Page 36 of Ride the Sky

Before I can say another word, she slips out of my grasp and outside into the dark.

I could chase her right now, tell her every damn thing in my heart, but she’s already gone.

“You ain’t gonna resolve a thing, you two keep fightin’ the way you are,” Ford drawls as we shove our way through the crowd at the Rock ’n Ride Rodeo.

I arch a brow. “This your wise big brother advice?”

“Cowboy advice. Married man advice.”

I roll my eyes. Ever since all three of them got hitched, I swear they think they’re experts.

Ford loops an arm around my shoulders. “Listen, the tougher your woman is, the more you have to baby her.”

Charlie laughs. “You talkin’ about Reese or Fallon?”

Ford chuckles. “What can I say? My wife’s a cruel mistress.”

Charlie looks at me. “We said talk to her, not start an all-out brawl.”

“I’m tryin’, man,” I grouse. “It’s not my fault she’s as stubborn as a damn mule.”

Ford dodges an incoming camera crew. “Any luck, yet?”

“I can’t get her alone for one damn minute.” I scowl as I spy Fallon, Pappy, and Tripp in the crowd.

I’m still brooding over our argument from last night. How do I talk to someone who doesn’t want to hear it?

Today’s not the place for a conversation about why she needs to come home. I won’t lay anything heavy on her shoulders. Not when she needs to be focused on her ride.

Truth is, I’m worried as hell about it. Because the odds are against Fallon. What are the chances she draws the most dangerous bull there is? The chances that she actually stays on?

It’s the world’s most dangerous sport. I’d be an idiot not to worry.

Tonight. After she’s safe on the fucking ground, I’ll tell her.

Everything.

“Not like she’d listen to me anyway,” I complain.

Ford grabs a beer off a cart. “You trained her, didn’t you? She listened then.”

Barely.

“I’ll tell you what your problem is,” Ford says.

I rub my face. “Great, can’t wait.”

“You’re searching for affection from Fallon, but really, you’d be better off getting affection from a dog on the side of the road, I’m just sayin’.”

Charlie chokes on a laugh.

I glare at my asshole brother. “Ford, keep talking, I will dump your beer over your head.”

It’s a sea of cameras, cowboys, and spectators at the arena. The smells of manure, spilled beer, popcorn hang in the air. Registration lines are at a crawl. Tailgaters crack beers in the parking lot. Cowboys wearing safety-pinned contestant numbers prowl for something to do, someone to bullshit. Rodeo isn’t just a sport. It’s a lifestyle.

And fuck, do I miss it.

Charlie grins at me knowingly. “Wish you were ridin’?”

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