What if I asked you not to ride?
The question had been haunting Slade ever since Laney had asked him, especially since those were the last words she’d spoken to him in over a week. He knew he should have kept his big mouth shut, and this was proof positive of what a total jerk he was.
He couldn’t answer her when she’d asked that question because he couldn’t tell her what she wanted to hear. He’d walked away without another word.
Laney had been avoiding him for the entire week and a half that followed, and he couldn’t blame her, nor could he say he’d made much of an effort to cross paths with her, either. If he were totally honest with himself, he didn’t want to know what she thought of him. In her present state of mind, knowing what she knew about him now, she’d be more dangerous to confront than a penned-up wildcat.
Not that he could blame her. If he had that day to do over again he would have kept his trap closed and excused himself to go set up bleachers or check the sound system or something. Anything to get away from the truth.
At least she hadn’t gone into premature labor because of his serious lapse in judgment. As much as he wanted to see Baby Beckett, he didn’t want the little tyke entering the world too soon.
Maybe it was better that the scene had played out the way it had. It would be better for both Laney and the baby if he just stayed away from them permanently, no matter how much his heart would ache to be separated from them. How ironic was it that he’d finally matured enough to put other people’s needs ahead of his own, and that meant he had to stay away from them, even when it hurt him to do so? That he was the very worst thing that could happen to the two people who meant the most to him? And yet how could he do less for the woman he’d come to deeply respect and care for?
She deserved better than that. Better than him.
Despite the overwhelming compulsion to honor Brody’s life with this ride, in the past week he’d considered scrapping the rodeo completely more times than he could count. But it was too late to back out now, even if he wanted to, with only two hours before the rodeo was set to begin.
He and a few other bull riders from several nearby towns were waiting to draw their bulls. Slade couldn’t stand still waiting for the news. He paced back and forth, tapping his hat against his thigh. The caged movement brought his thoughts back to the day he’d first brought Laney in to see Dr. D. He’d been so nervous for her—for Baby Beckett—that he’d prowled around like a tiger.
That was before he’d known what a wonderful lady Laney was. How he could have ever thought anything different about her he’d never know. He must have been blind.
As far as he knew, Laney hadn’t left the Becketts’ ranch in the past week. Hopefully no news was good news. If he wasn’t mistaken, it was still too early for Baby Beckett to make an entrance into the big, wide world, but surely Grant or Carol would have called him had Brody’s baby already been born.
He was half hoping Laney would decide not to attend the rodeo at all, but he knew her too well to really believe she’d avoid it. Whatever she thought about him riding, she had her own mountains to climb, and scale them she would, with the same strength she used to face the rest of her adversities. He had no doubt about that. Living in fear wasn’t Laney’s style, and she was the toughest woman he’d ever had the privilege of knowing.
“McKenna.” Captain Ian James, Serendipity’s police chief and the rodeo announcer, broke into his thoughts. “Where are you, son?”
“Sorry, sir.”
“You pulled Night Terror.”
Ice coursed through Slade’s veins. This was exactly what he wanted. It was exactly what he didn’t want.
Ian grabbed his elbow, pulled him aside and bent his head in close, out of the hearing range of the other riders. “You can back out, Slade. None of the other guys will give you any guff if you want to pull another lot. If they say anything, they’ll answer to me.”
Maybe they would, and maybe they wouldn’t. Cowboys were a hard lot. Slade knew how he would have reacted when he was younger. He might not have said anything to the guy’s face, but he definitely would have been laughing behind the man’s back for displaying such a lack of courage.
Then again, most of these cowboys were friends and neighbors and less likely to judge. They’d known Brody, attended his funeral, grieved for him.
Not that it mattered one way or another. Slade didn’t care about what the other cowboys thought of him, whether or not he lost or gained their respect. He was riding in honor of Brody, and there were only three living people whose opinion he cared about.
Grant, Carol and Laney.
“I’m in,” he said, so low that Ian had to lean his ear closer in order to hear his response.
“What was that?”
“I’m in.” His voice was stronger now that his decision had been made.
It was what he’d wanted, wasn’t it? What he’d been thinking about all these months? The chance to best Night Terror, have the ride of his life and end his bull riding career the way he’d started it—and in Brody’s name and honor.
