“Ain’t that a bitch, huh? An’ he didn’t buy ya another?”
“No. Well, anyway, I should—“
“Well, I am a far better gentleman than that,” he cut me off, leaning closer, wanting to keep my attention. “But it ‘pears you already got one so we’ll go back to bareback ridin’, though it’s about done now.”
I did a double take, exit strategy momentarily forgotten. “Did you say bareback riding?”
His eyebrows creased as he nodded.
I looked back at the arena in slight disbelief, laughter bubbling up. “You call it.... you said... you call it bare back riding!” I was doubling over in hysterics. It wasn’t really this funny-- oh wait, in the land of the homophobe, it was. It was really this funny.
I calmed down and caught him looking back at his friends. When his gaze came back to rest on me with a halfcocked smile, I explained, “Where I come from, we refer to bare-backing as a....well, two dudes going at it without…ah...a raincoat.”
Confusion turned to disgust and he turned away. Which shouldn’t have shocked me. Many men couldn’t handle speaking about g*y men. I knew this. Gay women, oh yeah, they were all ears. It was a stupid double-standard that irritated me. But my disquiet grew exponentially with the level of hate and revulsion on this guy’s face. He wasn’t merely uncomfortable, he was remembering where his white sheet and pointed hat were kept. Time to go.
“No. That ain’t at all what we have here. Not. At. All.” He tried to cover smoothly. About as smooth as a tidal wave.
“Right. Got it. Anyway, I should probably get back to my friends.”
He moved a little closer. “Oh no, you can’t leave before the barrel racing. Then the bull riding. You don’t have any double meanings for those, I hope?”
“Oh no, all clean there, but my friends are waiting for me.” I got up to leave.
His fingers closed around my wrist and brought me back down with a jarring bump. Warning bells started blaring through my head, momentarily leaving me speechless. We were in a public spot, albeit slightly removed. He couldn’t very well do anything here. Not without someone noticing. My friends noticing, who must have missed me about now.
Just as I was deciding how to proceed, I was jerked up by the shoulders from behind.
Cue friends, right in time.
“Ready to go, Jess?” JP’s eyes were trained on the blond guy I was talking to.
He stood slowly, his eyes taking on a vicious edge that said he wasn’t the kind of guy to stand down when his party got busted up. His friends all stood with him.
Phil stepped forward, seeing a fight brewing. Dave's eyes were darting back and forth, sweat standing out on his face. He was planning an exit strategy. If a fight went down, it wouldn’t be five against three, it would be five big guys, against two smallish ones. And some girls. Not good.
I really wished Lump was with me right then. She would know what to do.
Taking a deep breath, I moved to the middle of the two factions, my back to the arena. I really hoped I didn’t get pushed, because I would fall down eight steps, backwards. I had to step in, though, I was the only speed bump to violence. I hope.
“Alright, just calm down, okay? I was leaving, anyway,” I started in a calm voice, hands out in front of me.
“Says who?” the blond guy said with claws imbedded in his words. His eyes raked down my front.
I heard rustling. One of the boys was about to prove that testosterone made men stupid. Seriously, what could this clown do? Kidnap me? Rape me? It was the middle of the day, in the middle of some stands, with witnesses everywhere. Everyone needed to just scale it back a notch!
Which was exactly what I opened my mouth to say, when suddenly I was airborne. A second later, my teeth clicked when my feet hit the level a step lower. Only then did I register I’d been bodily picked up by a freaking titan and moved out of the way.
A large body stepped in front of me, blocking me from danger. My legs started to wobble, when the ground fell away a second time.
“What the—“ This time I stumbled when my feet touched down. I felt like a freaking rag doll. I was over a freaking hundred pounds and two guys now manhandled me as if I was a sack of grain.
“Don’t fall, it’s a bumpy ride down,” a short guy said to my right, his hand lightly touching my upper arm to make sure I didn’t do a swan dive.
I tried to struggle my way back to the front lines, but as I moved around the protective body blocking my way, William reached out a large arm to keep me back.
