She laughed, still looking embarrassed. “Definitely not,” she said, shaking her head. “I don’t even get out on the horses enough anymore; you know that.”
“Hmm,” John said, shaking his head. “Well, as much as I might wish that you’d decided to follow me into the family business, I have to admit that with Trethan’s capable hands helping out around the Lazy J, we’re doing better than we ever have before.” He narrowed his eyes at me. “So you just make sure you don’t get yourself injured today, all right? I don’t know what I’d do around the ranch without you!”
I laughed and shook my head. “I’m sure you’d do just fine,” I said. “But I’ll be careful out there.”
“Good,” he said. He looked pointedly back and forth between the two of us.
I cleared my throat awkwardly, glancing at Vanessa. “Sir, I guess I should have told you that Vanessa and I were starting to date again,” I said. When he didn’t say anything, I hurried to continue. “I know that I probably should have asked your permission, what with the history that I have, but you know that I’ve been a lot better lately, and Vanessa is keeping me on that track. I haven’t even really been down to the Roasted Bison lately.”
“I should have known there was some ulterior motive to your sudden interest in entering a rodeo competition,” John said, shaking his head. He looked at Vanessa. “And, I should have known there was some ulterior motive to your putting on a pair of jeans for once.”
Vanessa blushed and ducked her head. “Dad, we were going to tell you, we just...” She trailed off, looking over at me. “We haven’t really talked about what we’re doing,” she admitted. “We’re just having a bit of fun. It’s just like old times.”
John continued to look between the two of us, and then he cracked a smile. He lightly shoved at my shoulder. “Go out there and impress her, then.” He held out his arm to his daughter. “Shall we go find our seats? I’m sure Trethan wants to get his head into competition mode.”
“Okay,” Vanessa said. She glanced toward her dad and then turned back to me, standing up on her tiptoes and kissing me. “For good luck,” she said breathlessly as she pulled away.
I smiled at her and tipped my hat toward her, watching that sexy, denim-clad ass as she walked away.
There was a low whistle off to my left, and I turned to see Mike standing there, watching Vanessa walk off, as well. “That’s your girl, then? Her pussy as tight as it looks?”
I growled wordlessly at him. “What the hell are you doing here?”
Mike raised an eyebrow at me. “I’m a rodeo man,” he said. “And George is one of my good pals. He’s invited me here to ride one of these bulls, not that it’s any business of yours.”
I snorted. “Well, get ready for me to trounce you again, just like I have at the Roasted Bison,” I told him.
He grinned. “Riding a real bull isn’t the same as riding a mechanical one,” he said. “You think you’re hot shit in the bar, maybe, but you’ll be singing a di
fferent tune once you get done with a ride out here.” He glanced after Vanessa again. “Maybe we should spice things up a little. Instead of betting cash, we’ll bet on your girl. She could do with a ride on a real man.”
I lunged at him, but before I could land a blow, some of the other bull-riders were pulling us away from one another. “Come on, come on,” Larry said, scowling at me. “Save your anger for the bulls.”
Mike laughed and shook his head. “This your trainer, then?” he asked, sneering at Larry. “Some washed up, crippled has-been. Should have figured.”
“Motherfucker,” I snapped, trying to lunge at him again, but the guys holding my shoulders kept their grip, and I didn’t make it more than a couple inches.
Larry looked unimpressed as ever. “Better to be a washed-up has-been than whatever we might call you, Fat Mike.” He caught me by the shoulder and steered me away from the crowd.
“You guys know each other?” I asked Larry.
“Yeah, we go way back,” he said, glancing over his shoulder to where Mike was still fuming. “Guy’s always been a douchebag. But listen, don’t think about him right now. I want you thinking about the bull you’re about to ride. Focus.”
“But doesn’t that piss you off?” I asked incredulously. “I mean, he just insulted you.”
He snorted. “He’s not the first, and he won’t be the last one to call me that,” he said unconcernedly. “See, this is exactly what your problem is with the bull, and why if you don’t change things, you’re never going to make it beyond an amateur level: something spits a fight at you, and you go in guns blazing. The thing about riding a bull is you can’t just go in for the kill. You’ve got to roll with the punches a little, too.
“It should be more like a dance. Kind of like when you’re wooing a girl. You can’t just grab her and take a tumble in the hay; there’s a certain amount of lead-up that needs to go into it. Do you get what I’m saying?”
“Kind of,” I admitted, watching as the first contestant went out into the ring. He put up a respectable time, but after one buck, his hand dropped down to rest against his thigh for a moment, and he was disqualified.
Mike went up next.
“Now here, watch him go,” Larry said, pointing to the other man. “Like I said, Mike and I go way back, and I know how he rides.” He grinned crookedly. “I could probably tell you the exact moment when he’s about to come off. But see how he pivots his hips? I want you to loosen up out there, like that.” He made a noise. “There it is, though. See the way his heels just turned inwards, the slightest bit? There he goes.”
Sure enough, Mike went flying a respectable distance through the air, but he rolled through the fall with surprising grace and ran for the fences as the clowns ran in to distract the bull.
“I tried to tell him to watch his feet, but he never listened,” Larry muttered under his breath.