by Debra Kayn
She snorted. “I’m a grown woman. My family accepts what I do and fully supports me. They know I’m the best. Besides, bull riding is small potatoes compared to what my dad and my sisters have accomplished.”
“And your boyfriend supports you?” The question slipped out before he could stop it, but it was no mystery why. He’d wondered about her relationship status since the first time he’d seen her, and it didn’t seem to matter how wrong she was for him.
“I don’t date. At least not during the season, anyway.” She lifted her drink and matched him gulp for gulp.
No dating? He set his mug on the table and stared at her slim neck. He leaned forward, wanting to catch the strawberry scent that had sent a jolt of desire through him when he’d walked her into the restaurant. She came across tough and sensible, yet she was soft in all the right places and dressed to accentuate all of them. That alone seemed impossible to ignore.
She tilted her head and raised her brow. “You’re staring, cowboy. I figured a big guy like you could handle more than a few swallows of beer.”
He glanced away. What was he doing, sitting here admiring her, when he planned to send them their separate ways?
He cleared his throat. “I’m—”
“Here you go. Two orders of Billy burgers and fries.” The waitress set the plates on the table. “Is there anything else I can get you both?”
He laid his hand on his stomach. “How about a couple sundaes?”
“Make that one, unless you’re planning on eating both of them.” Florentine smiled. “I’ll have the Brownie surprise. Thank you.”
“Sure thing.” The waitress grinned before walking away.
Damn, he enjoyed her spunk. He should’ve known she spoke her own mind. She hadn’t climbed the bull riding circuit letting men order her meal. He’d have to keep his distance. A couple hours in bed with her would satisfy his attraction, but he had a feeling she wasn’t a woman who played around. And he wasn’t looking for anything more than a good time.
Florentine lifted the corner of her hamburger bun, sighed with an expression of pure delight, and then grinned at him. “There’s nothing better than McDougal beef.”
“Your family supplies the restaurant?” He popped a fry in his mouth.
“Yep, and most of the United States beef industry.” She removed the lettuce, tomato, and pickle and placed the items on the edge of her plate. She lifted the hamburger and took a bite. Her eyes closed briefly, and she nodded in satisfaction. “Tastes like I’m home. The cook obviously knows the difference between a good grilled hamburger and a fried one.”
She came from money. He hid his surprise behind relief. That made all the difference. She’d have no problem financing her way through the rest of the season on her own.
Halfway through her burger, she laughed. “I have to tell you, I was nervous about going out to dinner with you. My social skills have dropped out of sight lately. I blame it on too many hours spent on the road. I was afraid I’d forget there’s no elbows allowed on the table, and get caught slipping my food to the invisible dog.”
“You can relax. We’re only eating burgers and having a beer.” Cole set his crumpled napkin on the table. “I always try to stop in and eat here when I’m in town. It’s a nice place.”
“Mm.” She patted her mouth with her napkin. “It is. It reminds me a lot of my sister’s bar. She owns Valenciennes’ Place back home in Pike.”
“Do you miss being home when you’re on the road?”
“Sure, I do. I have four sisters I’m close with, and every time I go back home it seems like one of them is getting married. In fact, I’m heading back to Pike after tomorrow’s ride. My sister Margot is marrying the town sheriff.” She laughed. “He’s really our neighbor. We had no idea they were even dating, much less in love, and the next thing we knew they’d decided to tie the knot.”
He squeezed ketchup over his fries. “So, you’ve told me why you ride bulls, but what made you get up on the back of one the first time? Why not barrel racing or team roping?”
She scooted closer to the table and pursed her lips. “I guess growing up on a ranch, it seemed natural that I looked toward the animals for fun. I’ve been on the back of bucking animals since I was old enough to climb the fence. I started out in the peewee division, riding sheep as a toddler. By the time I hit ten, I helped Daddy around the ranch breaking the horses. In high school, I discovered bulls. It’s what I do best.”
“And, here you are, the one woman who has the ability to dominate men’s pro rodeo.”
