Page 76 of Riding the Storm
When the photographer finally lowers the camera, my hands slip from her body, and I take a step back, helping Monica hop down. Once her feet are planted, my focus snaps past her—to Charli.
She’s still by the fence. Her arms are crossed, her mouth a hard line. Those fierce blue eyes are locked on me, sharp enough to cut through steel.
Good, I think before I can stop myself. Because that burn in her gaze feels close to what’s been sitting in my chest all damn morning.
The shoot drags on another twenty minutes—different poses, different props. Monica keeps the flirting up between shots, but I can tell it’s just her attempt to keep the chemistry sparking.
But that spark crackling in my chest isn’t about the model standing in front of me. It’s about the woman waiting at the fence.
When we’re finally done and Burke calls it a wrap, Micah claps me on the back. “That was spectacular,” he says. “Cameras love you as much as the crowd.”
He explains the plan for the day as we walk to where Charli and the other riders stand. The cameras will pan to me several times during the event, teasing the audience about a big announcement. I’ll hand out prizes after the final round, then officially introduce Dry Canyon as the major sponsor. Micah will take it from there, unveiling Bull Rope Whiskey and our collaboration.
He gives Charli a hug and kisses her cheek. “I’ll see you two in thirty,” he says before walking off with Burke to look at the film.
I put on a smile as I greet the boys. Axle pulled the meanest bull of the day, and he’s itching to get on its back. Chase and Porter are on his tail, chasing the win after yesterday’s rides. But Royce is out of the runningafter being tossed three seconds in. Charli waits patiently as we talk shop before they hurry away to get ready.
“You hungry?” I ask. “We should grab some food before this thing gets started.” The last thing I need is the cameras catching me wolfing down chili dogs during the show.
“You done playing cowboy model?” she quips.
I smirk. “You didn’t like the show?”
“Oh, I liked it fine,” she says. “Especially the part where you and that woman—what’s her name, Monica?—tried to swallow each other.”
“It was just work. It wasn’t real,” I say, trying not to laugh.
“It sure looked real from where I was standing,” she mutters.
“Then I guess we did our job,” I say as I press my hand to the small of her back and lead her forward.
She scoffs. “Yep. So convincing.”
I step closer, my lips going to her ear. “You were watching awful close for someone who didn’t like it.”
Her eyes flash as she glances back at me. Then her lips twitch, fighting a smile she doesn’t want to give me. “You were watching me awfully hard yourself, cowboy.”
“You are quite a distraction, darlin’.” That seems to please her because she finally starts walking, keeping a half step ahead of me, pretending to study the bulls being loaded into pens.
Inside the trailer, I send one of the PR girls to concessions to grab us some food.
“Micah says we’ll be sitting in the suite with him and his wife,” I tell her. “Cameras’ll be panning our way a few times.”
“Great,” she says dryly, looking down at herself. “I should have worn something else.” Then her finger goes to her hair. “And curled my hair.”
“You look perfect,” I murmur, stepping closer again. “Just like that.”
She looks up at me, eyes narrowing. “Says the man who has two fairy godmothers fluttering around, getting him ready for his close-up.”
I grin. “Well, we’re not all natural beauties. Some of us need the help.”
For a second, it’s quiet. Just the hum of the AC and the noise of the arena outside.
Then she sighs, sinking onto the couch again. “Right.”
“It’s true. You sure had those cowboys eating out of the palm of your hand.”
She scoffs. “They were just being nice because they’re friends with Axle and Royce.”
