Three Weeks With a Bull Rider

by Cat Johnson

  “Not a surprise that whoever owned it before you wanted to get rid of it.” He straightened up, wiping his hands on a rag. “It’s a piece of shit, pardon my language. Looks like it needs a new radiator. Good chance the block is cracked.”

  “Is all that expensive to fix?” Tara was afraid she wasn’t going to like his answer.

  He let out a snort. “There ain’t no fixing a cracked engine block. You’d have to replace it and in my opinion, this car ain’t worth that. Did you take anybody there with you when you bought it?”

  “No.”

  “You shoulda. Folks are gonna take advantage of a pretty young thing like yourself. Next time, take a man with you.” He cocked his graying head to one side and delivered that annoying, chauvinistic but true advice a week too late.

  Tara tangled her hands in her hair and swallowed a scream. Shoulda, coulda, woulda. It was too late now.

  Maybe she had gone a little crazy after she’d found out Logan was getting married to that interloper Emma from New York. The pain of that news had made her desperate to get out of town. She had to get away from him and the hurt, and get on with her life.

  In hindsight, going back to school, and signing up for an internship that required she own transportation had been foolish. Tara had emptied out her bank account and bought this thing. The whole time, she’d been so proud of doing it all on her own with no help from her parents or her brothers.

  That’s what she got for being independent.

  “There’s a salvage yard not too far from here. I bet they’d give you a decent bit of cash for the scrap metal.” He shrugged. “Cut your losses and take what you can get. It’s better than walking away with nothing.”

  Nothing was exactly what she had. Nothing left in her bank account. Nothing to drive. And if she couldn’t complete her internship, no sports medicine degree at the end of the upcoming semester and nothing to show for all those years in college.

  Thank goodness this stock contractor happened to be parked nearby when she’d pulled the smoking and sputtering car into the arena parking lot. Tara wouldn’t have known what to do on her own. She would have called a tow truck or a garage, and they would have charged her an arm and a leg to tell her what this guy had told her for free.

  She drew in a breath. “All right. Thanks for looking at it for me.”

  “My pleasure, little lady.” He nodded, tipping his hat. “You have someone to call for a ride?”

  “Yeah, my brother lives in Stillwater. He’ll come get me if I give him a call. If he’s not already here riding tonight.” Tara glanced at the trucks parked in the lot. There was a good chance Tuck’s was around somewhere.

  He’d no doubt give her a nice long lecture about her stupidity for buying the car alone. Maybe a free ride wasn’t worth that after all.

  It didn’t matter. Neither a lecture nor admitting her mistake would solve her problem for the near future. How was she going to finish the three weeks of her internship requirement if she couldn’t get to the competitions and work with the sports medicine team? The Central States Bull Riding Association ran competitions a few days a week all around Oklahoma and Texas, a different town for every event. Tara needed to be mobile.

  “I hate to leave you here like this, but I got a truck full of stock to unload.” He closed the hood with a slam and stepped back.

  “No, of course. You go. Sorry I kept you so long. I’ll be fine.” She hoped that last statement were true. She’d be fine or she’d be stranded there. One or the other. She needed to call Tuck to find out which.

  After the man tipped his hat and took his leave, Tara pulled her cell phone out of her jeans pocket and dialed Tuck’s number. Tapping her foot, she waited through the ringing, and then through the voice mail prompt until finally it was her turn to talk. “Tuck, I’m in Shawnee at the arena and my car broke down. I was hoping you were here riding . . . anyway, call me back. I’m stuck and I need a ride. Bye.”

  Damn. She disconnected the call and shoved the phone back into her pocket. She’d have to go inside and check the day sheet to see if Tuck was entered. If not, he’d better answer his damn phone so he could come get her.

  With a huff, Tara spun on the heel of her cowboy boot, bound for the building. She stepped from behind her car and into the path of a truck going way too fast for a parking lot. It skidded in the gravel and rocked to a stop as she leaped back. After a second, the maniac behind the wheel swung the vehicle into the empty spot next to her car.

  The driver’s side door opened and Tara recognized the truck and the man who’d almost flattened her.

