. She didn’t just feel better, she felt whole.

  As she was rinsing her hair, the bathroom door banged open. “June?”

  She jumped. “What?”

  “Yeah, she’s here.”

  “Dang it, Mitch!” She needed a portable dead bolt for her bathroom doors—guys were always barging in on her.

  “She’s in the shower.”

  “Who is it?” she demanded, shutting the water off, although she had a pretty good idea.

  “Travis, I mean, honestly.” Mitch was having way too much fun with her man. “I think she just got up. You can’t keep her out all hours of the night, you know. Not good for our June.”

  June swore she could hear Travis’s growl through the phone. She whipped the shower curtain back.

  “Whoa! Travis! You are one lucky man! June, honey, put some clothes on!”

  “Get out.” She snatched a towel with one hand and her cell phone with the other. “Like now.”

  Some days, she was so tired of that wink. And it was only ten in the morning. “Hello?”

  “What’s Mitch Jenner doing in your shower?”

  And good morning to you, too, she thought, but instead said, “Being a royal pain in the butt.”

  “Travis and June, sitting in a tree...” Mitch sang loudly. And off-key.

  “Get!” she yelled, finally shutting the door. But he was still out there, probably dancing with her dog.

  “That’s it. I’m coming over.”

  “No! Travis, no!” Not before she’d brushed her teeth, not in the middle of the morning, not with everyone else getting up and out of their rooms. People would think she was sleeping her way up the food chain or...

  She didn’t want to give up Mitch’s secrets. But she didn’t want everyone to assume she was hopping from
bed to bed, either. There had to be a happy medium. Somewhere.

  “Give me one good reason why not,” he snarled again.

  Oh, she had a reason, but she hadn’t even had breakfast yet, and the phone was not the place for this conversation. “Travis, calm down. You need to take it easy. This is just one of those things—”

  “One of those things?” He sounded like she’d hauled off and hit him.

  “I thought Mitch explained that there was nothing between me and him...” she said.

  “June, sweetheart. This wasn’t a one-night stand for me. Don’t say that’s all it was for you.”

  Oh, for Pete’s sake. They were going to need a lot of ground rules. “Travis, would you calm down? I’ve only been awake for twenty minutes, Mitch barged in on me in the shower and you’re acting like I’m going to dump you when I’ve been figuring out the best way to sneak off with you tonight and pick up where we left off. Just give me a minute!”

  The click was so loud that, for a second, she couldn’t tell if he’d swallowed or if he’d hung up on her. “Are you still there?”

  “Yeah, uh, just giving you a minute,” he said. This time, she heard the smile. “Let me know when it’s up.”

  “Where are you? Can I call you back after I get dressed?”

  “Are you sure I shouldn’t come over?”

  “Easy, sugar,” she teased, feeling like a teenager again.

  “I’ve got to do my time at True West today,” he said, his voice shifting down to smoldering. “But I’d like to see you tonight. Something about picking up where we left off?”

  No, she wasn’t sure she’d ever felt like this when she was a teenager. Tony had been a sweet boy and all, but he’d never set her afire like this man could with just a few words. “I believe we’ll all be at a rodeo together.”

  “I meant after.”

  “I think that can be arranged. But, listen. You’ve got to play this straight—for a while, anyway, okay? Hands off in public.”

  After a long pause that had June wondering if he’d misunderstood her again, he said in all seriousness, “You can’t tell me Mitch is better cover than I am.”

  “It’s more complicated than that,” she replied, peeking out of the bathroom. Mitch was sprawled out on her bed with his boots still on, watching infomercials with Jeff. “I need to get some things cleared up before tonight, okay? We’ll work on getting it right, I promise. I just need a little time.”

  “How much time? I don’t want to waste another minute I don’t have to, sweetheart.”

  Her insides went all gooey. Mitch glanced up, saw what had to be a goofy grin on her face and gave her the thumbs-up.

  How much time would it take to unravel the lies she’d been living with for almost three months? After tonight, they were headed to Rapid City. She’d planned on Mom coming up to get her so she could spend the week sleeping in her own bed. But now?

  “Not much,” she said, hoping it was the truth. “I just don’t want it to look like I’m hopping from Mitch’s bed to yours. You understand that, don’t you?”

  He was silent for what felt like a beat too long. He could see how that would look bad—couldn’t he? She didn’t want people thinking she was sleeping her way up the ladder. “I’ll figure it out,” she said. “Promise me you’ll play it cool today, babe. Please.”

  He sighed heavily. “I’ll do my best.”

  That didn’t sound optimistic, but she would have to take it. “I’ll see you tonight?”

  “I’ll be waiting for you.”

  Had sweeter words ever hit her ears? “I’m counting on it.”

  “Sounds like it went well,” Mitch said, smiling. “Have a good night?”

  She knew this was coming, but that didn’t make it any easier to stomach. “Fine. And don’t mind me while I get dressed in my own room.”

  His grin got bigger. “Oh, you’re cute when you’re feisty. Is that what he likes?”

  She threw on a clean top and poked her head into their room. Paulo was sitting at the hotel desk with her computer. He’d taken to borrowing it to send email back home. “I’m sorry, hon, but I’m going to strangle him later.”

