A shot loosened her spine to the point she thought she wouldn’t be able to stay up right. Her body was warm and welcoming to JT. He still filled her completely. Her hips rocked as his fingers scored his chest in search of something to balance her.
“That’s my girl,” JT hissed with his hands locked on her hips. His biceps flexed as he moved her over him.
Betsy wanted to lie to herself that she’d missed the touch of a man, but couldn’t. She missed the touch of this man. His dark skin contrasted her French manicure when her hands searched for purchase.
Her mind rushed with thoughts of love and how it felt to be close to JT again. He thrust up against her core and she screamed. Her hips fell to meet his in a rhythm all their own. Her hands reached for his and their fingers intertwined. Using her knees to balance she began short tight circles. JT had amazing core strength as he pulled up and captured her lips right as they both came in a way that would put the fireworks later that night to shame.
They both released the other’s hands and wrapped their arms around each other. Holding tight Betsy hoped it wasn’t her imagination playing tricks on her because she swore JT was as afraid of her letting go as she was of him not being there when she opened her eyes.
Chapter Six
Betsy dressed, reapplied her makeup, and was in the middle of braiding her hair when her phone buzzed.
“Aren’t you supposed to be unavailable in the wilderness?” she asked Bert.
“Aren’t you supposed to be dressed professionally?”
Betsy looked down at her jeans and western shirt. It was a pale blue with ivory piping that created a fleur-de-lis on the pocket. How did Burt know what she was wearing?
“What’s wrong with what I’m wearing?”
“If it’s anything like last night it’s highly inappropriate. This isn’t cow country.”
“Isn’t Minnesota second or third in the production of milk products?”
“Fine, this isn’t beef country. You know you’re to dress in business attire.”
“You told me to dust off my cowboy boots.”
“I thought they’d have more of a heel to them.”
“No, those would be dress boots and would cause me to break an ankle on the uneven ground.”
“Do you have any skirts with you?”
Betsy bit her lip. She’d feared this and did have a few skirts, but they’d be destroyed if she wore them to a rodeo.
“I have one.”
“Wear it.”
“What if it’s a jean one?”
“Why would you bring a jean skirt?”
“I know the rodeo circuit; you don’t.”
“Do you have appropriate footwear?”
“Yes, I’ve been wearing it.”
“Not those. You look short and stocky on TV and what’s with that damn rope trick shit?”
“Mr. Conroy ordered me to do it every broadcast.”
“Seriously?”
“Yes, it got a great response. Tons of shares off the video.”
“Fine, but I want to see you in heels and a skirt or dress... not jeans.”
“I’ll pull something together.”
“See that you do.”
Shit! Betsy let her hair down knowing full well a braid would not be tolerated either. Pulling out her hairspray and style gels she did her hair like she was in a studio and not on location.
Her backpack weighed a ton by the time she had all of her gear appropriate. Ron scanned her from head to toe when she walked out with her heels hooked on her fingers and dressed in a black pencil skirt and button up salmon shirt.
“That’s gonna be hot,” he said.
“I’ve got in between clothes too, but we don’t have time before the five o’clock spot for me to change. I looked too farmy for Bert.”
“Farmy?” Ron replied, drawing out the word.
“Don’t ask. I’ve got Danny lined up for an interview. He should be in a trailer setting up the riders and their horses.”
“How does that work anyway?”
“Random draw. Knowing Danny he still uses slips of paper and a mason jar.”
Betsy quickly switched to her heels as she and Danny waited by a sign for the rodeo. She tried to balance on the heels, but the ground kept giving way to the sharp points. Using a tissue she blotted her face and neck, then extended her arms to keep from getting pit stains.
“You look uncomfortable, Bets,” Danny pointed out.
“Boots and cotton would be more comfortable than silk and heels.” Betsy decided to put all her weight on her toes and balance that way.
“You seen JT today?”
“Yes.” She hoped the flush on her cheeks would look like heat stroke to Danny instead of what it was.
“You seeing him again tonight?”
“He’s supposed to be here to do rope tricks after our interview.”
“Really,” Danny as he leaned in and nudged Betsy, upsetting her balancing act.
Tumbling back she got her left heel caught in a spot that had become mud from the condenser on the trailer. Her foot turned under her ankle and a sharp stab of pain shot up the outside of her leg.
“Frick,” she cried as she reached for the trailer for support before she crashed to the ground. Danny caught her arm and pulled her back up as tears from the pain pinpricked her eyes.
“Oh, God, Bets, I didn’t mean...” Danny held her close to him.
“You okay Betsy?” Ron asked as he knelt by her side and cradled her foot in his hands.
“Please say there’s no blood or bones sticking out.”
“No,” Ron tried to not laugh as he began massaging her ankle. “You gonna be able to stand?”
“I couldn’t stand before with two legs,” she spit.
“You want me to find some chairs?” Danny asked.
“No, I’ll get in trouble for that too.” Betsy steeled herself as she placed her toe on the ground. “Damn...” with a hiss she bit back the pain. “Please put the shoe back on for me.”
“Okay Cinderella.”
“Why you wearin’ those things anyway?” Danny asked.
“Her boss is making her.”
