Chasin' Eight (Rough Riders 11)
Stop admiring the posies and make the call, chickenshit.
Chase blew out a breath and dialed. As he listened to the rings, he paced in front of the fence.
“Hello?”
“Hey, Cash. It’s Chase McKay. Remember me?”
“Chase! ’Course I remember you. How you doin’? I heard you were on the PBR’s injured list.”
“Well, not really.” He forced a laugh. “It’s a long story. One we’re keeping on the down low, if you know what I mean.”
“So why you callin’ me, hey?”
“I need your help.”
A pause. Then, “Tell you what. You give me the truth about what’s really goin’ on with the PBR and I’ll let you know if I’m willin’ to help.”
“Sounds fair.” Chase let fly.
When he finished, Cash whistled. “Ain’t nothin’ the rest of us weren’t doin’ on the road, but things are different now. But I’m confused on how you think I can help you.”
“I need to get my ridin’ back on track. It seems I’m doin’ everything the same way I always have, but that ain’t the case or my scores would be better, or at least on par, not completely in the shitter like they are now. I wondered if you’re still holding a bull ridin’ school?
“Now and again. Why? You lookin’ to go back to school?”
“Yeah.” Chase slumped against the barn. “And before you get pissy and think this is a joke, I’ll tell you I’m dead-ass serious. I need an expert to look at my ridin’ objectively and help me figure out what the devil I’m doin’ wrong.”
“Expert.” Cash snorted. “But an old-timer like me ain’t immune to such smooth bullshit.”
Chase grinned. “You had a good run, what? Almost twenty years as a pro? With my buck-off average, I’ll be goddammed lucky if I make it another two.”
“So when you thinkin’ you wanna get started?”
“Bein’s I have time off and you’ve got a ranch to run, I’ll work around your schedule.”
“Sorry. I don’t have another training session scheduled until the end of next month. That probably don’t help you.”
Not only that, Chase didn’t want to train in front of rookies. Maybe it was an ego thing. A bratty thing. But he wanted one-on-one attention to his riding issues.
Before he could say thanks and hang up, Cash said, “But if you can get here in two days, I’ll put you on as many bulls as you can handle.”
“Really? That would be great. I wasn’t sure if you’d…ah, take offense to me offering to pay for a private session.”
Cash’s laughter boomed. “McKay, if I didn’t think you could afford it I wouldn’t’ve suggested it, because it ain’t gonna be cheap. But there’s one other thing.”
Seemed there always was a catch. “What?”
“I’m bringing your cousin Colby in on this. He’s been off the rodeo circuit for a while, but he’s still a pro to the core and I trust his judgment. Two sets of eyes would be better than one, doncha think?”
“Yeah. I guess.” Of all his cousins, Colby was the second least likely to blab to other family members, right behind his cousin Kane.
“Good. There’s a bunkhouse if you need a place to stay.”
“That’ll work. Thanks, Cash, I appreciate it more than you know. I’ll see you in a couple of days.”
Soon as he hung up, Chase let out a whoop and spun around.
Ava stood in the open space between the barn and the fence. Her hands jammed in the front pockets of her hoodie, sunshine glinting off her hair. Looking so drop-dead gorgeous he almost forgot to breathe.
“That was a pretty enthusiastic whoop,” she remarked.
“I got some good news for a change.”
Ava didn’t ask him to elaborate. “You ready to rip it up on the ATV?”
Chase shook his head. “I’ve gotta eat first. Is there any food in the house?”
“Just the basic stuff I brought. Coffee, creamer, grapes, salad, bread and a couple cans of soup.”
“That’s what you call food? Please tell me you ain’t one of them actresses who starves herself to look like a heroin addict.”
“Do I look like I starve myself?”
His gaze might’ve lingered on certain curves longer than polite. “No, Hollywood, you look exactly like a woman ought to. Let’s head to town. The Shell station has the best chilidogs I’ve ever tasted.”
“Do they have tofu dogs?”
Chase’s smile fell. “Oh hell no. You’re not a vegetarian?”
“And if I was?” she intoned sweetly.
“I’d take it as my sworn duty as the son of a cattleman to send you packing off McKay land immediately.”
There was that little sexy smirk again. “Relax, cowboy. I’m a carnivore to the core. I seriously doubt Wyoming can boast the best chilidog, but I’m willing to give it a fair shake.” She pointed at him with her car keys. “You brag, you buy.”
“Deal.”
When Ava started to jerk on the handle to open the barn door, Chase gently moved her aside. He wasn’t sure if he expected to see her ripping it up in a Ferrari, but the vehicle behind the door was a letdown. A black four-door RAV4. With Colorado plates. “You didn’t drive here?”
“I flew to Denver, rented this and drove the rest of the way. So I really don’t care if you spill chili and cheese all over the seats.”
There was another glimpse of her bizarre sense of humor, which made her seem normal and not movie starish.
In Sundance, Chase pulled his sweatshirt hood over his head. “You’ll have to go inside and load them up.”
“Why can’t you help?”
“Family. Fans. I’m on the down low, remember?”
“What exactly am I slathering on these dogs besides chili?”
“Mustard. Onion. A couple of squirts of that fake cheese.” Chase dug a crumpled twenty from his front pocket and pressed it into her hand. “And anything else that strikes your fancy.”
“Should I leave the car running in case you need to make a quick getaway from your adoring fans?”
“No, but I tell you what. I’ll keep it running in case you do,” he shot back.
She laughed. “We’re quite the pair, huh?”
Chase slumped into the seat, trying to stay inconspicuous.