Page 18 of Head Over Spurs

“I didn’t even know I had different smiles.”

“You do.”

She made a living noticing things, he reasoned. But logic didn’t reach that bubbly feeling that had returned to his chest.

“Anyway,” Jules cleared her throat, “where were you this morning?”

“I had an appointment for my back.”

“Because of the injury?” she asked hesitantly, as if testing the waters of this topic.

“Yes ma’am.”

“Is everything okay?”

Holding her gaze, he ignored the tension that pricked down his spine. The tension that seemed to be there more often these days. Then in a light, breezy tone, he replied, “Never better.”

10

JULES

The weekend came quickly, and Jules knew just how she wanted to spend her first chance at free time in Wyoming. About two hours north of town, there was a wild horse sanctuary that she’d always wanted to experience, but she never seemed to have the time to make the trek from Denver between jobs.

From Sterling Ridge though, it was a simple day trip. So, with her camera bag packed shotgun and her second coffee of the day in her cup holder, she threw on her favorite suede jacket—with fringe—and hit the road.

It was one of those days that still carried a chill late in the morning, but the sun was fast to warm you, hinting at a lovely summer afternoon to come. Buzzing with anticipation, she cranked up her Lainey Wilson channel and sang along shamelessly.

She cruised along, winding through the mountain passes, until a smell caught her attention. Specifically, the smell of smoke—coming from under the hood.

Pulling off to the side of the road, she jumped out to examine her car. With the way the smoke was billowing from the slats,she was not going to risk opening the hood and getting a face full of whatever was going on in there.

“Shit, shit, shit,” she muttered, slamming her fists down on the hood and immediately regretting it when heat seared her skin. Shaking out her hands, she returned to the driver’s seat and plucked her phone from its spot in a cup holder.

Her finger hovered over Maddie’s name when she recalled the plans that her best friend had with Grey today. She wouldn’t be able to reach them out in the mountains of the ranch. And she certainly didn’t want to interrupt. Her next choice would have been Laurel, but she was on bed rest.

Which left only two other Sterling Ridge contacts in her phone, and she was hesitant to use either. The first was Brett, who was an incredibly intimidating human. And considering the fact that she had made it almost halfway to the sanctuary, she would be looking at almost an hour of driving back with him.

The second was Riley’s number. One she was eager to use for dangerous reasons. All week she had been at war with her desire for him. The last thing she needed was to spend an hour in the close confines of his truck with him. It would be overwhelming to have him so near with the privacy of a vehicle. But she didn’t have the self-control to scroll away from his name.

She clicked Riley’s name.

Riley

There was nothing quite like a local rodeo. It may not have had all the flash as the big arenas, but it had good people with big hearts. Competitors weren’t out here to chase money or fame, it was simply a way to do what they loved.

Riley may not have always fallen into this category, there wasa time when he absolutely was chasing money and fame. But being back at the Sterling Round-Up was a blessing he didn’t want to overlook.

He leaned forward on the fence to watch the first bareback competitor fly from the chute. It was a Sunday, which meant events started as soon as morning mass ended. He sipped his coffee and studied the man atop the bucking bronco.

That used to be him out there, adrenaline coursing through his veins as he worked through a perfect spurring technique. And as Riley watched the cowboy out there, he couldn’t help but make mental notes of what he would be doing differently.

“Miss it?” an aged voice asked, the man jumping up on the fence beside him. He turned to find Colton, a fellow roughstock veteran who taught him everything he knew. Colton was good friends with his father and took a young Riley under his wing at an early age.

“Do you?” he asked in return with a chuckle. Of course, they both knew the answer. Always yes.

“You’re one hell of a roper though, son,” Colton offered with a pat to his shoulder. “Ever think about jumping in on team roping too?”

“I tried to get Grey out there with me, but he wasn’t interested. And after getting to watch him do his thing, there isn’t really anyone else I’d want to team up with.”

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