“Why?”
“Because he doesn’t have to.”
JT walked up and must have seen the pain on Betsy’s face. He rushed to her side and took up holding up her other side.
“This is just great. Three minute warning, Betsy,” Ron said.
“I heard,” Betsy pressed her earpiece and listened to the day’s weather for the night’s fireworks.
“You sure you’ll be able to do this?” JT asked.
“I have to. It’ll be fine, just someone please find me some ice after this is done.”
Ron walked over with the camera balanced on his shoulder and blotted her face, then her eyes.
“We gotta get rid of these tears.”
“How bad are they?”
“You’re gonna be streaky.”
“Great, another call from Bert.”
“Thirty seconds, Betsy,” the director back at the studio said. “Where’s Ron? We have no live feed.”
“I’m here,” Ron responded and turned on the light.
“What the hell is going on?” the director asked.
“Next time there’s one of those charity races where the guys run in heels, get Bert a pair of six inch stilettos and enter him.”
“Okay? Fifteen seconds.”
Ron counted down with his fingers as Betsy listened in her ear.
“And up in Brainerd we have KSCP’s own Betsy Flynn,” Sven the weekend anchor said. “Hey Betsy what...” she must look like hell because he paused for moment. “Are you up to this weekend?”
“What’s the Fourth of July without some real life cowboys and a good old fashioned rodeo, Sven. There’s still time to drive up and make it in time for tonight’s action. I’ve got Danny, he’s your MC and head jokester. Danny why not tell the people what they’ll get to see here tonight.”
The re
st of the interview went well, or as well as can be expected when every time Betsy put weight on her leg it was as if a knife was stabbed into her ankle. The pain travelled up to her knee and wrapped around making her pray for her five minute segment to get cut short. JT did some rope tricks with Danny instead of her and when the red light flashed off JT scooped her up into his arms and brought her inside the cool trailer.
He laid her down on the couch inside and elevated her ankle as the paramedic on duty was called. Danny dug through the small fridge and found some ice and wrapped it in a towel.
“What were you thinking wearing those damn shoes?” JT scolded as he removed them from her feet and snapped the heels off. “There, now your stupid vanity won’t get you hurt more.”
“Hey, jerk,” Ron said as he grabbed the remains of the shoes. “You think she wanted to wear them? She’s not an idiot. She sure as hell didn’t need someone destroying them. You know how much those cost?”
JT looked down at the remains of the black heels with red on the bottom and suddenly got sick.
“Can’t you bill the station saying they broke when she was entering the arena?”
Ron let out a sigh, then shook his head in defeat.
“I’ve got some phone calls to make. You okay?”
“Yes,” Betsy said as she took some Ibuprofen from Danny.
JT sat at the end of the couch and laid a pillow and Betsy’s feet on his lap. The paramedic arrived and said she probably had a sprained ankle from hyperextending it, but he couldn’t be sure without x-rays.
“I have a six o’clock spot then the rodeo starts. I don’t have time for x-rays.”
“And walking around on a broken ankle makes sense?” JT condescended to her.
“You heard him, it’s not broken.”
“Probably,” the paramedic said as he wrapped her ankle. “I said probably, I don’t have x-ray vision.”
“I’ll take it.”
“After your last broadcast you’re going to ER,” JT informed her.
“Then I’ll miss the concert.”
“Why are you being so damn stubborn?”
“Because my ankle is now numb and I only have one more night with you. I don’t want it to be in an ER.”
“The gown opens in the back. I could have lots of fun with that,” JT offered. “And you could get the strong drugs that will make you all loopy.”
“Tempting, but I think he’s right it’s just a sprain.”
Betsy then stroked JT’s face and he leaned in close.
“Thank you for showing up for the spot,” Betsy said as she gave JT a deep kiss.
“I promised I’d be there for you. I’ll never break a promise to you again. Especially when it’s something important.”
Ron came back in and told Betsy she was good to go with jeans, boots, and a braid for the rest of the spots this weekend. She pulled him down and kissed his cheeks. After the six o’clock news Betsy and Ron found a front row seat and she iced and elevated her ankle as the festivities started up.
“Betsy, did you try bull riding today?” Howard teased as he sat in behind her and Ron. Cole was being surrounded by fans three aisles over.
She rehashed the turn of events and Howard scrunched his face in disapproval.
“I thought you liked being girly on the sideline. I didn’t know it was a mandate.”
“I’m not complaining,” Betsy lied. “I love my job. I’m just bummed because I can’t sneak another ride before I have to go back to the city.”
“You like riding wild horses?” Howard asked.
“No, there are regular ones here too. I’ve got friends up here from Texas. I got to ride this morning and it was great.”
“I’ve got a few horses. If I’d known you liked to ride so much I could have let you take them out.”
“You have horses?”
“Yes. I grew up in the city, but I had an uncle that had a farm and I’d spend summers there. When Cole signed his first deal he bought me a horse to ride, then I studded it out and was able to get another. Now I have three and I show them occasionally.”
“What type?”
“Arabian. I’m not really big into the shows, but I do like being able to go out on them once in awhile.”
“Where do they live?”
