From there, everything devolved real quick. Water began to shoot out in every direction from the broken sprayer, drenching Dennis, me, and the sheep. The cold temperature of the water knocked the breath out of me and Dennis began to shriek in a shrill voice. That extra splash of water must’ve been the last straw for Timmy the sheep because with a powerful yank of his black head, he pulled the halter rope from Dennis’ hands and made a break for it.
When I’d imagined participating in the Junior Rodeo Queen contest, I hadn’t imagined I’d be soaked to the bone and chasing a runaway sheep with a small child screaming bloody murder at me. But here I was, pushing my sopping hair out of my face and doing my best to hold in the very choice words I would’ve liked to say to that redheaded runt and his wooly pet. It was lucky that Ms. Gentry hadn’t been around to witness my performance. It wasn’t exactly filled with poise. However, victory was mine when Timmy made an abrupt turn and I snagged the end of the halter rope before he could totally escape.
“How’s that for a rodeo queen?” I said forcefully, grinning up at my friends still watching. I might not have had it all together, but at least I could catch a runaway sheep.
Instead of excitement or approval, all I saw were various forms of horror in their eyes. Lexi had her hands slapped over her face and Beth was squinting at me as if she were trying to figure out how to push the reset button. Hunter was wide-eyed and frozen like a Greek marble statue. Next to him, Graham and the rest of the boys were snickering and pointing at me in a way that made me want to lift Timmy up and use him like a shield.
But I didn’t need a shield. It seemed that Hunter had thawed from his shock. With one swift movement that resembled Clark Kent’s transformation into Superman, he marched toward me, determination blazing in his eyes, and pulled his flannel over his head to reveal a white tank underneath.
“Put this on. Now,” he said forcefully, taking Timmy’s halter and shoving the shirt into my hands. He turned to stand in front of me, his broad torso blocking me from the view of the crowd.
Whoa. Something had to be seriously wrong for Hunter to talk to me like that. He was never that gruff.
I threw the back of his head a perplexed look but didn’t question him as I pulled his shirt over my head. It smelled like Hunter, with his woodsy cologne. The sleeves hung way past my hands and the shoulders were too broad, but it was a soft material and comfortable to wear.
“Didn’t realize this was going to include a wet t-shirt contest,” Graham said loudly, elbowing the boys next to him. “I think you’ve got my vote for rodeo queen, Charlotte.”
A wet t-shirt contest? A violent flush crept up my neck and into my cheeks. I should’ve known today would be the wrong day to pair a white t-shirt with my pink Nike sports bra. That unintentional water fight had soaked me through and made me a spectacle.
All thanks to a stupid sheep.
So much for fixing my tarnished reputation. I was now the girl who’d almost drowned and put on inappropriate shows at county fairs. This was just perfect. This year couldn’t get any better.
“Move it along, Graham,” Hunter growled in a low and dangerous tone. “Before I make you.”
My head buzzed with shock as I stood half-hidden behind my best friend. I’d never seen Hunter act like that before. He sounded so intimidating, it almost had me wanting to cower. Graham’s eyes flashed as he glared unblinkingly at Hunter for an entire ten seconds. Anyone walking by at that moment probably could’ve sensed the heavy testosterone in the air. But finally, with a smirk and a toss of his head, Graham began to walk away.
“This was boring anyway,” he grumbled. “I’ve got better things to do.”
That seemed to be only the first domino. One by one, the other cowboys surrounding Lexi and Beth melted into the background, each finding more important places they needed to be. When they were all gone and the crowd dispersed, Hunter turned to me, his gaze softening.
“Are you okay?” He looked me up and down, assessing me for injuries.
It was hard not to take a moment to appreciate the muscular curves of his arms now that he was stripped down to nothing but a white tank. His skin actually glistened in the bright sunlight, as if he’d put baby oil on this morning. I found myself staring a little too hard at the broadness of his shoulders and it took him saying my name three times before it truly registered in my brain.