He was experiencing a great deal of pent-up energy now that he knew he was going to ride, but it wasn’t the same as before. He no longer carried the wild, youthful—and often foolish—confidence and drive he’d once had, but he had something infinitely better.
Maturity. And hope for the future.
No matter how this played out, whether he rode for one second or eight, he would be there for Laney and the baby. He might only be relegated to an honorary Uncle Slade, but he’d take whatever Laney gave him and be thankful for it.
And if he had to daily confront his own feelings, never allowing them off the back burner no matter how painful it might be for him, then so be it.
He took a short walk to calm his nerves and prepare his mind for the ride ahead of him. He knew he needed to be concentrating on the now and not what might or might not be a very bleak future ahead of him, but it was difficult to keep his thoughts on point.
Very difficult, when Laney’s sweet face kept floating into his thoughts, distracting him.
When he returned to the arena, spectators were pouring in, not only from Serendipity, but from several neighboring towns. He hoped Laney would find a comfortable place to sit, somewhere out of the sun.
It would be better for him if she didn’t come at all, because he wasn’t certain he could give Night Terror his full focus knowing Laney was looking on. The last thing she needed was the possibility of watching the same kind of mishap that had killed her husband because Slade wasn’t paying attention to his ride.
But she’d be there. He knew it with a certainty he’d rather not have had.
Maybe if he didn’t actually see her, didn’t know for sure she was there, he would fare better. If he discovered afterward that she had seen him ride—well, he would deal with that eventuality when the time came.
He pulled his hat low over his brow and kept his eyes on the path before him.
Don’t look up. Don’t look up. Don’t look up.
He walked quickly and steadily to the rhythm of his silent mantra.
And then he looked up.
Right into the eyes of Laney Beckett. Of course he’d had to go and look at her, sitting right in the center of one of the bleachers and well under the awning, thankfully. Grant and Carol sat on one side of her and Jo and Frank Spencer on the other, protectively sandwiching her in their love.
Maybe if he just kept walking...
But Laney had seen him. He couldn’t very well not acknowledge her, especially since it appeared she’d been intently watching him, maybe for some time now.
Of course she had.
The moment their gazes met, his legs stopped working of their own accord. He might as well have been frozen in ice. He couldn’t move a muscle. His whole body deserted him at the worst possible time.
He couldn’t breathe. Couldn’t blink.
She waved, but it was a jerky motion. She paled and dropped her arm, then leaned in to whisper in Carol’s ear.
Carol smiled and nodded as Laney rose to her feet and began tenuously making her way to the edge of the bleachers, where she could ostensibly climb down, were she not ridiculously pregnant. The bleachers made for shaky stadium seating at best and not anywhere near safe enough for Laney to be crawling around up there.
Heat burned through him, instantly melting his deep freeze. He didn’t even think about his next move. Instinctively, he tucked his head and ran for all he was worth, reaching the bleachers just as she crossed to the edge.
Her eyes widened when he put his arms up to catch her. She was only a few feet from the ground, but it was too far for her to jump on her own in her condition. Her only other option was to pick her way step by step through a crowd of people.
He smiled and nodded his encouragement to her. She shook her head and her full lips curved up at the corners, but it was the glint in her wide eyes that communicated without words how crazy she thought his antics were.
So she thought it was a terrible idea. What was new? She always thought his ideas were bad. Too bad, because it was happening. He might not be able to do anything about her state of mind during the bull ride, but he could see her safely to the ground right now.
He would never let this woman down again.
“Come on, princess,” he said, stretching his arms even higher. She could practically lean down and touch him if she tried.
But it wasn’t about that. Not for him, and not for her.
It was about trust.
It reminded him of a game he’d played in his high school psychology class. Teammates had had to take turns falling backward into the other’s arms. The whole point was knowing their partners would be there to catch them.
Trust.
Of course, at the time, he’d dipped his partner—a cute girl—nearly to the floor and then swept her back up again at the very last second, making her scream and squeal when she thought she was going to hit the ground. But he hadn’t let her fall.
Hadn’t happened then, and most certainly wouldn’t happen now.