“Dusty, git the hell outta here. We don’t need yer kind ‘round here!” Apollo’s friend said with a thick Texan accent. I couldn’t see the guy over the expanse of back in front of me, but he’d been the second guy to lift me out of the way, so he was probably big.
“Ain’t you got nuthin’ better ta do, Adam? This’es got nuthin’ to do with you,” Dusty said, cool as a spring day.
“Hell, Dusty, you always got sumethin’ ta do wit’ me. You’re always causing trouble at my parties. Now, why is that do ya reckon?”
“Your parties? That right? I got no beef with you, Adam. Nor you, Davies. I just wanted to settle a little dispute with my friend here.”
Dusty’s body crested William’s in my line of sight, stepping toward JP and Phil. I only got a glimpse, though, because William shadowed him, irritatingly lodging himself back in my line of sight.
“Now Dusty,” Adam went on, “you know we ain’t gonna let no fight happen in here. We got some bulls to run and we can’t have no trouble.”
Judging by William’s movement, Dusty took a few steps back toward his friends. He wanted the numbers. He was probably weighing his odds and his groups' willingness. Finally, after what was probably a stare-off, Dusty said, “Why don’t you let the lady decide? We was havin’ ourselves a nice little chat ‘afore you all showed up.”
Bodies parted slightly as William angled his body, moving just his substantial width of shoulder. A glare of hatred hit me as I met Dusty’s eyes. A creepy smile slithered up his face.
“I’ll be seein’ you around, darlin.”
My foot took an involuntary step back with the force of his glower, catching the bench, throwing my balance off kilter. As I teetered, arms wind-milling, Adam and William were already in action.
As Adam said, “that about does it—“ they had him clutched between them, jerking him around by the arms and shirt, forcing him roughly down the stairs.
A mountain stepped in front of me, then, but I couldn’t marvel at its size. I was toppling, heading backward in what I knew, I just knew, would hurt something awful.
Chapter Six
“Hang on there—“ The smaller man grabbed me around the waist, using all his strength of keep me from somersaulting end-over-end down the steps.
“Jessica!”
That screech could only belong to Candace.
Sure enough, another, softer body barreled into my back, helping the smaller man with momentum if not strength. Arms like thick cables despite his small stature, he got me on my feet, his steadying hand welcomed.
As I teetered to a stop, I saw one and a half things. The first was the mountain range. And it was huge.
Six-foot-four at least, he towered over me. Huge broad back, tree trunk arms supporting more than one tattoo, and not an ounce of fat that I could see, he was a giant brick of solid muscle.
Behind him was the half of crowd, shifting and sticking hands in pockets, left in Dusty’s wake. The other half was probably there, too, but damned if I could see them around the mammoth in front of me.
The boys got a look at him and shrugged. They lost the desire to fight almost immediately, choosing instead to skulk off down the stands. I didn’t blame them.
Andre-the-freaking-Giant turned to me. “You alright? We wasn’t gonna let him hurt ya.”
I smiled in relief. “Thanks a million! I really appreciate it!” Then, thinking I might offend my crew, I added, “We definitely needed the numbers. Candace and I wouldn’t have been much help, and these guys were only three against five. Or was it six?”
The giant looked around at the guys I came with. Then the littler dude stepped up, smiling like the whole thing was some big joke. Little did he know, the joke was the two of them standing side-by-side. A short, wiry guy and a thick tree trunk of a man. I was sure there was a cartoon somewhere made of this pair.
The little guy stuck out his hand. “Hi. My name’s Clayton. People call me Ty.”
He had a lower voice than I would have thought. It was quite low, actually. No accent, either. He had trimmed eyebrows, a short nose that had been broken a couple times and not set properly, and dark brown eyes. His hair looked shaggy but it was hard to tell because he had a Yankees ball cap on.
“Oh, hi. My name is...ah...Jessica.” I smiled and sighed. “Sorry, my adrenaline is up.”
He smiled back, showing a pretty smile marred by a couple chipped teeth. “No harm, Jessica.”
He scanned the area, completely at ease. His gaze touched each of the boys, Sara for a half second longer, then lingered on Candace.
“Oh sorry, these are my friends...”
