Austin (American Extreme Bull Riders Tour Book 7)

by Jeannie Watt

  Another step and his leg felt as if it was going to explode right then and there.

  He wouldn’t give in to the pain. Another step. Another.

  Out the gate and on past the guys who clapped him on the shoulder, toward the medical room at the other end of the long concrete hallway. A medic who’d been at the chutes caught up with him, put a hand under his elbow, helping ease the burden on his sore leg.

  “How bad?”

  “You tell me. I just hope you don’t have to cut the boot off. It’s new.”

  *

  So this was what it felt like to have one’s stomach turned inside out—and have it stay that way.

  Austin had walked out of the arena after the bull had trod on his leg, but it had been all Kristen had been able to do to stay in her seat during the remainder of the event. She’d tried to bluff her way to the contestants’ area, only to be stopped by security, who were taxed with the job of keeping the groupies at bay until the bull riders appeared to sign autographs. She went back to her seat not knowing whether Austin was behind the chutes supporting his friends, or if he was in an ambulance, heading for the nearest medical center.

  This is what he does. This is what all these guys do.

  And, judging by Braden Crawford, it was devastating to them when they could no longer ride bulls competitively. A different breed, these bull riders. She couldn’t imagine embracing the unknown on a weekly basis, taking a chance at ending her career each and every time she went to work.

  Kind of made getting laid off look boring.

  After the performance ended and Kelly Kincaid, a bull rider who had just made his way up from the minors into the American Extreme Bull Riders Tour, was named the winner, Kristen headed for the exit where she was supposed to meet Austin. This time the security pass worked and she made her way along a concrete corridor. Austin came out of a set of metal double doors as she approached, dressed in gray sweatpants and a long-sleeved T-shirt, his leg strapped into a protective boot.

  “Precautionary,” he told her. “To stabilize it until I get to the hotel.”

  “Then you can take it off?”

  “I’m going to.” He gave her a smile that didn’t quite hit his eyes. “How’re you doing?”

  “Me?” He was asking about her after he’d been stomped on by a bull?

  “Yeah.”

  Her first instinct was to put on her cool unperturbed face and pretend she was doing just fine with his near-death experience. Her second was to tell him that it had scared the crap out of her. She chose the middle ground. “Working my way through it.”

  “I can’t drive. They gave me a painkiller. It’s starting to take hold.”

  Kristen took the keys from him, and then reached for the bag he was carrying.

  “I’m not helpless.”

  “Do you have to do the autograph thing?” Kristen asked as if he hadn’t spoken.

  “Not while I’m under the influence.”

  “Let’s go home.” A bittersweet feeling settled over her as they walked to the parking lot. After tonight, there was no more ‘home’ for the two of them. Home was a pretend place. A hotel room where they could hide from the world and real life.

  She was going to miss it. Miss him.

  How had she come to feel a deep connection to this guy with whom she had so little in common?

  Opposites attract.

  Yes, but attraction wasn’t the problem. It never had been. It was living at opposite ends of the personal and professional risk spectrums that created issues…but after tonight, she wondered if she was as far on the safe end of the spectrum as she’d once believed. It had terrified her to see Austin get hurt, but while sitting next to the other bull riders’ families, she’d heard equal parts analysis, cheering and praying. They’d worked out a system to handle the stress, and if she needed to, so could she—and it didn’t need to apply only to bull riding.

  *

  Kristen navigated the post-event traffic like a pro and got them back to the hotel, where they surrendered the truck to a valet. Austin beat Kristen to his bag and stubbornly hefted it out of the back seat before opening the door and stepping out onto the asphalt with his good leg. Pain shot through him as his left leg hit the ground, but he could bear weight, which was a good sign. The doc hadn’t been able to tell him much, and he’d been ordered to get an X-ray in Marietta to see exactly what the damage was.

  Austin wasn’t keen to do that. Didn’t want a potential fracture to get in the way of finishing the season. If he could walk…well, he was okay.

