Chute Yeah (The Valentine Boys 3)

Banks bellowed in anger and pain.

Luckily, all he ended up doing was barely rubbing the inside of his thigh—and I say barely because I could only guess at this point—before Banks was up and running away.

Waylynn’s father was just all of a sudden there, distracting the bull and giving Banks enough time to escape.

I was up and on my feet before I’d consciously told myself I needed to be.

Moments after that, I was pounding my way down the bleachers and then further into the underbelly of the rodeo, making my way toward where Banks was.

I found him panting beside the corral pen, face a mask of agony, hands on his knees as he tried to breathe through the pain.

“Banks!” I cried out.

Banks looked over at me, and something soft and sweet swept over his face.

Was that relief that I saw?

He stood up with a grimace just as a medic made his way toward him.

“Mr. Valentine,” the medic said, bag in hand. “Can I escort you to the medical tent?”

Banks looked as if he was about to argue, but I said, “Yes, you can. I was about to take him there myself.”

Banks’ lips turned up into a small smile as he said, “Yeah, sure thing, Check.”

Check the medic grinned. “Wasn’t sure if you’d remember my name.”

“Check’s an odd name,” Banks countered. “Not to mention you have a checkered flag on your arm to help remind me. Plus, the last time you saw me, it was because a bull nearly gored me up the asshole… so not something I’m going to forget any time soon.”

My mouth fell open.

“You nearly had a bull shove his antlers up your ass?” I asked in surprise.

Check snorted.

Banks looked at me as if I was adorably cute.

“Bulls have horns, honey,” he teased. “And yes, he nearly shoved it up my ass. Luckily, it was only a flesh wound. Went in one side of my cheek and came out the other.”

“Could’ve been way worse,” Check agreed as he gestured for us to follow. “You need a wheelchair or an assist?”

Banks shook his head, then hobbled with us toward the medic.

He received several pats on the back along the way, and even one ‘Fuck yeah. Marry me.’

“Sorry,” I told his admirer. His male admirer. “But he just signed a contract with two sponsors that made him sign a stipulation contract saying that he couldn’t marry in the next twelve months.”

The man snapped his fingers as if he was completely bummed.

“That just sucks,” he said. “I guess I’ll just admire from afar, then.”

I grinned at the man, finding that I liked his wit.

Banks found it amusing, too.

As amusing as a man that’d just nearly been gelded could find it, anyway.

Two slow, miserable minutes later, we finally made it to the medic tent where Check pointed at a table.

“Take a seat there,” he ordered. “I’m going to go grab a sterile kit… lose the pants and chaps.”

Check left before Banks could so much as agree.

I glanced at him and grinned.

“I can cut them off of you if you think they’re too tight,” I teased.

Banks rolled his eyes, then seemed to make a quick decision.

Taking his belt buckle into his hand, he made quick work of it, pulling it free and then starting in on his button and zipper.

Seconds after that, he was shoving his pants down to his ankles and taking a seat on the table.

“Here, let me help you.”

I looked up to find a female medic standing there with her hands full of supplies.

Those supplies went to the floor as she tossed them unceremoniously onto the floor and headed our way.

I would’ve told her that no, we didn’t need her help, but she didn’t even stop to talk to us.

She just started to pull his boots off.

“You can see that he’s hurt, honey,” the female medic chastised me. “I can’t believe you let him do that all on his own.”

My brows lifted.

“Honestly,” I said coolly, placing my hand against the woman’s forearm when she went for the other boot. “I would’ve helped had he asked, and there’s no reason for him to take his pants off entirely. Which means he won’t be needing his boots off. Please, step aside.”

The woman didn’t so much as budge, just went to the other boot.

“Wow.” She paused as she leaned forward and inspected the bruise that was forming on the inside of his thigh. “That’s going to bruise fairly bad.”

When she dropped his boot that finally popped free of his foot onto the ground and reached for his thigh, I’d had enough.

I stepped between the two of them, my ass going into the woman’s face, as I plastered myself up against Banks’ front and said, “Please stop touching. Check is on his way, and we seriously do not need your help.”

The woman hissed in a breath.