“Yep.” She pushed her fries away from her hamburger. “I plan on proving to myself and every young girl in the world that I’m good enough to ride with the best professional bull riders.”
“What will you do if you win?” he asked.
She pointed her french fry in his direction. “I’ll keep showing the bulls they can’t beat me. At least for another year, and then—” She paused, and her smile softened. “I’d love to find a way to motivate other girls. My heart will always be in the rodeo, so I’d enjoy working behind the scenes and becoming an advocate for other females who want to advance.”
“Motivating young women is admirable, but bull riding is an unforgiving sport. Do you think there are many women who want to climb on the back of a bull?” He studied her. She seemed to think what she did for a living was normal, and she was anything but normal.
She shrugged. “Trust me. You’re not the only man who thinks that way. Women enjoy the same activities men do. The problem begins when we start growing up, and everyone tells us we should follow the example of our mothers, our grandmothers, and soon we’re giving up our dreams. Women can do anything a man can.” She lifted her chin. “Sometimes better.”
He grunted. Her attitude would get her killed one day. He supported women’s rights, but bull riding was a foolish endeavor for man or woman. The sooner he convinced her to let him out of the contract, the better.
She gave him a quick look. “How about you? Any family?”
He took a sip of beer. “I have a seven-year-old daughter. Her name is Sarah.”
She rested her arms on the table and leaned back against her chair. “Is she home with your wife?”
Her perfectly manicured nails tapped the top of the table. The pale-pink paint intrigued him. He’d pictured her rough and tough.
“No. No wife. I mean, she’s passed away.” He cleared his throat. “My dad’s watching Sarah while I’m here.”
“Oh. I’m sorry.” She scooted her plate forward, but someone called her name, and she looked toward the voice.
He followed her gaze and watched a twenty-something man with an almost over-eager puppy smile approach the table. Who was this guy?
“Florentine!” He stood beside her, cracking his knuckles. “I thought that was you. I saw you ride today. Congratulations. You did great.”
She wiped her fingers on her napkin and shook his hand. “Thank you. And what’s your name?”
“Reese Hachet. I’ve been a fan of yours ever since you entered the semi-pros. Would you like to dance?” He glanced between Cole and Florentine. “After you’re finished, and then if that’s okay with you, of course. I just can’t believe my luck at finding Florentine McDougal here.”
Florentine lifted her brow at Cole and shrugged. “Give me five minutes, Reese, and I’d be happy to dance with you.”
“Great.” Reese dipped his chin and strutted away.
Silence grew between Cole and Florentine as they concentrated on eating. Between bites, Cole glanced over at the group of young men Reese had joined. They stood around the jukebox, elbowing each other. He shook his head. What was Florentine thinking? A woman alone shouldn’t put herself out there with people she didn’t know.
“Let me guess. You’re glaring over my shoulder because Reese went back to his buddies, and they’re all laughing and staring over at our table.” She wiped her mouth and leaned back in her chair.
“Are you always this f
riendly with strangers?” He set his silverware on his empty plate.
“He’s a young man. I doubt if he’s old enough to drink yet. He’s harmless.” She shrugged. “Plus, he’s a fan. The least I can do is go dance with him. I’ll even slip in how great Turner Grain is as a sponsor. Maybe you’ll gain a new customer.”
“That’s not necessary.” He pushed back his plate. “Go dance if you want.”
“I’ll be back in a minute, and then we can get down to business.” She stood and walked toward the group of high achievers.
Cole tossed his napkin on his plate and stared after her, watching the way her hips swayed. His chest tightened. She intoxicated him. She put on a good performance, acting as if her family meant a great deal to her, being attentive, and saying the right things. He rubbed his jaw. Deep down he knew she was the same type of woman Theresa had been, gung-ho and out for the thrill. He didn’t want to be responsible for endorsing risky behavior if something happened to her, and he refused to condone that type of behavior through his newest acquisition.