  Kristen was all business as she ushered him to the room, and even though the pain meds were making him foggy, he found it a turn-on. He did love it when his ice princess showed up. She unlocked the door and stepped back so that he could enter first. Once the door was closed, she eased past him to place his bag on the desk and to drop her purse beside it.

  He sat on the edge of the bed and started unfastening the pseudo-cast on his injured leg while Kristen disappeared into the bathroom. She came out a short time later wearing the T-shirt and plaid shorts that had been her sleep outfit until two nights ago.

  He’d call that a signal. She flipped back the covers of her bed and sat on the edge.

  “Need any help with anything?”

  “Yeah. My boot.” As in singular.

  “Sure.” She came to the side of the bed where he sat and gingerly eased the orphaned Tony Lama off his foot. “What happened to the other one?”

  “Cut down the side and sitting in the trash can at the arena.”

  “That’s too bad.” She helped him peel off the sock then grimaced and he took a look. Yep. Black as hell.

  “Is it broken?”

  “I don’t think so.”

  “What about your ankle?”

  “I don’t think so.”

  “Are you sure?”

  He gave her a look. “The problem seems to be the place where the bull stepped on my leg.”

  He sounded snarky, so he drew in a breath. Closed his eyes and tried to center. This was why he was no fan of pain meds. They made him cranky. Edgy. Obnoxious. Not his normal state of being. When he opened his eyes again, he found Kristen smiling at him, as if she knew exactly what was going on with him. She shook her head and went back to her bed.

  As soon as he’d stripped to his boxers, he got into bed, then decided what the hell. He liked sleeping commando, and just because Kristen was back in pajamas, it didn’t mean he had to follow suit. He got his shorts down over his injured leg, kicked them to the end of the bed, then settled in.

  And there he lay.

  He had two weeks to get back into fighting shape before the tour started again in Portland. If he had to be injured, this was the time. Yes, it was.

  He might not make it to the exhibition he’d agreed to in Pendleton, Oregon, during the hiatus, but he would make Portland, Spokane, Nampa… He’d make all the events right up to Championships. He’d ridden with worse injuries, but the problem was that compensating for one injury could lead to another.

  So be it.

  Part of the game.

  He shifted his hips, tried to get more comfortable.

  “Shouldn’t you elevate that foot?” Kristen’s voice came through the darkness.

  “Probably.” Definitely. Why hadn’t he done that?

  Foggy brain.

  “Kris?”

  “What?”

  “Why are you over there?”

  He glanced over his shoulder at her, saw that she was propped up on one elbow, staring at him through the semi-darkness. “So I don’t hurt you.” She spoke as if it were patently obvious why she was a good six feet away from where he wanted her to be.

  He closed his eyes, drew in a breath. “I think you should come over here and risk hurting me.”

  “Austin…”

  “It’ll help me sleep.”

  She didn’t answer, but a long moment later, he heard her push back the covers and get out of her bed. “I’m keeping my T-
shirt and shorts on.”

  “Fine.”

  “And elevating your foot.”

  “I’d appreciate that.” He rolled onto his back.

  She retrieved a sofa cushion and pulled back the sheet to gently settle his foot on it. Then she got into bed and settled about two feet away from him. He reached out to pull her closer to him.

  “Just don’t jar anything and I’ll be fine.”

  “I don’t know how bull riders’ wives handle this,” she murmured as she snuggled closer to him. She curved her hands over his shoulder, one on top of the other, and settled her head on his pillow. Their lower bodies were separated by several inches.

  “I guess they adapt to circumstances.”

  “Guess so.” Her breath feathered over him as she spoke and even through the pain meds had half-numbed him, it felt good. “I’m afraid to move,” she said.

  “I like having you here. It’s our last night… I didn’t want to spend it alone.