“Now, up here, but I just found a place opening up closer to the city so we’re bringing them down next week. When you’re healed call me and I’ll give you directions.”
“That’s so generous.”
“It’s nothing, you’ll be saving the boarder from having to exercise at least one of them.”
“I will take you up on that.”
“Hey Betsy-Wetsy.” Cole plopped in next to his dad.
“And you wonder why she won’t date you,” his father scolded.
“I’ve tried the sincere, sweet, demanding, strong and pathetic begging... childish was next.”
“I’m impressed you put that much thought into it, Cole,” Betsy said as she repositioned the ice that was mostly melted water now.
“Does that get me extra points?”
“No,” Betsy sighed. “But it will make it so I recommend you to the women that want to date you.”
Howard chuckled, but then pretended to be really interested in Danny’s attempt to do a backflip.
“I don’t have a problem with you being older than me, so why do you have a problem with it?”
“Cole how many players have you seen me with?”
“None.”
“So why do you think it’s personal?”
“None of them hit on you.”
“Yes, they do. All the time. I’m a female sports reporter who’s forced to wear fuck-me pumps on the sideline. I spend half my time avoiding advances from some of the most sought after bachelors and, not bachelors in many cases, in the country.”
“Well... um...” Cole stuttered.
“She’s got a point there son,” Howard said.
“You crack me up and if there were no strings or expectations attached I’d totally have a beer with you and talk sports. But I’ve only had one guy in the last eight years that ever wanted to know about me before we went out.”
Ron turned and gave her a solemn look, then looked to where JT was stationed with Smash.
“You’ve never given me a chance to get to know you.”
“That’s probably true, but of all the sports I cover you have the easiest one with the most down time that you could have tried. Instead it was always about ‘hey Bets when we goin’ out’. You never once asked me if I was even in a relationship, Cole.”
“I asked Ron,” Cole said in his defense.
“Are you twelve?”
“I was seventeen when you started covering me.”
Howard seemed to stretch his face out as he scratched the top of his nose. If nothing else she was getting some great points from Howard.
“Tell me something about yourself,” Cole demanded.
“That’s not how it works. Try again. It’ll help you find a real woman and not fan.”
“What’s your favorite color, Betsy?”
Betsy tilted her head to the side and pondered the question.
“Burnt orange.”
“Why?”
“Sunsets in the fall. I love those. The ones in winter and spring tend to be more blue and pinked toned. But in the fall, the harvest is done and it’s the joy of finishing something wonderful. You know what I mean?”
“Like you’ve had the hardest practice of your life and get to slide into the whirlpool.”
“Exactly. In the spring you’re rushing around getting everything started. But in the fall you’re snuggling in.”
“Is baseball your favorite sport to cover?”
“No.”
“Why not? All the strategy, stats... aren’t those your bread and butter?”
“I guess, but I’m from Texas. It’s all about the Cowboys... either riding or playing on Sunday. I love football, basketball’s okay too. I wa
s there when Matthias Jessup proposed. That game had such a different vibe after that.”
“You want a public proposal?”
“I want a sincere one. That doesn’t need spectacle.”
“Fast sports and quiet men, that’s what you like.”
Betsy leaned back and looked out to the arena where the latest rider had just been released. JT was stiff on the back of Smash ready to go the second the buzzer sounded. The cowboy was tossed before the bell and JT and Clint took off to corral the bucking bronc. Once settled in the chute he trotted back with Clint to their post. Fast, then quiet. Adrenaline rushing then crashing into a sated, but satisfied man.
“I never thought about it that way.” Betsy tilted her head to the side and smiled. “You listened. That gets you points.”
*****
“Next up, Ty Murphy from Glenwood Springs, Colorado,” Danny introduced the next rider and JT settled into his saddle. “This cowpoke is gonna be riding Trusty Earl. Now ladies and gentleman Ty stayed on for almost five seconds after the bell last night. Let’s see if he wants to give his mama a heart attack and do that again.”
The chute opened and JT stilled as he watched Ty being thrust back once, twice. On the third throw back he flipped off the back of the horse and Clint and JT took off. Clint positioned his horse between the bucking bronc and Ty who was already scrambling to the sideline. JT quickly lassoed the bronc and had him under control. The bull fighters helped get the animal locked away in the chute.
Looking in the stands he saw Betsy talking to Cole again. Only this time she was smiling... broadly and her eyes sparkled even from this distance. Cole looked like he was on the receiving end of a great conversation. Then Betsy turned and locked eyes with JT. The smile went from one of a laughing girl, to a woman in love. He had her. In that moment he knew he was who she was watching and he was who she wanted. Tonight he was going to tell her about the farm he bought and his plans to be by her.
“Everyone pull out your sunglasses because Sunshine Parker’s about to shine.”
JT pulled up along side Clint and felt a tingle up his spine. With a click the bronc busted out off chute and instantly JT knew something was wrong. The bronc’s back leg smashed against the gate as it came out and the extra jolt sent Sunshine forward with too much force. He became a pinball bouncing between the front and back of the horse until he flew off, forward tumbling over the horse’s head.
Red Hot and BOOM! A Sizzling Hot Collection of Stories from the Red Hot Authors Page 51