It was hard enough raising a child on his own, but if more people realized what kind of risk they took performing for other people’s entertainment, it would make his job easier. When he went to bed at night, he’d at least know he was doing his part by setting a good example. It only took one second for someone’s life to end. Theresa had died, and he and Sarah were left to pay the price for her decision to chase a thrill.
He reached for his beer without losing sight of Florentine. Where the hell were her family members? A single woman living among a bunch of cowboys needed someone around to help her if a situation arose. She had no one to watch her back, but he’d be damned if she got in trouble tonight when he’d brought her here. Hell, practically every man under the age of eighty watched the way she wiggled her pert little ass.
Once he convinced her to let him out of the contract, he could walk away. He’d hoped to let the natural order of competition eliminate her for the season. That hadn’t happened. It was his dumb luck she’d be the one woman who’d make it to the championship.
He had a real challenge ahead of him. She had her goals branded in her head and seemed stubborn enough to make it difficult for him to change her mind. It was going to cost him a hell of a lot of money to buy his way out of the contract.
Florentine leaned back with her arms wrapped around Reese’s neck and laughed at something he said. Cole harrumphed and crossed his arms over his chest. That free spirit of hers would get her in trouble before the night ended. She didn’t know what kind of power she had over those men.
He’d been young and blinded once, too. Theresa had seduced him with her unabashed thrill of living, but her risky behavior cost Sarah a mom. For his daughter’s sake, he wanted a more mature and stable relationship the next time he decided to take a chance on love.
“Uh oh. Looks like you’ve lost your date, cowboy.” The waitress set the heaping bowl of ice cream in front of him.
Cole forced a smile. “She’s a business associate.”
She slid the bill onto the table. “Go ahead and pay whenever you’re ready. No hurry.”
“Thank you.” He turned back to watch Florentine.
The song ended, and the group of men who’d self-consciously bided their time until the dance ended surrounded her. She seemed right at home with all the attention, and unconcerned that the men were bigger and stronger, and that they outnumbered her. The crowd blocked his view. He stood up. Hell, he didn’t need to put off his business with her any longer. The quicker he talked with her, the sooner he could go back to the ranch and forget about Florentine McDougal.
Halfway to her, his phone vibrated in his pocket. He grabbed it and looked at the screen. I miss u dad.
He smiled and typed. I love u. I’ll be home tomorrow.
Sarah meant everything to him. His sole purpose in life was to supply her with love, security, and safety. Barely a day went by that she stayed out of mischief, and she kept him on his toes.
He gazed back at the spot he expected to find Florentine before his daughter’s message interrupted him, but she was gone. His heart raced. She’d left the dance floor. Shit. Where had she gone?
Anxious to find her and take her back to the table, he slipped the phone in his back pocket and weaved his way through the crowd. The men stood their ground, not giving him an inch. A head taller than everyone, he could see Florentine trying to work her way around the barrier and failing miserably.
“Excuse me.” He stepped between two of the men.
A blonde kid, who still struggled to grow fuzz on his chin cut in front of Cole. “Florentine, will you dance with me next?”
Florentine turned. “I’m about tuckered out.” She spotted Cole and smiled. “Besides, I’m here with my—”
“Date.” Cole held out his hand. “She promised me the last one of the evening. If you all will excuse us.”
He avoided her gaze and led her a few feet away from her fans before pulling her into his embrace. “Don’t read anything into that statement. It looked like you needed saving, that’s all.”
She stood in front of him, grinning. “Are you flirting with me, cowboy?”
“Do you want me to flirt?” He pulled her closer.
She tilted her head, seeming to study him. “It’s probably a bad idea with you being my sponsor, and me riding the circuit.”
“I agree.” He swept a curl off her forehead.
“I also have a rule about men and the circuit.”
“So you’ve said.”
He could’ve led her back to the table, but no. He needed to keep the upper hand tonight, show her who was in control. It was a business deal, plain and simple. He could negotiate million dollar contracts while pulling his boots on every morning. She was one woman.
