Page 37 of My Cowboy Trouble
They cross the finish line, and the crowd erupts. Not because she was good—she wasn't. Her time is terrible, dead last by a mile. But because she finished. Because she didn't give up. Because sometimes that's enough.
She pulls Whiskey to a stop right in front of us, still laughing, still glowing with adrenaline.
"Did you see that?" she gasps. "I didn't die!"
"The bar's pretty low when not dying is the goal," I say, but I'm fighting a smile.
"Don't care. I survived a rodeo!" She starts to dismount and immediately gets tangled in the stirrups. "Uh, small problem."
I catch her as she falls, my hands spanning her waist, her body sliding down mine until her feet hit the ground. We're pressed together, her hands on my shoulders, my hands still on her waist, and that adrenaline in her eyes shifts to something else.
"Thanks," she breathes.
"Yeah."
Neither of us moves.
"Get a room!" someone shouts, and we spring apart.
But Gavin and Asher are right there, pulling her into a group hug that I somehow get dragged into. We're all laughing, even me, and for a moment, just a moment, I forget why this is a bad idea.
I forget that she's leaving.
I forget that I don't do this—don't get close, don't let people in, don't wantthings I can't have.
I forget everything except how right this feels.
How right she feels.
The forgetting is going to cost me. I know it. But right now, with her pressed between us, smelling like horse and hay and happiness, I can't bring myself to care.
The Rusty Spur is packed,which is normal for a Saturday night after the rodeo. What's not normal is how Kenzie's fitting in, buying rounds and laughing at terrible jokes and letting old cowboys teach her to two-step.
She's terrible at it. Absolutely awful. Steps on everyone's feet, turns the wrong way, and somehow manages to lead when she should follow and follow when she should lead. But she's trying, and that counts for something.
"My turn," Gavin cuts in on her current partner, some ranch hand from the Triple Cross who's been holding her unnecessarily close.
"We were just getting started," the guy protests.
"And now you're just getting finished." Gavin's smile is all teeth. "Move along, partner."
The ranch hand looks like he wants to argue, but something in Gavin's eyes makes him think better of it. Smart man.
"You didn't have to do that," Kenzie says as Gavin pulls her into position. "I was fine."
"You were about to get felt up by Tommy Henderson, who hasn't seen a dentist or a willing woman in about five years."
"Maybe I like projects."
"You've already got three of those." He spins her, and she laughs as she tries to keep up. "Speaking of which, Trent hasn't taken his eyes off you all night."
"I can hear you," I call, and he ignores me.
He's right. I haven't taken my eyes off her. I know I haven't. I'm standing at the bar, nursing the same beer I've had for an hour, watching her move through the crowd like she belongs here. Like she's not leaving in twenty-five days.
Twenty-four days actually. Or is it now twenty-three?
"You're pathetic," Asher says, appearing beside me. "Either ask her to dance or stop looking like someone shot your dog."
