Chasin' Eight (Rough Riders 11)

“Why?”

“After we leave here tomorrow, you wanna head to Yellowstone for a few days? No rodeo, just you’n me playing tourist?”

“That sounds like heaven.”

“Good.” He slapped her butt. “I’m gonna grab a soda out of the vending machine. Want one?”

“Sure.”

The phone call from Marnie deflated her good mood. She debated on answering, but she’d rather get it over with because she’d been expecting—dreading—this call for days. “Hey, Marnie.”

“Ava, dear, I have news. The Richfield casting agency has gotten you a reading for a new sitcom.”

At least Marnie never made small talk. “Is this for a pilot?” There was no guarantee a pilot would be picked up by any TV network and she considered auditioning a waste of time.

“It’s not a pilot. It’s already been approved and will air on the CW as a mid-season show. Granted, it has a limited episode run, but that works in our favor.”

Say no.

Say yes, you idiot. Haven’t you had enough time tooling around the countryside with Chase? You need to get back to your real life.

“Ava, sweetie, are you still there?”

“Yes. Sorry. Thanks, but I’ll pass on this one.” God. Was she making a mistake? How much would Marnie have to cajole her to get her to cave in?

A lot. She wasn’t ready to walk away from Chase yet.

“Well. I wasn’t expecting that. However, it’s your decision. I’ll figure out a way to decline the audition, although, you should know I really put myself out there for you, Ava.”

“Well, that is your job. Take care.” And she hung up as Chase entered the room.

“Who was on the phone?”

“Hannah.” Fibbing didn’t feel right, but Chase would insist she go back to LA. Even when he wasn’t the only reason she’d said no. Her gaze flicked to her laptop. She’d made progress on her project and hoped to have something tangible to show Chase in the next week, especially since he’d mentioned her secretiveness about it today.

“Is everything all right?”

“Yes. But save the soda for later. Right now I need a beer.”

At the rodeo grounds they scarfed down Indian tacos and drank beer. They chose seats at the top of the bleachers, away from the main crowd.

Chase watched her digging in her bag. “I’m surprised you brought your cameras.”

“My cinematography efforts haven’t been solely focused on you, you know.” She wanted to video Ryan’s ride. The long angle from the stands would be a nice contrast to the rest of the footage she’d shot.

She fiddled with the zoom function. Looky there. Two well-endowed buckle bunnies, with puffy blonde hair, and skin-tight jeans waiting for cowboys. “Are these painted chickies your type?” She held the camera close so he could check them out.

“They were my type.”

“You would’ve taken them both on at once?”

Chase looked at her evenly. “We’ve talked about my past, Ava. Why the questions now?”

“I was just curious if your preference for girl-on-girl action is out of your system or if…”

“If some night I’ll bring another woman into our bed and expect you to be all right with getting down and dirty with her just to please me?”

His emphasis on our bed sounded permanent. She didn’t focus on that, just offered him a shrug. “Maybe.”

Then Chase was right in her face. “I’d never demand something from you that makes you uncomfortable. And no one, man or woman, gets to put their hands on you, because in case you haven’t noticed? When it comes to you? I. Don’t. Fucking. Share.”

A tingle heated her blood at his blatant possessiveness.

“Any other questions?” he asked in that rough rasp.

“Ah, no. I’m good.” Ava’s attempts at taping the rodeo events were half-assed because she kept sneaking looks at Chase. The man she loved. And where her eye went, her camera lens followed.

He sighed. “Will you please get that goddamn thing outta my face?”

“But yours is such a gorgeous face, beyond compare really. Broody. Masculine. Sexy with that perpetual five o’clock shadow. I love how your hat shades your eyes. And when you’re a little pissy, that muscle along your jawbone jumps and I just wanna sink my teeth into it.”

“Ava—”

“I can compliment you if I want, McKay, so suck it up.”

Chase laughed.

“You know, as I’ve been taping your handsome self, I realized I have the perfect job for you if you don’t get a call back from the PBR.”

“And what’s that?”

“Movie and TV stunt man.”

Chase turned and looked at her as if she’d lost her mind.

“I know some people in the business, if you’re interested. I can hook you up.”

“Has it escaped your notice that I’m a little on the short side of, oh, not bein’ tall, dark and handsome?”

“Now that you mention it, I’m usually too busy staring and drooling over all those eye-popping muscles of yours to worry if you measure up, because you’re beyond any standard scale.”

“How many beers have you had to get so much honey to drip outta your sweet mouth?”

She knocked into him with her shoulder. “You are forgetting a couple of key points, Mr. Negative.”

His lips twitched. “What’s that, Pollyanna?”

“Most guys in Hollywood are short. These days few guys are as big as the old action stars like Dolph Lundgren and Arnold Schwartzeneger.”

“Yeah? What about Vin Diesel?”

“Don’t distract me by making me name specific actors who don’t hit the six foot mark.”

“I’m a solid five inches below the six foot benchmark, sugar.”

“Alls I’m saying is you could find work if you wanted to switch your occupation.” Then she looked away.

Chase curled his hand around her jaw, forcing her to meet his blue gaze. “And where would I live if I relocated to LA?”

She didn’t hesitate. “With me.”

A couple of seconds passed before he kissed her hard. Twice. “I’ll take it under consideration.” He slipped his hand into hers and tugged her closer. “Now can we watch the damn rodeo?”

When bull riding started, he gave her space to tape.

Taz stayed on and ended up with a score of eighty. Two other riders reached the eight-second mark but scored below seventy-nine. Three riders hit the dirt and Ryan was up next.