Laney narrowed her gaze on him and planted her fists on her hips. “You’d better catch me, mister.”
He grinned up at her, and for one second he was completely in the moment, thinking neither of his past or of the ride to come.
Only Laney, with her beautiful chocolate-brown eyes and ready smile and a laugh that would make any man weak in the knees.
“Are you gonna jump, princess, or am I gonna have to come up after you?”
She didn’t hesitate any longer, but launched herself into his arms. He’d expected to catch her under her shoulders and set her quickly and gently to the ground, but somehow they got all tangled up in each other—arms, legs and baby bump. Her face was buried in his chest, right next to his rapidly beating heart. His nose brushed across her hair. It was impossible not to breathe in the alluring woodsy scent of her perfume.
Every thought left his head and he knew if he didn’t step away immediately—running away might be the safer choice—he would succumb to the inevitable and make a huge spectacle of both himself and Laney, in a crowd of people so dense they would have no possible chance of getting away with it unnoticed. And in a town like Serendipity, it only took one person’s observation for gossip to spread like a Texas grass fire.
He stumbled back, intent on getting a handle on his emotions before they led him far astray, but she reached for his hand, gripping it tightly as she pulled him to a more private spot behind the bleachers.
Bad idea, going behind the bleachers. A very, very bad idea.
Laney had no way of knowing Slade’s reputation for his “youthful indiscretions” behind the bleachers back in high school, but if she kept this up, she was about to find out.
Up close and personal.
And then she’d deck him, no doubt. He’d had it coming for a long while now.
Could he help it if every nerve ending in his body was crackling? If his senses were swimming, stealing both his breath and his thoughts away from him?
All he could manage was to try to grasp what little was left of his sanity and hope that she couldn’t hear the rapid pounding of his heart. His pulse was roaring in his ears so he didn’t know how Laney could possibly not be aware of it, especially when she turned to him and laid her palm on his chest, right over his heart.
She gazed up at him, smiling softly, and he saw an impish sparkle in her gaze that could only mean—
She didn’t. She couldn’t.
Not with him.
He must be misinterpreting the signs. This wasn’t the right time or place. And he wasn’t the right man for her. He could never be. And the baby—even if he and Laney could ever work out, it would never be about them alone. They both had Brody’s baby to consider, and not as an afterthought.
They’d both loved Brody. And he had loved them.
But now, God forgive him, but he could no less deny his feelings for Laney than he could stop his heart from beating or the sun from shining.
The way she was looking at him was more than he could handle, more than any man could handle, no matter what his strength. And Slade was definitely not a strong enough man to resist. His stomach fluttered and his legs trembled when she looked up at him that way. Her eyes were welcoming and her lips parted, practically begging to be kissed.
She closed the distance between them, and jumped into the gap his hesitance had created.
“I don’t know whether or not you’ve heard the news, cowboy,” she said in a rich, flirtatious tone that made him feel as if he was floating a good ten feet above the ground, “but someone put my name in the hat for me to be Serendipity’s rodeo princess.”
Her gaze playfully accused him and he gave his shoulders a light shrug.
“Always said you were a princess.” His voice sounded terrible, high and squeaky, cracking as if he was a kid in the middle of puberty. He tried to smile but even that came out feeling awkward and cheesy.
It was one thing to be rid of his youthful foolishness, those character traits that had put him into a long string of difficulties of his own making. He had given little thought to the women he’d dated, making the best use of his charm and then walking away.
Now the tables were turned and he didn’t like it one bit. Laney had turned him into a rambling idiot, made considerably worse by the meaningful smile she flashed him. She knew exactly what she was doing to his senses, and she clearly liked the power it gave her over him. She could lead him by the nose and he’d follow her anywhere.
“I’m perfectly aware of who threw my name into the hat, Prince Charming. Thanks a lot, by the way. I’m going to look like a moose out there on that truck. It would have been far better to leave the princessing to a young woman who could actually ride a horse.”
“You,” he disagreed, tapping the end of her nose, “will be absolutely beautiful out there. There’s not a woman in Texas who could hope to hold a candle to you.”