“Charlotte?” His eyes narrowed with concern and he leaned down to make eye contact with me. “Are you okay?”
“Y-y-yes,” I said, nodding. I needed to stop looking at him like that. He was my best friend, not a Calvin Klein model. “I’m fine. No harm done. Thanks for that save, by the way. I definitely didn’t mean to put on a show for the whole county.” I snorted, trying to push off the embarrassment still throbbing in my chest. “It’s a good thing I wore my sports bra today.”
Hunter nodded sharply, suddenly tearing away his gaze to stare at something fascinating on the ground. Was that a hint of pink I saw in his cheeks? He’d never been squeamish about girl things before now. And really, the bikini I’d worn when we went camping together with our families two years ago wasn’t much different from this sports bra. Still, it had been fascinating to see Hunter go all Hulk-like and then revert to a blushing Bruce Banner impression in such a short amount of time. It kind of made me wonder what other new sides of him I’d see this week.
“There you are, Charlotte. Ms. Gentry sent me to come get you.” Sarah Claiborne strolled up beside me, looking impeccably dry and put together. Her quick and disapproving look up and down my body had me wanting nothing more than to find a mirror and fix whatever disaster had happened to my hair. But when her attention turned to Hunter, her lips immediately curved into an alluring smile. “Hi, Hunter. How’s my favorite bull rider?”
“Hi, Sarah.” He rubbed the back of his head and squinted at her. “Fine, thanks.”
Alarms went off in my head. This was getting serious. Sarah had never so much as said five words to Hunter before he moved away. She’d lived in her popular world and we lived in ours. The fact that she was constantly putting on the charm around him was making the hairs on the back of my neck stand up.
“Maybe I’ll see you around,” she said, wrapping her long fingers around my upper arm with enough force to strangle a cat. She pulled me toward the direction of the pavilion, a smile still glued to her face. “I’d love to learn all about bull riding some time.”
“Uh...okay...sure.” He shot her an unsure smile, and then glanced at me. I knew that look. He was asking me if the world had suddenly flipped upside down.
“See you later,” I said with a wave, giving into Sarah’s pull. “And thanks for the shirt!”
Sarah dropped her hand from my arm and marched silently beside me. It wasn’t until the pavilion came into view with the other girls sitting at the picnic tables did she finally turn to me.
“Your friend. He’s single, right?”
The ground tilted beneath me. My dreadful suspicions had been confirmed. In what world was Sarah Claiborne attracted to Hunter McNally? So much for things not changing. That was all I needed—my enemy dating my best friend. Life would never go back to normal.
“Um...I don’t know...maybe not...” I grumbled.
Unfortunately, I wasn’t a very good liar. Add it to the list of things I didn’t have the talent for.
Sarah laughed and quirked her brow at me. “Nice try, Lottie. Even if I did believe that, you know it wouldn’t stop me.”
Yep, I did know that, but it hadn’t kept me from trying.
With a deep breath for courage, I turned toward her with the full intention of demanding that she stay away from Hunter. It would be a new thing for me. I wasn’t used to standing up to her. But I didn’t get the chance. She marched right past me, taking a seat next to Geminia at a picnic table.
The harsh look on Ms. Gentry’s face told me there was no time for a fight and I was already in the dog house. If I wanted to stay in this competition, I was g
oing to have to wait until later to tell Sarah just how wrong Hunter was for her.
And besides, Hunter would never be into someone like her. I knew him better than that. She was barking up the wrong tree.
But then again, it was becoming clear that a lot of things had changed with Hunter over the last year.
I could only hope that wasn’t one of them.
Chapter Eight
I thought washing sheep was bad. This was worse.
Way worse.
Mom hadn’t been kidding when she said she’d sign me up for that basket weaving class at the library. She’d driven me over here this evening in her van and practically shoved me out the door with an order to bring home my fabulous creation so she could proudly display it on her hutch at home.
I probably could’ve used my spontaneous entry into the Junior Rodeo Queen competition this morning as a trade-off to get out of it, but for some reason, I hadn’t mentioned it to her.
