T-Bone (Grade-A Beefcakes 2)

I needed room. Air. A little more time before I said the one word they’d been waiting for.

Yes. Just one syllable and I’d be theirs.

Tucker looked over his shoulder, watched as one of the men was practicing his lasso work as he stood in the center of the ring. “All right. Climb on over and I’ll show you how it’s done.”

I knew exactly how it was done, but I wasn’t going to tell him that.

Colton helped me climb the fence. Tucker gripped my waist and lifted me over the top, then settled me on my feet in the dirt ring. Directly in front of him. I flicked my gaze back at Colton.

“Don’t worry about me, sugar. I like to watch.” He winked.

Tucker dropped the reins of the horse, then led me toward the center of the ring. Another guy had just lassoed the fake steer and was now removing the loop from the horns.

Tucker whistled and someone brought over a rope, lasso loop ready. The guy tipped his hat and ma’am’d me before moving back to the fence. Tucker handed me the rope, then stood behind me, wrapped his arms around my waist, showing me how to hold it properly, how to circle it over my head, then had me snap and release it. Yeah, having him hold me, murmur in my ear… this alone was worth keeping my skills a secret, even for just another minute or two.

Since we didn’t toss it very hard, the rope fell well short of the fake steer, but Tucker was a good teacher, and I didn’t mind being pressed against him. Not one little bit. And nothing about him was little.

“Now, I’ll step back, let you try it on your own. Try it with the steer not moving first. Once you get the hang of that, we can have Ken pull it around the ring.” The guy on the ATV tipped his hat in response, waiting. Watching.

I glanced up at Tucker. He looked serious, not joking. He wasn’t poking fun at me, wasn’t trying to get the girl to

look a fool, but earnest in his help. He wanted me to succeed at this. It took a little of my woman’s pride out of my motivation to lasso the metal animal, but not much.

I walked a few feet closer, settled my right hand grip where I wanted, kept my left hand on the rope, but loose.

The rope felt familiar in my hold, the motions coming back to me, although it had been a while since I’d done this last. I spun the rope overhead as I walked slowly toward the steer, then solidified my stance, whipped my wrist, let the lasso fly.

With ease, it arced through the air and landed right over the steer’s head.

Clapping came from the men around the ring. Tucker came up to me, leaned in so his breath fanned my ear, one hand on my waist. “Why do I have a feeling you’ve done this before?”

I shivered, although it wasn’t the least bit chilly out. I met his blue eyes, which were filled not only with heat, but amusement. I shrugged in reply, gave him a small smile. Lifting his chin, he got one of the hands to undo the loop from the steer and I pulled it back, coiling the rope as I went.

“Where did you say you were from again?” he asked as I did that.

“Denver.” I didn’t look at him, just kept at my task until I held it all in a grip.

“Huh. Should I get the steer moving this time?” Clearly, he couldn’t tell if I was a ringer or just had beginner luck.

“Sure.”

He whistled once, circled his finger and Ken started up the ATV and slowly circled the ring. Tucker moved so he stood behind me, out of the way. I walked around in a wide circle, following the path of the fake steer. I got my rope set right, began to swing, then flicked.

When it caught again on the head, Tucker laughed.

Ken stopped the ATV, cut the engine.

“Denver?” he asked again, cocking his head to the side and studying me from the top of my head to my heeled boots. “I didn’t realize there were a lot of steers that needed wrangling in a big city like that.”

“Denver,” I confirmed. “There aren’t. But I spent my summers on a family ranch in the mountains. Lots of steers to wrangle and no parents around to tell me I had to be ladylike.”

“Color me impressed,” he replied. He was smiling, shaking his head slightly, as if I’d surprised him and made him horny all at once.

His response surprised me. I wasn’t a little woman to escort to parties and show off. The one time I told my father about how I’d learned to lasso, he’d only humored me and said girls shouldn’t do stuff like that. As for Perry, if he were my husband, I wouldn’t see a cow again unless it was cooked well-done and on a plate with a sprig of parsley.

On top of that, not too many men liked being shown up by a woman, especially if he were the boss in front of his men. Tucker didn’t seem upset at all. In fact, he seemed to take pride in my unusual talent. That it proved we belonged together even more than ever. That I belonged here.

“I assume you can do that from the back of a horse,” he said.