She actually appeared a little insecure at his heartfelt declaration, and suddenly he very much wanted to prove to her just how special she was. He’d gotten her into this situation in the first place, so it seemed only right that—
His thoughts vanished as he looked down at her and realized she’d tipped her chin upward and was standing very...very...close.
Waiting to be kissed?
He didn’t know exactly how long he’d been waiting for this moment, but now he realized it was a lengthy time in coming. There had been so many barriers. Brody. The baby. The fact that she couldn’t stand the sight of him when they’d first met. His own harsh feelings toward her. The way they’d tussled with each other.
Somehow, all of that had led up to this moment. Everything except Laney faded into the mist before him. Just him and this beautiful woman.
Just the two of them.
“Laney,” he murmured huskily, running his fingers from her jaw to her chin, his thumbs brushing the soft stretch of skin on her cheekbones. “Princess. Look at me.”
He wanted her to see who she was kissing, wanted her to know whose heart would never be the same after this moment.
When she looked at him, he knew beyond a doubt what she was seeing. She was seeing him, with all his vulnerabilities exposed, his strengths and weaknesses and mistakes and pain bared for her.
And love.
Her gaze reflected his, and as he bent his head and pressed his lips to hers, he could only thank God for giving him the opportunity to make his world right.
The taste of her lips, the peach flavor of her lip gloss, tugged his thoughts further from him, replacing them with all the emotions that up until now he’d been suppressing, not allowing himself to feel.
He slanted his head to deepen the kiss, then removed his hat and tossed it onto the dirt at his feet without a second thought, except that he needed to be as close to this woman as was humanly possible.
From now on he wouldn’t let any barriers—physical or emotional—get in their way.
* * *
For as large and muscular a man as Slade was, his embrace was incredibly gentle. His touch was soft and his kiss was tender, both giving and taking, seeking the meaning of the moment and giving it.
This wasn’t some young man taking what he wanted and leaving nothing in return. Slade was offering her his all.
And oh, how much she wanted to give him. So much she didn’t know how to express—the way he’d stolen into her life as stealthily as a thief, not carrying off her heart but joining it to his.
Slade didn’t try to push his advantage, though she knew full well that was how he would have acted in the past. Rather, he let her set the pace, letting her taste the depth of his emotion, only to draw back and make her chase for it.
She ran her hands down his powerful shoulders. Her fingers lingered over the strength and definition of his biceps. His arms quivered beneath her touch, and she wondered how difficult it was for him to rein in his emotions.
She knew how she felt—like a princess, glimmering and sparkling and galloping across an open field with the sun shining down on her.
She cupped his face in her hands, reveling in the scent of leather, the scratchy texture of his whiskers against her palms, the firm strength of his jaw and the myriad of feelings tumbling through her. Some were emotions she’d never thought to feel again, and others were brand-new to her.
He kissed her forehead and her cheeks and then bent his head, holding her close. His breath was heavy and he was shaking—or maybe she was the one quivering.
“Slade,” she murmured, desperate to put words to the emotions she was experiencing. She stretched her consciousness to wrap her thoughts around the sounds in her mind but all she could seem to find was his name.
He murmured a guttural response that was not quite a word. It gave her a certain sense of satisfaction that their kiss had apparently left the same mark on Slade as it had on her, that he was as tongue-tied as she felt.
“Princess.” He had more success with his words this time and he tightened his embrace around her.
Laney smiled into his chest, finally ready to hear what he had to tell her, how he felt about her. And then she could share all the beautiful emotions she felt for him. The future stretched before them, but they were no longer alone. They would figure it out between the two of them—the three of them.
“I pulled Night Terror.” His words came out in an abrasive rush, pelting her with their sharp edges.
She gasped and pulled away from him. She’d opened herself up to him, exposed her very heart to him, and he’d been doing—what?
Buttering her up so his news would slide down easier? Catching her on the easy side of what could arguably be one of the worst days of her life? The calm before the storm?
How dare he?
She chose anger over showing how hurt she felt, because anger kept her going while the pain she was experiencing might well cripple her.
He winced and ran a palm back over his hair, then reached for his hat, tapping the dust off of it before planting it firmly on his head, adjusting the brim low over electric blue eyes that were sparking fire.