Part of me was still unsure about this whole operation. It was so not me. I’d already made a fool of myself once. Who knew washing sheep was so difficult?
Maybe it wasn’t too late to back out. The stiff and disapproving Ms. Gentry might have me assassinated, but that was a risk I was willing to take. Public humiliation in front of an entire arena of Rock Valley citizens was not.
Not that this basket weaving class didn’t contain plenty of embarrassment of its own. Everyone here was at least three times my age. One shriveled old man had to be nearing a hundred. The teacher was a hippy by the name of Joey with stringy brown hair, a goatee, and an accent that made me think he’d spent several years living in a tent on a beach and catching waves.
“You gotta feel the flow of the basket, dudes,” he said, walking around the group to observe as we attempted to build our own baskets. This was, of course, after a lengthy explanation about the artistic nature of grasses and a lecture about feng shui thrown in there for funsies.
The woman next to me had her heart set on making an elaborate picnic basket. I’d opted for the least time-intensive version. Mine was a basket for a family of mice. Well, it would have been, if I could actually weave it correctly. It was probably better fit for the trash. Not even the mice would want it. But despite all that, it would still end up on Mom’s hutch because she liked anything I did, as long as it didn’t involve underaged drinking and nearly getting myself drowned.
When the teacher had his back turned, I pulled out my phone in a last fit of desperation.
Me: Help! Basket weaving is officially the worst summer class ever.
I’m gonna lose my mind.
Or strangle myself with grass. Not a pretty way to go.
It only took a few seconds for Hunter’s speech bubble to pop up on the screen.
Hunter: Need an escape?
Me: Desperately.
Hunter: I’ll be right there.
Meet me outside.
I smiled and then tucked my phone back into my pocket before raising my hand. It was time to utilize an excuse as old as time.
“Mr. Joey?”
He turned toward me, a vacant smile on his face. “Yes, young pupil?”
I glanced at the people weaving their baskets next to me and then motioned for him to come closer so I could whisper. “May I be excused? Mother nature isn’t being very kind to me today. My female organs are punching me in the stomach.”
His brows arched and then nodded solemnly. “You know, I think I have something that could help you with those problems. Ginger is useful for problems of the female nature.”
“No, no ginger necessary.” I smiled painfully at him, trying my best to keep up the ruse. Most male teachers I knew would’ve tuned out by now and sent me on my way. It seemed that Joey was a different species. “But would you mind if I left class early? I think I have a date with my heating pad at home.”
“Of course, little pupil,” he said, patting the top of my head. “Go. Be free. Contemplate the mysteries of the universe. And don’t forget your basket.”
I scooped up my sorry excuse for a basket and said my goodbyes to the group. Most of them didn’t even look up as I left. And when I got outside, Hunter’s beat-up powder blue truck was waiting for me. It had the toolbox on the back, rusted out spots along the sides, and a set of massively large tires. The door swung open as I walked up, revealing Hunter sitting in the driver’s seat with a cream-colored cowboy hat on his head.
His black t-shirt with the sleeves cut off once again made it impossible not to notice the amazing cut of the muscles in his arms. He was definitely ripped. Living on a ranch had been good to the boy. The smile he shot me was full of mischief and his eyes twinkled under the brim of his hat.
“Hey, pretty little lady. I don’t suppose you ordered a white knight escape plan?”
I had to work hard to haul my petite self up into the passenger seat, but it gave me time to hide the heating of my face at Hunter’s compliment. This blushing thing was such a strange new thing. I couldn’t wait for it to go away.
“Are you supposed to be my white knight?” I asked, grinning over at him as I buckled in.
He faked a hurt expression, placing a hand on his heart. “You even have to ask that question? I take my role as your white knight very seriously. The valiant blue steed agrees.”
Patting the dashboard, he shot me another crooked grin. Immediately, something inside of me seemed to pulsate with need. It was a strange and powerful sensation, as if I hadn’t eaten for a year. Gulping for breath, I kept my eyes glued to the road as he put the truck into drive and pulled out of the library parking lot.