  Chapter Eleven

  Austin would have driven the seven hours north from Salt Lake City to Marietta if Kristen had let him. She wasn’t about to allow that, so when he headed to the driver’s side of the truck the next morning, she bluntly told him that he was the passenger. He didn’t argue about the driving, but he refused to take another pain pill. Kristen wasn’t going to force any kind of a drug on anyone, but she hated seeing him hurting.

  Hated seeing anyone hurting, she qualified, doing her best to convince herself that what she felt for Austin was the same as what she’d feel for any injured person; but it wasn’t. How could it be, after what they’d shared over the past several days?

  She would never be the same. That was a given. Her time with Austin had continued what losing her job had started—hammering home the lesson that when life got messy, she didn’t need to religiously follow the carved-in-stone path that she’d chosen at the age of eighteen—or to feel bad when she couldn’t follow the path. Side trips were legal—and sometimes they were forced upon you. She’d served drinks in costume and hitched a ride with a bull rider. She’d survived and she’d grown. And she’d had awesome sex.

  Glancing sideways, she saw that Austin’s eyes were closed and his features relaxed. Finally. Every time she’d woken the night before, he’d been staring at the ceiling. He’d fallen asleep just before daylight, so she’d slipped out of bed and started dressing, hoping to slip out for coffee without disturbing him, but he woke up before she could leave. And, somehow, she’d resisted the temptation to crawl back into bed with him.

  She was going to miss him, but the thing about side trips was that they had to end before they went sour. She and Austin were no longer in their insulated Salt Lake City hotel-room world. Things would be different in Marietta, and, as she saw it, she and Austin were ending on the perfect note at the perfect time.

  He slept for most of the trip home, occasionally shifting and screwing his face up in pain, but not waking. These bull riders were a tough lot. Kristen kept her focus on the road, except when she looked at him, drinking her fill while she could. Austin pushed himself upright with a painful grimace when she pulled up in front of the house she owned with her sister. Her haven until she found another job.

  “We’re here,” he said, blinking.

  “We are.” At the place where they would go their separate ways. She smiled a little. “Part of me doesn’t want to return to reality.”

  “It’s always that way after a vacation.” He met her eyes. “I’m not sure what to say now.” She solved the problem by leaning over the console and sliding her hand around the back of his neck, pulling herself close enough to kiss him. Hard. He answered her kiss, his hand coming up to cup her cheek.

  When she leaned back, he smiled and her heart did an odd double beat. “I know what to say…thank you for helping me break free for a little while.”

  “Any time.” His smile held a mixture of acceptance and regret. “Good luck with the job search.”

  The screen door of her house banged and Kristen looked over her shoulder to see Whitney coming down the porch steps.

  “Thank you.” There was so much more she could say—all the many things she’d silently philosophized about as she drove, but Kristen wasn’t going to try to put anything into words. They understood each other and that was enough. “Are you sure you can drive to the ranch?”

  He snorted dismissively and reached for his door handle. Question answered.

  Austin limped to the driver’s side of the truck as Kristen got out. “Hey, stranger,” he said as Whitney reached the gate.

  “Austin.” She lifted her eyebrows at his pronounced limp. “How’re you doing?”

  “No complaints.”

  “Will we see you at FlintWorks before you head out again?”

  He rubbed a hand over the back of his neck. “More likely I’ll be at Grey’s…no offense.”

  “Yeah. I know. You’re a traditionalist.”

  “Old habits die hard.” Austin got into the truck, gave the twins one last smile, then put the vehicle in gear and pulled away from the curb.

  And that’s that. Kristen let out a breath, doing her best to ignore the heavy, melancholy feeling that settled over her as she turned to her sister, who was regarding her curiously.

  “I’m gearing up to face the music. How are the folks?”

  “The folks are looking forward to seeing you. Dad got called into the ER to cover for Dr. Gallagher, so you won’t see him until tomorrow morning.” Whitney shot a look toward Austin’s truck as it disappeared around the corner. “So…you two?”

  Whitney was never one to be sidetracked for long, but Kristen gave it a stab. “Let me deal with Mom and Dad and then we can have a nice long talk.”

