Chasin' Eight (Rough Riders 11)

“Seems I’ve had two choices in my life. Rodeo or ranch.”

“Your payout from your percentage of the ranch sure gives you more than two choices now, Chase. What about that buddy of yours? The one who offered you a stake in a bull? Any interest in breeding stock?”

“No. I’ll leave that to you and Cash.” Chase sighed and stared at the bunk above him. “Alls I ever wanted to do was ride bulls. I’ve never looked beyond that.”

“That’s an easy mindset to fall into when you’re young, on top, and believe you’ll stay there forever.”

“But?” Chase prompted.

“But bull ridin’ isn’t a forever occupation.” Colby sighed. “Look, you’ve got enough on your mind right now. We’re all damn proud of you.”

If they were all so proud of him, why did he feel like such a disappointment? Or were they proud of him for the wrong reason? “Thanks, Colby, I appreciate the advice.”

Chase was tired of Ava avoiding him. Especially when he had no idea if he’d done something to piss her off.

For the last two days she’d dutifully recorded his rides, made DVD copies and handed them to Gemma every afternoon. But as far as a one-on-one conversation between them? Not once.

Maybe she’s changed her mind about continuing this western adventure with you.

After supper, Chase tracked her down to the training paddock, her silhouette reflected as a shadow in the moonlit dirt below the mechanical bull.

Despite the ache from wrist to shoulder, Chase balanced on one arm and hopped the fence. When he stood in front of her, he said, “You gonna get in a little practice?”

She shrugged.

“Ava? You all right?”

“No.”

“What’s wrong? Are you hurt?”

Her gaze finally snapped to his. “Are you?”

“No, I’m—”

“Fine, right? Acting like it’s no big deal you got thrown on your ass half a dozen times. Or that you got stomped on by a bull at least four of those times. Oh, and that’s just today. That’s not counting the first two days I watched. And taped. And wanted to…”

“Wanted to what?”

“Hide,” she said softly.

“Why?”

“So I didn’t have to watch you getting hurt over and over. Record you getting hurt over and over.”

Chase wasn’t expecting that. He climbed on the mechanical bull, so they faced each other, knee-to-knee with their legs draped over the sides. “All this fuss is about me? Really?”

Ava nodded, but still wouldn’t look at him. “In my head I knew climbing on a bull was dangerous, but seeing it firsthand scared the living piss out of me, Chase McKay.”

Such sweet honesty bowled him over.

“The last bull today that threw you into the gate? I was really glad you were wearing a helmet.”

“Me too. I’m getting used to the damn thing. But I still got my bell rung pretty good.”

“Were you scared?”

“To be honest, I don’t remember.”

“Don’t brush my concerns aside, Chase. You almost—”

“Almost don’t count in bull ridin’, Hollywood. Staying on eight seconds is the only thing that does count.”

“Watching you sometimes…? God. A couple rides seemed like eight hours.”

Chase murmured, “Seems that way to me too sometimes.”

Ava’s eyes were filled with frustration. “Why do you do this?”

“Why do you walk onto a fake set and pretend to be somebody you’re not?” he volleyed back.

“Not the same thing.”

“Yes, it is. We both take risks in our jobs, they’re just different types of risks. We’re both professionals.”

“But—”

“Ava. Stop.” Even as Chase’s conscience warned No no no, his body urged him closer with Yes yes yes. He slipped his hand around the back of her neck and angled his head until their lips were barely an inch apart. Kissing her jaw, her chin. Soft, teasing smooches. Dragging out the innocent kisses until the heat kicked in.

When Ava opened her mouth, and the warm flesh of her lips skimmed across his, he lost his mind. His intention to gift her with the most sensual kiss in the history of the world vanished.

Chase inhaled her, keeping her in place as he feasted on her mouth. When her hands inched up his arms, he made a low-pitched warning sound and her fingers curled into his biceps.

He drank in the taste of her. Feeding her hot kisses. Wet kisses. Sliding his tongue deeper to explore her mouth, then retreating to gently smooch her kiss-plumped lips.

During one of those tender, fleeting kisses, she murmured, “Chase?”

He recognized the question in her voice, it was the same one running through his mind: What the hell are you doing? Twining silky strands of her hair around his fingers, he rested his forehead to hers, breathing raggedly. “Dammit, Hollywood. I’m sorry.”

“Are you really?”

“No.”

They stayed like that for several blissful minutes, even when Chase knew he should pull away.

“Are you having second thoughts about hitting the rodeo trail with me? Especially since I just gave you the mother of all mixed signals by layin’ a big, wet kiss on you?”

“My second thoughts had nothing to do with that.” Ava pressed her lips to his. “Besides, one little kiss isn’t gonna scare me off. You and me? We’re friends. Pals. Buddies. Road warriors. Road dogs. We’ll probably be prancing around each other naked by the time our adventure is up. Prancing around totally nude and we won’t even bat an eyelash.”

Not a snowball’s chance in hell of that happening if Ava was nekkid. Chase tipped her face up to gaze into her eyes. “You’ll be all right watching me compete?”

“I think so. It’s gotten better.”

“That’s because my ass didn’t hit the dirt as often,” he said dryly. Chase slid off the bull and held out his hand to help her down. “You comin’ back to the bunkhouse?”

“In a bit. It’s so beautiful here. Almost like I’m on a movie set and it isn’t real. I want to drink it in.”

“Not worried a mountain lion will sneak up behind you and carry you off?”

Was the wind playing tricks on him? Or did he hear her mutter, “I wish you’d sneak up behind me and carry me off.”

Chase said, “Pardon?”

“I said I’ll be fine. Good night, Sundance.”