  Jace Mills. That figured. Chief idiot and number one annoyance from among her brother’s roster of friends, and he’d nearly run her over. “Jesus, Jace. You coulda killed me. Slow the fuck down.”

  “You kiss your momma with that dirty mouth, Tara?” Jace raised one sandy brow high above his hazel eyes. “And you stepped right out in front of me. Look where you’re going from now on.”

  Tara clenched her jaw and tried to control the string of obscenities she’d love to let loose on him.

  “I was distracted, but you should still be more careful. There are families walking around here with kids and stuff.” She frowned at the empty cab of Jace’s truck. “Tuck’s not with you.”

  “That is an excellent observation, Tara. I always knew you were smarter than you look.”

  Couldn’t this man cut her even one little break? Every tiny piece of information she got out of him was a struggle. “Why isn’t Tuck with you?”

  “That is a very good question.”

  She rolled her eyes in frustration. “Do you have an answer?”

  “I do, and it’s a doozy.” Jace waggled his brows. “Wanna hear?”

  “Dammit. Yes, Jace, I wanna hear.” Tara would need dental work from gritting her teeth if she continued this painful conversation with this obnoxious, frustrating, annoying man who made her want to scream.

  A wide grin stretched across Jace’s lips. “He’s at a wine tasting with Becca, and Emma, and his BFF Logan.”

  Tara’s gut twisted at hearing Logan’s name. Having Jace mention it in the same breath as Logan’s new wife made it even worse. She’d loved Logan for as long as she could remember, and Becca’s sister Emma had swooped in and stolen him from her. Tara swallowed away the bitter taste in the back of her throat, nauseated all over again by the memories of her last conversation with Logan. It had been on the day of his wedding. He’d told her he’d never loved her and never would. That he loved Emma.

  Needing to focus on the situation at hand, and not her broken heart, Tuck’s sudden interest in wine over rodeo left Tara stuck without a ride. “Crap. I need Tuck to be here tonight.”

  “We’re going to have to talk about that potty mouth of yours, young lady.” Jace folded his arms across his chest and leaned against the truck. “But before we do, why do you need Tuck here? And come to think of it, why are you here?”

  “Not that it’s any of your business, but I’m working with the sports medicine team to fulfill my internship requirement for graduation.”

  “Sports medicine? That’s what you’re going to school for?” Jace frowned. “Hmm. I thought it was veterinary studies.”

  “You’re so observant.” Tara rolled her eyes.

  Jace’s only response was to lift one shoulder in a shrug.

  Unfortunately, as much of an idiot as he was, it looked like he was also her only hope of a ride. Her parents’ house and school were too far away to go there, but if Jace would drive her to Stillwater, she could crash for the night at Tuck and Becca’s place.

  “Can you tow a car with that thing?” Tara eyed the monster behind him. A man with a truck that large must be severely lacking in other areas.

  He hooked a thumb at his vehicle. “This thing? Tow a car? Uh, yeah. I could tow a tractor trailer if I had to. Why?”

  “My car is dead.” She tilted her head in the direction of the piece of crap behind her. “One of the stock cont
ractors took a look at it for me and suggested I tow it to the local scrap yard and junk it.”

  Jace eyed the vehicle and let out a long slow whistle. “That bad, huh?”

  “Apparently. And then, I also kind of need a ride to Tuck’s place.” She’d play on her brother’s sympathies when she got to Stillwater. Maybe she could convince Tuck to loan her his truck for the next few weeks.

  It’s not like he needed it. He and Becca both worked at the same damn place. They should carpool. Save the environment. Reduce their carbon footprint, and all that good stuff.

  A smug smirk appeared on Jace’s face. “So what you’re saying is, you need my help.”

  “Forget about it. I’ll find another ride.” Tara let out a huff. She’d just keep calling Tuck until he answered.

  “I didn’t say no. Stop pouting. God almighty, you’re such a child.”

  Gasping at the worst insult he could have thrown at her, Tara had no words except to deny it. “I am not a child. You’re a—”

  “Tara, stop. If you’d shut up one doggone minute and listen, you’d hear I’m saying okay. I’ll help you. I’ll take a look at your car and if it doesn’t look fixable, I’ll tow it to the scrap yard and drive you back to Stillwater.”