Ty nodded with each introduction, but paid special attention to Candace, who responded with an embarrassed look at the ground. I smirked.
Ty turned to the mountain. “This is Moose. Well, his real name is Carl, but we call him Moose.”
“Did you say Carl, or Lennie?” I quipped, then instantly regretted it. I hoped no one would catch on that Lennie was the large, lumbering “Of Mice and Men” character that had the strength of three men but the brains of a flower pot.
Ty looked at me with a furrowed face.
Please don’t get the reference. Please don’t get the reference!
JP, jelly to my peanut butter, tried to stifle his chuckle so as not to give me away, but Ty caught it. He looked back at Moose for two beats, before he doubled over, screaming with laughter. His body heaved, hands on his stomach, guffawing in the stands. Everyone else, not having got the joke—story of my life—adopted the crooked grins and random chuckles usual when someone was laughing so hard tears were coming out of his eyes.
After a moment, when Ty got his bearings, he straightened up, took a look at Moose, was received with a “What’d I miss?” and then doubled over again.
“What’s up?” Adam asked, coming up the bleachers, Apollo following along behind.
Ty just pointed at me, shook his head, and said, “Better watch her.”
The barrel racing was finished and people were getting ready for the next event, which was bull riding. Judging by the crowd, this was the highlight of the day.
Adam, Moose and lastly Apollo followed Ty down the stands. I walked to JP and was just about to say a big thank you to all the boys when Ty yelled up, in a thick, cartoon-like accent, “Hey! Ain’t y’all cumin’?”
All four of the retreating men stopped at ground level. Adam asked, “Y’all want to watch the bull fights from our gate? Ty here is gonna ride.”
I shot a startled glance at lit up faces. Dave looked like he was going to pee himself he was so excited. Candace looked really red, (haha!) and JP was looking at me intensely.
Before I could ask JP why the scrutiny, we heard, “I still owe you a beer.”
My feet were moving before my brain could process the wonderful tickle down my spine. Which was actually bad news, because while it felt like I was floating, what I was actually doing was stumbling. Apparently the day would not end before I bounced down a flight of steps.
After a walk in which JP basically escorted me like a senior citizen with a cane, the procession stopped beside a white, new-looking trailer attached to a gigantic, shiny, midnight-blue truck. One of the truck tires came up to my mid-thigh! I had seen a lot of this sort of thing in the parking lot, but not quite this glossy. Did rich rednecks exist?
“Like it?” Apollo asked beside me as the others wandered toward the arena fence.
“Uh...it’s fine. I dunno. Why?”
He turned his gaze on me. “It looked like you were inspecting the truck.”
“Oh. Well, it’s big. Tall, I mean. You know, the tires. Is there a reason it is this big? Tall? How do people actually get into it?”
“Very carefully.” He smirked.
“How old are you?” I asked with sarcasm.
He looked surprised and shuffled his feet.
“Because of that joke, I mean,” I said in a hurry. I didn’t want the guy thinking I was planning to stalk him or anything. I was, but I didn’t want to be anticipated. “My grandparents used that one all the time...”
He threw his head back and laughed. “Ah. Got it. Yeah, mine did, too. Guess it fits.”
“Is this your trailer?”
“Yup.”
“It’s nice. Big. It looks luxurious.”
“Luxurious?”
“Yeah, like on Lifestyles of the Rich and Famous, Country addition. It looks like a yacht on wheels.”
He laughed again and grabbed my hand, starting toward it.
I soared at his touch! His hand was course, but gentle. In size, it was like a Kodak Grizzly bear paw compared to mine. What affected me most was the electric current running through his skin, my hand, and directly into my mid-section, collecting in a puddle of sex in my groin. My lady bits answered with a purr.
With a fluttering stomach, I allowed him to lead, stopping shoulder-to-shoulder in front of the trailer door. He looked at me with a huge smile, as if I was still included in the joke, his flawless features closer than they had yet been.
My brain shut off, allowing my animalistic senses to fully feel the connection that body contact afforded. I was mesmerized. All my focus was on him; on his impossibly broad, beefy shoulders; on the muscles moving in his arm as he held my hand; on his deep blue, glittering eyes.