“Why didn’t you tell me?” she managed to choke out.
“I’m telling you now. I just found out a little while ago.”
“But you thought it was perfectly acceptable to sneak in a kiss before laying that bolt from the blue on me, huh?
“Sneak? I wasn’t—”
“I don’t want to hear it, Slade.” She didn’t want to hear anything that passed through his deceitful lips. Her heart was ripping, one agonizing piece after another, and not only because he’d played her for a fool, stringing her along like the rest of his buckle bunnies.
No, it was because she was so incredibly angry with herself. She had completely fallen for his well-chorded tune, believed he was a changed man, one who could be depended on when the going got tough.
Someone she could fall in love with.
His jaw tightened and his gaze narrowed on her.
“Princess?” She found it ironic that his voice appeared laced with concern. He reached for her elbows as if to steady her.
She flinched inwardly, though outwardly she remained steady and unmoving. Her first impulse was to jerk her arms from his touch, which was gentle yet firm enough to keep her stable and upright. She resisted the compulsion and chose to stare him down instead. He could only hurt her if she let him, and she was too strong to let that happen.
When she got back home at the Becketts’ ranch, locked securely in her own room, then she had no doubt she’d break down. But she’d hold herself together until then. She’d faced worse circumstances than the hulking cowboy looming over her with a semblance of worry lining his features.
Fool me once...
“You are as white as a sheet,” he said, tilting his head to better meet her gaze. “You aren’t going to pass out on me now, are you, princess?”
“Of course not,” she snapped back. “And don’t call me princess.”
He pressed his lips together and shifted his gaze over her left shoulder.
“Um, excuse me” came a heavily accented Texan’s voice from where Slade was looking. She glanced back to find Ian James, standing with his hat in his hands and shifting from one booted foot to another. His gaze was apologetic but his lips were quirking with amusement.
Great. Just great. Now she’d been caught behind the bleachers with a man whose reputation had to be as tarnished as old silver. To the uninformed observer, she and Slade would definitely appear to be in a compromising position.
She jerked out of Slade’s grasp and turned to Ian. She tipped her chin and raised her brows, offering what she hoped was a confident smile.
“Sorry to interrupt, but Slade, the rodeo’s about to start and the guys were wondering where you’d gotten off to.”
“I’ll be right there, Cap,” Slade assured the man.
Ian nodded and briskly headed in the opposite direction without looking back. Laney had the impression he was trying to give them one last moment of privacy to finish what he probably took for a romantic interlude. How wrong could a man be? Other than the very great desire to wring his neck, Laney wanted nothing to do with Slade McKenna.
There was nothing left to say between them, and the sooner she got out of here and back to her seat, the better off she would be.
Yet no matter how angry she was with Slade, she couldn’t put her worry aside over the danger he was about to face. Regardless of what had transpired between them or how negatively she viewed him now, she wasn’t positive she could watch him ride Night Terror. The very thought made her stomach queasy.
She’d deal with it. She would deal. What other choice did she have?
“Laney—” Slade’s hand snaked out to grab hers.
“We have nothing left to say to one another,” she informed him without turning.
Rather than use his greater strength to turn her toward him, he slipped around her so they were face-to-face.
“Say the word,” he said, his tone as sober as if he were taking a vow.
“Say what?”
“If you don’t want me to ride Night Terror, I’ll walk away from it.”
Was he serious? He’d willingly give up something he’d been working on, maybe even dreamed about, ever since his best friend’s death?
For her?
Part of her wanted to rail at him, tell him she didn’t care one way or another whether he rode the stupid bull or not. Another part of her, the part ruled by a deep-seated longing for him that wouldn’t go away, by emotions that confirmed that she harbored feelings that she didn’t want to address, wanted to beg him to hang up his hat without riding.
But then his gaze met hers—those amazing, expressive blue eyes—and she saw that they were filled with longing. Pain. Compassion. And most of all, determination.
Suddenly she knew he would indeed walk away from his ride if she asked him to do it, and with just as much certainty, she realized she could not ask him to do so.
She had Brody’s baby to honor Brody’s life, cut short before he even knew he was going to be a father.
Slade only had this ride, this tribute to his friend, to the sport that had been such an important part of Brody’s life.