  The man was so infuriating. She’d love to plant the toe of her cowboy boot right where the sun didn’t shine, but he was willing to help, so she’d have to play nice.

  “And what would I have to give you in exchange? I’m warning you. I’ve got hardly any cash on me. Not even enough to help pay to fill that monster of yours with gas. Seriously, like next to none. I emptied my account for that piece of shit car.”

  “What’s with the Jenkins family that y’all always assume I’m destitute?” Jace scowled. “I don’t need your money. I have plenty of my own to pay for gas, thanks.”

  That comment confused her. She honestly didn’t think or care about Jace’s finances, but she still didn’t trust him as far as she could throw him. He wouldn’t do her a favor for nothing. He must have some ulterior motive. “Then what do you want?”

  “Hmm, let’s see. What do I want?” Jace stared up at the sky and tapped one forefinger on his chin. “I know. You have to be nice to me. No name calling. No smart-ass comments. None of your usual bullshit. Think you can do that?”

  Not likely. “I don’t know. For how long?”

  “Until we get to Stillwater. Starting now.”

  “How about starting the moment we get inside the arena until we get in your truck for the drive to Stillwater?”

  “You’re unbelievable.” Laughing, Jace shook his head. “All right. It’s a deal.”

  Jace extended one big, rough hand and though she’d never willingly touched him before, Tara shook it to seal the deal on this unholy alliance.

  One day, far in the future, when Tara had a successful career and a happy marriage, she’d look back at this time in her life. At how she’d had her heart broken by Logan, the only man she’d ever loved, and survived to be a stronger woman because of it. How, stranded in Shawnee during week one of her internship, she’d hitched a ride with the devil. And how, being the mature person she knew herself to be, she’d even been nice to him for one whole night . . . Lord have mercy.

  “Hey, Jace. Good to see you, man.”

  Jace swallowed the swig of water he’d just taken and glanced up to see Dillon McMahan striding toward him. “Hey, Dillon. Good to see you, too. Since you weren’t already here when I walked in, I figured you were laying out again this week.”

  “Yeah, I left the house late. The baby’s sick and the wife is stressed out.” The younger man dropped his gear bag on the ground and took out his bull rope. “Thank God I got the go-ahead for tonight. I was about going crazy being kept out of competition. Frigging doctor wouldn’t let me ride last week. Concussion.”

  Jace let out a short laugh at Dillon’s scowl over the doctor’s diagnosis. “Figured you would have been here anyway, trying to convince the doc otherwise.”

  “I would have been, but I know what’s good for me. The wife says stay home, I stay home.” Dillon shot Jace a sideways glance. “At least I do if I ever want to have sex with her again.”

  Jace really laughed at that. “Oh, man. Married life. You and Tuck can keep that shit for yourselves.”

  “Where is Tuck?”

  “One guess why Tuck’s not here tonight, and I’ll give you a hint—it has nothing to do with a concussion.”

  “The new wife?” Dillon glanced up, brows raised.

  “Yup.” Jace did his friend a huge favor by not telling where Becca had made Tuck go rather than letting him ride. Tuck should thank him for that. “When you up?”

  Dillon started to prep his rope, running a stiff brush over it to knock off any dirt. “Second. Figures, right? The one day I’m late. You?”

  “If things don’t change, it looks like I’m up next to last.” Jace had a long while to wait.

  He’d already cleaned and rosined his own bull rope when he’d first arrived. He wouldn’t strap on his chaps and spurs until later, right before he climbed into the chute. To avoid boredom, he had been occupying his time watching Tara scamper around the arena like a puppy following after the doctor in charge of the sports medicine crew.

  Dillon put on his riding glove and yanked it down the length of the bull rope he’d tied on the rail, warming the rosin and working it into the fibers. “So who’s the new hottie?”

  “Hottie? Where?” Jace glanced around. He’d like to meet her. He could tell Tuck about it and get the man off his back.

  “The one you keep staring at over there by the exit. Jeans. White shirt. Long dark hair, braided. Nice little body on her.”

