Chute Yeah (The Valentine Boys 3)

She scoffed.

“What are…”

“Can I get y’all something else?” the waitress asked.

I tipped my chin down to look into Candy’s eyes. “Blueberry muffin or banana nut?”

Candy’s mouth tipped up at the edges.

“Blueberry. Always.”Chapter 14Can you imagine your family member going through your phone after you pass away and thinking, “this nasty bitch.”

-Candy to Banks

Candy

A man in Wranglers is hot.

A man in Wranglers and chaps is even hotter.

It’s science, really.

See, the Wranglers do the hard stuff with all the lifting and tightening. They hug the booty to perfection.

Then the chaps are the cleanup. They frame the ass nicely, give you something solid to focus on, and ultimately draw the eyes to where the leather didn’t cover.

And boy, howdy—yes, I was getting the lingo down now that I was an official bull rider’s girlfriend—were my eyes drawn.

There were a lot of things I could say that I liked about rodeos… but the chaps and Wrangler asses were my favorites.

One of those asses in particular being my most favorite.

“Who are you here watching?” a girl on my right asked.

I looked over at her, seeing that she was about twenty at most, and shrugged.

“My boyfriend, Banks,” I answered. “He’s the one in the black cowboy hat leaning over the pen.”

The girl sucked in a breath.

“Holy shit,” she breathed. “You get to take all that man flesh to bed every night?”

Actually, yes. Yes, I did.

At least I had for the last couple of days, anyway.

I smiled as I looked down at my laptop, clicking away at the online orders, making sure that everything was getting filled and our manager was doing her job.

She actually looked as if she was rocking it, which made me happy, and not feel quite as bad leaving both Desi and Kasey to handle the angry hoard of customers who were still quite sad and pissy with us for closing our doors and completely redoing the shop.

“He’s just delicious,” the girl said. “My name is Waylynn. My dad is a bullfighter. He’s the one dressed in all black.”

I looked to where she was pointing, and I smiled.

“I think I talked to him yesterday,” I said. “Do you go to all of these rodeos often?”

She shook her head. “No. My dad and I are close, but he’s too busy driving around with the circuit. Me, on the other hand? I’m about two semesters away from graduating with my engineering degree from the University of Houston.”

My brows rose.

“My boyfriend’s brother’s going to school for that, too,” I said. “Kind of. I think. He’s actually going for engineering, but he’s minoring in agriculture, or something. I’m not totally sure. I just know that he’s going to a shit ton of classes.”

“Darby.”

I looked over at her, surprised at the woman’s tone.

“You don’t like Darby?” I asked.

She frowned.

“I don’t like… people like Darby,” she admitted. “He works. He goes to school…but there’s just something about him. He strikes me as… bad.”

She’d just hit the nail on the head when it came to Darby Valentine, that was for sure.

“You know,” I laughed. “There’s a girl, she is the manager at my coffee shop. She hates Darby, too. Like despises him. Maybe you’d like her.”

The girl offered me a wide grin. “I’ll have to meet this girl who’s immune to the charm of Darby Valentine.” She shook her head. “God, he’s so cocky. One day he’s going to get hurt when he runs in front of those bulls, and I’m going to say ‘I told you so.’”

My lips twitched.

The girl had the hots for Darby.

“Well, you’ve introduced yourself,” I continued, holding out my hand to her. “Mine’s Candy.”

“Oh, I know your name.” the girl said.

I blinked. “So, do I have your name right? It’s Waylon?”

“No, Waylynn,” she repeated. “Like Way, but with a ‘Lynn’ attached to it. My daddy was a Waylon Jennings fan, but he thought it was too masculine for a girl, so he changed the spelling.”

I smiled.

“I kind of like it,” I admitted. “It’s pretty.”

She rolled her eyes. “If you say so.”

I winked at her and watched the first four bull riders go, all the while poking around in the shop’s web orders, as well as balancing my dad’s business checkbook.

Everything went away, however, when Banks was announced.

I watched in silence as he mounted the bull inside the chute.

He nodded once, his hat concealing his face from the rest of us, and my heart entered my throat.

When the pen’s door was thrown open, the bull shot out of there like it was his life’s mission to escape and never return.

The bull bucked, and bucked hard, twisting one way before turning midair and going the other.

Over and over he twisted and bucked until Banks had no other option but to let go.

Unfortunately for him, he landed funny when he jumped off, and the bull took full advantage, rucking him up the inside of his thigh with one horn.