For all Slade’s faults, he had loved Brody and deserved this chance to honor his friend in the way he saw fit. She couldn’t ask him to walk away from this now.
“No,” she said before she lost her nerve.
“No, you don’t want me to ride?” Disappointment flashed over his features but he quickly schooled them.
She shook her head. “No, I don’t want you to give up your ride because of me. Go ride Night Terror, Slade. You give that bull the what-for. Do it for Brody.”
Slade adjusted the crown of his hat and jerked his chin to acknowledge her words. “For Brody.”
He strode off without another glance in her direction. Maybe he thought she might change her mind if he looked back. Her throat closed around her hammering heart as she watched him turn the corner of the bleachers and disappear out of sight.
“Please, God, keep him safe.”
Because she loved him.
It didn’t matter what he’d done, or if he’d played fast and loose with her emotions. It didn’t matter if his attention wandered elsewhere the moment his eight seconds were past, or even if he’d ever really cared for her at all.
The only thing that mattered right now was that he stayed safe. She would deal with what was or wasn’t between them later.
The crowd had grown considerably and it was harder for her to make her way up the bleachers, but folks were very accommodating to her bulky, awkward frame, scooting out of the way to give her better footing. Many of the men even offered her a steadying hand on her way up to her seat between Carol and Jo.
“We were starting to wonder if Slade had carried you off,” Carol teased.
Heat fused to Laney’s cheekbones and it was all she could do to keep her face from crumpling.
“Oh, no,” Jo said, tsking and shaking her head. “What is it, dear? You look terrible. Is it the baby?”
Laney shook her head and concentrated on calming her roiling stomach by focusing on Jo’s self-made T-shirt. Love Me Some Texas Cowboys.
Yeah, not so much. Laney would prefer almost anything but that. As if she had any choice in the matter. The heart loved what the heart loved with no mind to what made any sense.
“The baby is fine,” she managed to say. “It’s Slade.”
Grant and Frank leaned forward to join in the conversation.
“What about Slade?” Grant asked with a reassuring smile.
“He pulled Night Terror. I think that’s what he wanted. He’d riding Brody’s bull.”
“Oh, my,” Carol breathed, her face paling.
Instantly filled with remorse over the abrupt way she’d spilled the information about someone she knew the Becketts viewed as a second son, Laney reached for Carol’s hands. “I’m so sorry. I was only thinking of myself. I can’t imagine—” Tears sprang to her eyes and her sentence faded to silence.
“No. It’s just as well I know now,” Carol said, straightening her shoulders and offering a weak smile. “I knew it was Slade’s wish for his last ride to be on Night Terror. I pray he bests that bull, for Brody’s sake—and for his own.”
“His own?” Laney repeated.
“Remember, Slade was there the night of Brody’s accident. Maybe riding Night Terror will rid Slade of his own nightmares.” Carol squeezed Laney’s hands reassuringly. “It’s time for all of us to move forward with our lives. That’s what Brody would have wanted.”
Carol gave her a knowing look that Laney didn’t even try to misinterpret. Carol was completely aware that feelings were growing between her and Slade.
She hoped the Becketts wouldn’t be too disappointed to discover Slade was only passing through on his way to greener pastures.
The rodeo started and despite the anxiety hanging over her head, Laney found herself getting caught up in the excitement, the pageantry of roping and riding and barrels and bareback. She was glad she didn’t have to report for her stint as rodeo princess until the very end, after the bull riding.
When Ian announced bull riding as the next event, Carol and Jo each took one of her hands. She was surrounded by love and support, and what woman could ask for more? The Becketts were her family now, and Jo like a beloved aunt.
“He’s been riding bulls since he was knee high to a grasshopper,” Frank assured her in the scratchy voice of an older man. “He’ll be fine, Laney. Mark my words.”
Her heart in her throat, she observed the first three bull riders take their turns. It was crazy scary stuff, with the bulls kicking and turning every which way, a completely different experience than watching the bucking broncs. Two of the three cowboys couldn’t keep their seats for more than a couple of seconds, and getting themselves off the bulls appeared every bit as dangerous as the rides themselves.