  “You mean Tara?” Jace glanced once again to where the sports medicine team was standing, with Tara right in the middle. He guessed Dillon’s description was accurate, except for the hottie part. “Tara’s not a hottie. She’s Tuck’s sister. She’s got some sort of internship thing with the sports medicine team . . . for her schooling.”

  “Ah, okay. Gotcha.” Dillon nodded. “Cowboy code. No sisters. You have to stay away from her whether she’s smoking hot or not.”

  “What?” Jace laughed. “No, that’s not it at all. She hates my guts, and I enjoy pissing her off as often as possible. That’s the extent of it.”

  Tara was young and annoying, but definitely not smoking hot as this kid had put it. Dillon and Jace definitely did not cross paths when it came to taste in women.

  Jace caught a glimpse of Tara again, walking away from him toward the back area with one of the docs. Her jeans were a little tight. Belted, and with the button-down white shirt tucked inside, it did give the appearance that she had more curves than her usual straight as a board, boyish shape. That must have been what caught Dillon’s eye—that illusion of a small, nipped-in waist above rounded hips that swayed a bit when she walked in the cowboy boots.

  But a hottie? Tara? Nope.

  Dillon would reevaluate his opinion fast enough once she opened her smart mouth and the insults started to fly. Though not tonight. Jace remembered their deal—one whole night with no running commentary from her, no matter what he said or did. He intended to thoroughly enjoy it, smiling just thinking about it.

  Glancing up, he found Dillon watching him with brows raised.

  “What?” Jace asked.

  “You sure there’s nothing going on between you and her?” Dillon tipped a head in the direction Tara had gone.

  Jace frowned. “Are you nuts? Of course, I’m sure.”

  “I won’t tell Tuck if there is. I swear, man. My wife’s brothers used to hate me. She and I had to sneak around for years, so I get it.” Dillon’s sincerity was heartwarming, and completely ridiculous and unnecessary.

  “Dillon, seriously. No. If Tara ran me over in the street, she’d only stop long enough to back up and do it again.”

  Lucky for Jace, she was without a car. He should have stuck to his guns and made her be nice to him for the drive back
to Stillwater, too. That was going to be a hell of a painful ride if she was in a pissy mood. Knowing Tara, it was very possible.

  “All right. Whatever you say, Jace.”

  Jace ignored the doubt in Dillon’s tone as Tara made her way toward them. He watched her progress, and the attention it got from the bull riders along her path. Apparently all these guys shared Dillon’s taste in girls. Every cowboy hat in the vicinity swiveled as the man wearing it turned to watch her walk by.

  Tara was eating it up. She treated one guy to a smile, another got a nod. By the time she arrived, her cheeks were pink and her eyes bright. She loved the attention—and that would make it extra fun for Jace to ruin her good time.

  “Hey, darlin’.” When she was close enough, he reached out, wrapped one arm around her shoulders and reeled her in, holding her tight against him.

  An expression of horror settled on Tara’s face. Her blue eyes popped open wide as they moved from his fingers wrapped around her shoulder, to his face smiling down at her. “What the hell are you doing?”

  “Just being friendly.”

  “Well, stop it,” she hissed and glanced around them.

  “Now, now, Tara. Remember our deal. Better be nice to me. It’s a long walk to Stillwater.” Her scowl had Jace laughing. “So what can I do for you? Or did you come over just to visit with me and wish me luck?”

  Tara clenched her jaw. “I know what I wish—”

  Jace’s slow clucking and the sway of his head had her cutting off her comment.

  “I came to tell you—I mean ask you—if it would be all right for me to stay after the end for about fifteen minutes to take care of some paperwork for the internship.”

  He smiled at how she’d gone from demanding to asking if he’d wait for her to finish her business. “Of course, darlin’. I stick around to sign autographs anyway, so it’s fine.”

  “Thank you.” Judging by her sour expression, her thanks had left a bad taste in her mouth.

  Meanwhile, every cowboy nearby had seen Jace with his arm around her, even Dillon, who could barely contain his grin as he bent to strap on his spurs. The nearest group of riders had shifted their attention away from Tara, and over to a couple of girls who were hanging over the rail and showing a good amount of cleavage.