  And maybe after dealing with her parents, it would easier to talk about Austin. In a few days, she’d have her bearings, feel more herself. Be back in control. And maybe, if she was lucky, the memories of their time in Salt Lake City would start to fade.

  *

  Austin drove south on Highway 89 to the Forty-Six Ranch, the place his brother called home. The truck seemed empty without Kristen, but he figured the feeling would pass. They’re shared some intense moments over the past several days, and he could be forgiven for suffering from withdrawals. Never in his wildest thoughts would he have guessed that he and Kris could bring out so much in one another.

  She was right—it was hard to ease back into real life. But ease he must. He had a leg to heal and a tour to win.

  When he parked next to the barn, Les Connor, his sister-in-law’s grandfather, came out the door and approached the truck. “You’ll be staying in the house,” he announced in a no-nonsense voice.

  “Good to know.”

  “Can you walk that far?”

  Austin narrowed his eyes at the older man. “What makes you think I can’t?”

  “Eighteen-hundred pounds of bull treading upon you.”

  “Watched the tour?”

  “Every televised event.”

  That would be all of them.

  “Are you on painkillers?” Les asked with a lift of his thick gray eyebrows.

  “Nope.”

  He jerked his head toward the house. “Then let’s go have a beer while we wait for Ty and Shelby to get back from checking the fence.”

  “I could use one.” Austin slid out of the truck, taking care as he stepped down to the ground. He’d put on the stabilizing boot again for good measure, but as long as he was careful, he could support some weight on the leg, which meant he probably wasn’t going to have that X-ray.

  When Ty and Shelby got home, he kissed his sister-in-law, man-hugged his brother and then settled in on the porch for the questioning. It was unusually warm for the last day in April, so Ty gave Austin and Les their second beers of the day, and set his own beer and a bottled water on the table between the two unoccupied chairs. He disappeared into the house, then came back a few seconds later. “Shelby will join us in a few minutes. She said we could commence br
other talk without her.”

  Austin smiled and opened his beer.

  “How’s Dad handling the injury?”

  “Didn’t answer when he called.” Austin only answered every second or third call. His dad didn’t hold a grudge about it. He just kept trying.

  “Probably wise.”

  “He’s used to it.” Austin was much better than his brother had been at handling their father’s tendency to try to manage them. He’d learned by watching. “I’ll call him in a couple of days. I did send him a text telling him I was fine and not to worry.”

  “Did he try to get you a documentary?” Austin gave his brother a speaking look and Ty laughed. “It’s not that bad, actually.”

  “And the chances of two guys in one family landing documentaries…”

  Ty laughed again. “I know. But you can’t blame the old man for trying.”

  “Or me for dodging him when he gets set on this kind of stuff.”

  “I hear ya.”

  Austin gave his brother a frown. He was a different guy since hooking up with Shelby. Not only happier…he was mellower. And he now seemed fine about his career being over.

  Shelby came out onto the porch then, her hand lingering over her midsection in a way that caught Austin’s attention before she sat down next to Ty, who handed her the water. Once again her hand settled on her belly and Austin sent his brother a look.

  Ty gave a solemn nod, then put his fingers to his lips.

  Son of a bitch. He was going to be an uncle. No wonder Ty was okay with his career ending. He was about to embark on another. Austin gave a quick nod and focused back on his beer. He should have suspected when Ty got Shelby bottled mineral water without asking her what she wanted to drink.

  Austin looked up again and gestured toward Les with his chin and Ty shook his head.

  Okay. Just the three of them were in on the secret.

  He wanted to tell someone. He wanted to tell Kristen.

  Not going to happen. Over. Done. Fun while it lasted.

  It was going to take a few days for his inner self to get it through his inner head, but facts were facts. He’d enjoyed his time with Kristen, enjoyed watching the layers peel away as she shed inhibitions—even if her newfound confidence had given him pause every now and again. But their time of sharing secrets was over.