“So...where we going?”
My voice wasn’t quite as steady as usual. I could only hope Hunter didn’t notice. The last thing I needed was for him to get weirded out by the strange things happening to my body when I was around him. Apparently, I needed to have a stern conversation with myself about what was appropriate around my best friend.
“Hope you don’t mind, but I invited some of the rodeo guys over tonight for a backyard campfire,” he said, his eyes trained on the road. “They’re already there, getting the burgers started on the grill.”
I threw the back of my hand against my forehead and pretended to swoon in my seat. “Me and twenty cute cowboys all to myself? What’s a girl to do?”
He glanced at me and then back at the road. “You don’t...like one of them, do you?”
I snorted and watched the houses flying by my window. “Not a chance. If I want someone that smells like leather, I’ll cuddle my dog, Princess, and her toy football.”
“Good one,” he replied with a dry laugh.
Silence fell upon the truck. I glanced over at Hunter to see the muscles in his jaw working as he stared hard out the windshield. I wished I could read his mind. There was a time not that long ago when I’d have known exactly what was going on inside of that head of his.
“Mind if I invite Lexi and Beth?” I asked, pulling my phone out of my pocket. They were still in hot water over this whole competition thing, but I was pretty sure they’d never forgive me if I didn’t get them an invite. “They’d love to drool over your friends.”
He nodded. “Mom will like that. She was complaining about having too much testosterone in the house tonight.”
I laughed. That sounded like Bree. A few minutes after I shot a quick text off to the girls, we pulled up to Hunter’s house. There were several beat-up pickups parked along his road, a sure sign that the cowboy convention was in town. The F-150 in front of his house had a bleached deer skull and rack attached to its front grill. I shuddered at the sight and jumped out of the truck, thankful that at least Hunter hadn’t become that country since his time away.
The deer skull could go. The weirdly attractive cowboy hat could stay.
“They’re out back,” Hunter said, rounding the truck. “Come on, I’ll hunt you down a burger with pickles before they’re all gone.”
I grabbed his arm and looped mine around it with a sigh as we started
heading toward the side gate to his backyard. This was so much better than basket weaving. “Hunter McNally, you sure do know the way to a girl’s heart.”
He tossed his head back and laughed. The sound of it made my heart thrill.
“Char, I’m pretty sure you’re the only girl that would be won over by a burger and pickles.”
“Maybe.” I shrugged. “But you remember what I like, and that’s what counts.”
He stopped in front of the gate to unlatch it. The intense look he shot me sent a bolt of electricity to my stomach. “You act like you’re so forgettable. Pretty sure no one could ever forget anything about you. Especially me.”
His sweet words brought tears to my eyes. I sighed and then reached up to wrap my arms around his neck in a tight hug. It was no wonder I’d been so miserable this past year. Hunter knew just how to make me feel better—unlike anyone else.
“Have I mentioned I’m glad you’re home?” I whispered in his ear, inhaling the scent of his cologne.
“Me, too,” he said gruffly.
He wrapped his arms around my torso, his large hands splaying on the small of my back. The soft, tickling warmth of his breath against my neck made goosebumps break out all over my skin. All those hard, sinewy muscles he’d gotten from working on his grandpa’s ranch were pressed against me as he tightened his arms around my waist. I found myself not wanting to let go. Hunter made me feel safe and...like me again. As if the last few months hadn’t happened. Staying like this forever would’ve been just fine with me.
But then the gate swung wide open, revealing Bree with a plate full of hamburgers in her hands. Her eyes widened in surprise as we disentangled ourselves. I tried not to look guilty when I shot her a smile. What was there to feel guilty about? I used to hug Hunter all the time. I was the huggy type. She knew that.
“Hey, kiddos,” she said, her face returning to an unnaturally neutral expression. “I thought I heard someone drive up. Didn’t realize it was you. Party’s out back.”
Dare You to Resist the Bull Rider (Rock Valley High Book 4) Page 6
