Get Bucked (The Valentine Boys 4)

“This isn’t an RV. This is the grandma of travel trailers. The one all the old people that are rich want when they go to Florida for the weekend,” I muttered, eyes taking in everything.

There were two full-size couches. A mini bar. A fire place.

“What do you think the bedroom looks like?” he asked.

We both moved as one, eyes taking in the full-sized bathroom.

“No tiny little mini-shower here,” I murmured. “And the toilet actually flushes like a normal toilet.”

Darby hummed as he continued to move, stopping short when he got to the entrance of the bedroom.

“Wow,” he said. “Is that a full-size washer and dryer?”

“It sure looks like it.” I blinked rapidly. “And a king-sized bed with actual room to walk around? This isn’t like any trailer that I’ve ever been in before.”

Darby took a running jump toward the bed and bounced twice before settling in deep.

I was much more circumspect as I climbed into the bed beside him, lying down and curling into myself so I didn’t touch him anywhere.

He moved over a tad, and I stretched out my legs, inadvertently touching his calf with my foot.

I almost wished that I had my shoes off so I could feel the heat of his skin.

“Wow,” he said. “I don’t know who the hell donated this bitch, but winning it would be the bomb.”

“It would,” I murmured. “I wouldn’t even bother fixing up the house if I got this.”

“Me neither,” he agreed. “This thing is big enough to fit a family of eight in it comfortably.”

“Did you see the mini pigs for sale on the way over here?” I asked, my face smooshed into the pillow.

“Yeah,” he said. “They were cute. Would make great tasting bac—”

I slapped him upside the head with a pillow, causing him to laugh.

“That was not funny, jerk,” I told him, a laugh tinging my voice. “Oh my God. I cannot believe you just said that.”

He didn’t move the pillow off of his head, causing me to feel sorry for slapping him with it. So, I removed it for him, checking out his face while I did it.

His eye crept open and he stared at me.

“Your fangirls know you’re here,” I told him. “And your brother’s here. I heard that at the concession stand as we walked past. Are you going to be okay with him?”

Darby shrugged. “I’m fine.”

He closed down, and I didn’t like it.

“Who’s going to shovel out the stalls for you this weekend?” I asked curiously.

He shook his head. “The hands do it on the weekend. I do it during the week. They won’t notice. They probably think that it’s the hands doing it right now anyway.”

“I doubt that,” I admitted. “I saw the blinds flicker today as we were doing it. Someone knows that you’re there.”

“Probably Desi,” he muttered, closing his eye once again. “She’s the one who gets up early to cook breakfast.”

I wouldn’t think that Desi would keep something like Darby coming to still do his duties secret from her husband.

But I knew when a subject was off-limits, and this one definitely was.

***

The first night at the rodeo has this air about it.

There’s excitement and laughing, and everyone is feeling the adrenaline pour through them.

“Our first rider of the night is Talon Daniels and he’ll be riding Little Red Riding Hood,” I called into the microphone.

“You could try to sound a little more enthusiastic,” Darby whispered into my ear.

I rolled my eyes and pinched him on the arm as he buckled on his chaps.

“Talon is a two-time junior national rodeo champion for the past two years. This is his first year competing in…” I droned on as Talon got settled on the back of his bull.

Darby finished with his chaps, snatched up his hat, and then hopped over the railing that separated him from the arena.

For the rest of the night, that was where he’d be.

He pointed at a Gatorade that was sitting next to me and I handed it to him.

He took a quick swig and then moseyed out farther into the arena, dirt flying from his spurs as he moved.

I swallowed hard as I checked out the man’s ass.

Soon Jim took over as Talon and his bull were set free of the gates, and I was able to watch Darby without worrying about having to actually say something.

He moved, eyes watchful, as he waited for the kid to be bucked off of the bull.

Eventually it happened, and Darby moved, drawing the bull’s attention. The other two men, names that I couldn’t recall at that moment in time, moved, too.

But that wasn’t anything at this point because my eyes were totally and irrevocably glued to only one man.

Not the bull rider. Not the other two very hot, very single guys. But Darby.

The bull bucked all the way into the chute, leaving Darby laughing.