And Slade wasn’t riding just any bull. He was riding Night Terror.
She strained to see him over the top of the bullpens and finally spotted him as he crawled over the gate to get situated on Night Terror. Already, the pen was shaking from the unpredictable movements of the animal within.
She couldn’t catch a breath as she watched him, but neither could she look away. Even at a distance she could see the tension rippling over his neck and shoulders and the intensity of his expression. He made a magnificent picture astride the bull, a cowboy among cowboys as he made last minute adjustments to his seat and his grip.
He was all man. All cowboy. No wonder he had women falling at his feet.
Then he nodded and the gate opened.
Laney wanted to cover her eyes but she simply couldn’t look away.
Night Terror lived up to his name. She’d never seen such a ferocious beast. The bull was determined to shake Slade off his back. Night Terror threw his head and his back feet simultaneously, turned first one way and then the other without letting up, planting all four feet at once and then leaping into the air, bucking wildly.
Slade somehow adjusted to every movement like the trained athlete he was. Laney was marking the seconds with the beating of her heart, but still the buzzer failed to ring.
Surely it had been eight seconds. Where was the buzzer?
Suddenly Night Terror turned and charged at the wall.
Time stopped. Laney’s prayers intensified, though she hardly knew she was praying at all. There was only Slade and Night Terror, locked in a deadly dance.
The bull turned at the last second, just before slamming Slade into the wall. Night Terror appeared to recover just a hairbreadth before Slade could completely recover his balance, and shot for the wall a second time. The two bullfighters in the arena were trying to prevent that from happening, but the bull seemed unaware of the horses or the hollering, hat-waving cowboys. His only intent appeared to be getting Slade off his back any way he could.
Laney stood, crying out for Slade. The crowd rose also, screaming their approval of Slade’s ride.
The buzzer.
It had sounded, hadn’t it? Just before Night Terror had charged the wall that second time? Or was Laney just so desperate to have Slade safe that she’d imagined it?
But no. Laney breathed a sigh of relief as Slade accepted the assistance of one of the bullfighters to get himself off the bull, then jogged over to retrieve his hat, which he’d lost during the first jarring second of the ride.
He waved his hat in the air to acknowledge the roaring crowd, then settled it on his head, found Laney’s gaze and tipped his hat to her.
Prince Charming.
His dedication reminded her of all those stories she’d read of knights winning their jousting matches in order to win their lady’s favor.
He’d just acknowledged her in front of everyone. They’d been seen together enough throughout the past few weeks that she doubted anyone would doubt his intentions.
His princess.
Princess. She’d completely forgotten that she was supposed to meet the production team behind the stable so they could parade her around the arena in the back of a pickup truck.
Serendipity’s rodeo princess.
Slade’s princess.
No matter how much she denied it, that was what really mattered.
She scrambled down from the bleachers as fast as she could in her condition, with more excuse me’s and pardon me’s than she cared to count.
She rounded the end of the bleachers at a full-out jog and ran smack-dab into the middle of a broad chest. The heartening scent of leather and cowboy assaulted her. The arms that snaked around her waist were familiar and reassuring.
Slade.
She hugged him tight and he chuckled. “Good to see you, too. Goin’ somewhere, princess?”
“You did it!” She hugged him even harder, not wanting to let him go even for a moment. Never mind that earlier she’d completely written him off—or at least thought he was done with her. “You rode Night Terror.”
“Of course I did,” he responded with that confident, jaunty smile that made her insides melt. It was so—Slade. “Was there ever any doubt?”
“No. Yes. I’m just glad you’re safe.”
“That makes two of us,” he agreed, then slid his hands up to her shoulders and pointed her in the direction of the arena’s entrance. “Now if I don’t miss my guess, there are some folks waiting for your pretty face and sparkling personality to make your Serendipity debut.”
Instead of letting her go, he slid a familiar, comfortable arm around her shoulders and walked with her, even extending his assistance to sweeping her off her feet and depositing her in the back of the truck.
“Have a care, princess. Don’t fall off.”
She wrinkled her nose at him, then held her hand out to him just as the truck started moving away.
“I’m proud of you,” she whispered as their fingers slid apart. “And so is Brody.”