Rough (Wolf Ranch 1)

“What? No way. I can’t go on that thing.” Nervously, I tucked my hair behind my ears.

“Sure, you can.”

I shook my head. “No, Boyd. I can’t.”

He frowned. “Why not?”

His light eyes held mine. He wasn’t joking with me, he seriously didn’t understand.

“I’ll go, Boyd.” A pretty young thing came up to the rail and gave Boyd a I’ll ride the mechanical bull now and show you my moves so I can ride you later look. She was tall, thin, big boobed and left nothing to hide beneath her clothing choice. Painted on jeans. A plaid button up that was missing half the buttons and tied in a neat little bow over her bare belly. A belly that should have a label like cottage cheese that said Fat Free!

“You know I’m good for a wild ride,” she added, as she kicked one leg over the fence. She straddled it, paused and winked—gag!—then flung her other over and made her way up and onto the bull. I could have sworn Boyd growled, but it was hidden a little by my hatred by little Miss Perfect and Slutty. She winked, not at Boyd, but at me.

Yeah, I hated her.

She signaled and the bull started up. She moved with the machine’s forward and backward motion. She’d done this before, but I knew that. She was not a virgin at anything.

People lined the rail to clap and cheer but also to probably watch and see if her breasts popped from the limited confines of her shirt. The ride lasted longer than eight seconds and so did the button dexterity on her top. She climbed down and sauntered our way. Yes, sauntered.

“That’s how it’s done.”

Yeah. Total bitch.

“Want to go for our own ride now, Boyd?” she purred.

Boyd looked to me and shook his head. “Nope. I’ve got what I want right here.”

I couldn’t see her around Boyd’s body, but I heard her huff.

“Don’t you want to go off with her?” I asked.

He frowned down at me, didn’t even look Total Bitch’s way when she stomped off.

“Why would I want to do that?” he asked.

“Um, because she’s gorgeous and is way more skilled than I am.” I wasn’t just talking about riding a bull.

“Oh, when you get going, you’re pretty wild yourself,” he countered, reaching up and stroking my cheek.

I narrowed my eyes at the simple gesture. “Yeah, well. Me, yesterday. Her, today. It’s fine.”

I started to turn away, but he spun me back with a gentle grip on my upper arm. “No, it’s not fine. I think I’ve been pretty clear that I want you. Only you. What makes you think I’m into bed hopping?”

I pushed my glasses up my face and stared at him. “Um, because you do. Bed hop, I mean.”

He rubbed the back of his neck and glanced away. “Okay, in the past. But that was then. This is now.”

“You’re reformed? What, did you hit your head when you fell off that bull?” I wondered.

“When a guy meets the right girl.” He looked over his shoulder and signaled to Russell. “Your turn. I want to see what you’ve got.”

“Boyd, I can’t.”

“Audrey, you can.”

“Boyd, I’m wearing a skirt.”

He looked down. Stared at my skirt. My legs. And stared some more. “Yes, you are.”

“Boyd—” I began, then saw Total Bitch leaning against the rail, smirking. She wasn’t right behind Boyd but close enough that I knew she was waiting for her chance to pounce.

Fine. I couldn’t turn into a supermodel, but I could get on the back of a mechanical bull and show her I had some moves of my own. False pride, for sure. But a woman had to do what a woman had to do.

Maybe Boyd saw the shift in me, the determination, because he set his hands on my hips and lifted me up and over the rail as if I weighed nothing. I stared down the bull as if it were real and not mechanical.

“Climb up there,” Boyd instructed.

I made my way onto the padding, careful not to flash anyone. Fortunately, my skirt hit just a few inches above my knee, not the tiny Band-Aid sized ones some ladies were wearing. When I stood beside the bull, I looked over my shoulder. I had no idea how to get on it. There was no way to toss my leg over, not unless I wanted to chuck my modesty right along with it.

Boyd swung himself over the rail and climbed up beside me. He leaned down and cupped his hands together to make a step. “Put your left foot here, then swing your right over.”

People were shouting and hollering for me to hop on, but Boyd didn’t pay them any attention. I looked at him for a second, then at his clasped hands. He wasn’t making fun of me. He was helping. I wasn’t sure if he wanted me to do this for him or for myself. I knew I was doing this for myself, not Boyd. I wasn’t going to feel less than Total Bitch. I might fall off the stupid fake animal, but at least I tried. And as long as my skirt didn’t ride up to my waist when I did it, I’d be able to remain in town instead of moving to a different state.