A woman who knew how to dance. I’m an idiot.
She snorted. “If you’re going to flirt with me, you’ll have to do better than riding to my rescue to get my attention. I haven’t needed any help getting away from men since I was fourteen and broke Luke Caldwell’s nose. He confused me with Chantilly and kissed me.”
“One of your sisters?”
“My twin.” She curled her arms around his neck. “Identical. She runs the McDougal ranch with her husband, Jack.”
He peered down at her. “Have you ever thought of having a body guard when you go out in public?”
“Are you kidding me?” She shook her head. “I’m a bull rider.”
“Yeah, but you’re half my size.”
“So?”
She fit against him perfectly. Her head reached the top of his chest and if he wanted, he could tuck her right under his chin. His hand spanned her back, and his body hardened at the way she swayed against him. He moved his hand up under her hair to get away from her backside. His breath hitched when her curls twined through his fingers, holding him captive. The sweet strawberry aroma definitely came from the shampoo she used. He caught himself before he lowered his head and stole a guilty pleasure.
Instead, he inhaled through his nose. “I’m only saying it would probably be safer for you if you had someone watching out for you. At least while you’re on the circuit.”
“I do fine on my own, cowboy.” She turned her head and ignored him.
The warmth from her body felt better than he expected, and he pulled her closer. He leaned down and whispered, “There were five of them. It’s a little different situation. You shouldn’t walk away with people you don’t know.”
She tilted her head back, and he could barely see her blue eyes between her lashes. “You’re my sponsor, not my daddy. I don’t need any man rushing in to play hero, especially you.”
He froze, and then let go of her. It wasn’t the first time someone had thrown those words at him. He motioned her to the table. “Let’s go sit down.”
She marched ahead of him, and he lengthened his stride to pull out her chair. She shook her head in annoyance, but he wasn’t going to stop being a gentleman becaus
e it pissed her off.
“Dessert came while you were dancing.” He sat down across from her.
She scooped up a bite, stuck the spoon in her mouth and moaned, closing her eyes. He dropped down in the chair, and coughed. Shit. He needed to get out of here.
“Florentine.” His voice came out husky even to his own ears.
She gazed across the table. Every part of him screamed Stop! Wrong direction! Talk about the contract!
“Cole.” She set down her spoon. “I—”
He held up his finger, silencing her. “Let me go first.”
She sighed, but nodded.
“I asked to talk with you because I’d like to buy my way out of our contract.”
“Oh?” She sat back and put her hands in her lap.
“I’ve had my lawyer look over the papers, and it’s a secure, well-explained document.” He rubbed the handle of the spoon. “I understand that I’m contracted to sponsor you for the rest of the season, but I can’t in good conscience back your desire to get yourself killed.”
She froze with her perfectly arched brows elevated, her eyes blinking, and not saying a word. He waited. The news shocked her. He had no idea what she expected him to say, and he could tell he’d taken her by surprise.
“I’m hoping we can work this out ourselves and come to an agreement tonight. I’ve got the paperwork in the truck.” He set his elbows on the table and steepled his fingers. “The sooner, the better.”
Seconds ticked by, and she stared him down. He refused to be intimidated. This was business. Most bull riders had several sponsors. She could pick any number of backers.
“No,” she whispered.
“I understand it’s not a normal contract, and that’ll make it harder for me. If you’ll—”
She stood up so fast her chair tipped over. She leaned across the table and braced her hands on the surface. When she spoke, her voice was calm, yet the fierceness grabbed him by the front of the shirt. “I’m not a fool. I know what’s in that contract. My daddy made sure my sponsor had no way to back out without my permission. There’s no wiggle room. Daddy’s lawyer drew up the contract to make sure you were responsible for everything from my housing, medical care, down to my winnings. Turner Grain gets exposure all season, and your predecessor was banking on the press I’ll get when I win the championship. That contract is fair, and it’s unbreakable. If you try to withdraw your sponsorship, I’ll see you in court. That’s a promise.”