  Paulo said nothing but he gave her a hell of a look. Right. She’d have to get through a Brazilian first.

  “Stop talking sweet and cut to the chase.” Mitch snapped off the TV and finally got his boots off her bed. “What else did you two talk about?”

  “His scars, okay? We didn’t waste any time on you, darling.”

  “He showed you his scars?” Mitch whistled long and low. Seconds later, Paulo stood in the doorway, looking impressed. “What did they look like?”

  “Do I really look like the kind of girl who kisses and tells?”

  “We could talk about your sexual preferences...”

  “You are so dead, Mitch,” she replied as she ran the comb through her hair. “I’m going to send flowers to your mother to mark the occasion.”

  “So, what are you going to do now? What are we going to do now?”

  “I don’t know,” she answered truthfully. It would be so nice to get through this without anyone impinging her virtue or outing Mitch and Paulo as a couple.

  “Well,” Mitch said after a long look at Paulo, “I guess we’ll see what happens.”

  * * *

  “PLAYING IT COOL” proved to be harder than Travis thought. The moment that Bronco parked, he fought the urge to keep everyone away from his June by whatever means necessary.

  It got a whole lot harder when Mitch offered her a hand out of the Bronco and then kept on holding. This was wrong on so many levels. His woman was holding another man’s hand in public. Was this what she meant by giving her some time?

  Maybe he looked like he had murder on his mind because Mitch called out, “Keeping cool over there, Travis?”

  Right. Cool.

  “How was True West today?” Oh, June might be holding Mitch’s hand, but her eyes reached out and wrapped themselves around him just as surely as if her arms had.

  “I’m not going to stand around and listen to you two gossip about shopping,” Mitch grumbled. Then he winked at Travis, the same wink he always gave to June before she rode. “I’ve got to check on my draw. Want me to get yours, too, Girlie?”

  “Sure thing, hon,” she said, and Mitch was gone, with the Brazilian trailing after him. Finally, they were alone. In a crowd of bull riders and bulls. “So,” she said, her voice softer now as she smiled shyly at him, “how was your day?”

  What an idiot he’d been this morning. All he’d heard was “Mitch,” “June” and “shower,” and then when she’d said, “Travis, look,” all he’d heard was, Look, you’re a nice guy, it’s not you, it’s me, and thanks for the ride! But now with her cheeks a pretty shade of pink and that smile she didn’t give to anyone else—not even Mitch—well, he saw what he needed to see.

  His June.

  Fighting the urge to touch her was taking a lot of effort, though, and his arm began to throb. That bull he’d drawn—Red Rover—was a kicker, and he needed to be loose if he had a prayer of making the buzzer. “It went okay.”

  Her eyes slid down from his face to his arm and back up. Yeah, she knew exactly what the problem was—because she knew him. That sensation of living again coursed through his veins. He didn’t have to pretend he didn’t hurt with her because just being near her was the best painkiller he’d ever had. And it only got better when she said, “Is there anything I can do to help you relax?”

  Now there was a list a half mile long that started with lips and ended with toes. But he was playing it cool. “Nothing you could do right here,” he replied, cracking a smile as she giggled.

  As quickly as the giggle appeared, it was gone, replaced with a look that was supposed to be stern but was really just cute.
“Take it easy there, cowboy.”

  She turned, but he couldn’t play it cool enough to let her walk away. “Can I still work your ropes?”

  She pivoted back to him and ran her tongue over her lips. Jesus, how would he even make it to tonight? “Travis, I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

  Then she walked over to her boyfriend.

  He could touch her ropes, but not her.

  It was going to be a long night.

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  THIS WAS SOME form of torture, sitting here in this bar, close enough to June that he could see her watching him out of the corner of her eye while Mitch kept one arm draped around her. If this was playing it cool, then Hell must be ice-cold.

  Give her time, he thought as Mitch kept up a running monologue of bad jokes and worse innuendos. Travis guessed they looked normal enough—after all, they had been hanging out in bars like this for a while. But that Brazilian wasn’t talking, June was only half listening and Travis didn’t give a rat’s behind. He just wanted to get his girl and go.

  Normally, he loved this bar. Travis had been coming here for years now. Nothing had changed—not the dollar bills stapled to the ceiling, the jukebox playing the hits of 1985 on constant rotation or the bartender scowling at the crowd. But he’d give anything to be anywhere but here.

  Finally, his desperation got the better of him. “It was a pretty landing tonight for the short go,” he said, cutting Mitch off in mid–punch line.

  June beamed at him from over her glass. “You liked it?” Then the tip of her boot brushed up against his calf.

  Her 93 had bumped him right out of the top spot. He didn’t want to lose to her, but to see those legs hit the ground without a single wobble or wince of pain? A thing of beauty.

  “It was beautiful.”

  “Jeez, you two are gonna make us listen to this sap?” Mitch muttered to no one in particular. “Gag me.”

  “Someone talking to you, Jenner?”

  “Let me get this straight,” Mitch went on like Travis had been, in fact, talking to him. “Red barged into your camper at 4:20 this morning, drunker than a skunk, and managed to miss June fleeing the scene?” Mitch shook his head in disbelief, just like he’d been doing all night. Travis preferred the lousy jokes.