A Cowboy for Christmas (9 page)

His neck was jerked around, dislodging his hat. It bounced on his head with every buck of the horse. Grupo was the animal’s name, and he was pretty sure Grupo meant “demon asshole” right now.

He fell out of the saddle. Steeled his biceps and thighs. Couldn’t recover.

Hitting the dirt hurt like a bitch with his leg crumpled beneath him. Worse was the pain of knowing he hadn’t stayed on long enough and was out of the standings tonight.

“Son of a bitch!” He ripped off his hat and smacked it off the ground to the crowd’s noises of disappointment. The tendons in his ankle were stretched too far, and he felt as if he were walking on a wet noodle. He limped off and the medics came forward to loop their arms around him, supporting him as he got out of the arena.

As they fussed over his ankle, getting his boot off carefully and rolling down his sock, he avoided looking at his score. “Where’s Avalee?” he asked the medic as if he knew who Dusty was talking about.

“Your girl you were kissin’ a few nights ago? Not sure. Hold still, Dusty.”

“To hell with my ankle. It’s hurt worse in my lifetime. Lemme up.”

“You know the rules. You get checked after you come off a bad ride. We don’t want you walking off with a concussion and collapsing later.”

“Hell,” he grated out. He swung his head right and left, hoping, praying Avalee would come down and find him. Somebody would direct her. Hell, most everyone involved in the Finals knew what she looked like now.

He was damn proud that she was linked to him.

“Let her through,” he heard someone say and craned his neck to see.

“Dusty, if you move one more bone, I’m giving you a shot to knock you out,” the medic warned.

Then she was there, breaking through the knot of people and giving him a clear view of concern spelled all over her pretty face. His heart surged and every nerve in his body twitched forward as if reaching for her.

He stretched his arm and she came into it, curling into his chest, fragrant and soft and all his.

At least he intended to make her all his. They
were
in Vegas. Maybe she’d be up for a little chapel off the strip and a minister dressed in Elvis drag.

“Are you okay?” She pulled back and bracketed his face with her hands. “That fall was…” She shuddered. “You hit so hard.”

He laughed, a deep rumble that barreled up from his toes, which the medic was poking with something sharp to test his reflexes. He kicked them off and swung his leg off the table. “Quit your proddin’,” he snapped and drew Avalee between his thighs.

“Dusty, what happened out there?”

He had his fingers in her hair, stroking, smoothing and releasing the fresh scents of shampoo he’d actually applied for her this morning in the shower. God, the feel of her slippery in his hands had driven him crazy.

“Wrong horse, wrong time.” He gazed into her worried eyes.

She gave a hard shake of her head. “No. We need to talk.” The look she tossed over his shoulder to the medics held more meaning than a Tim McGraw album.

“Gimme my boot,” he said to the medic in tones that brooked no argument.

Seeing he was in no mood, the medic passed him his boot and sock. Dusty didn’t wince as he drew them on—his heart was going through all the pained grimaces. Whatever Avalee was about to say wasn’t good.

He hopped off the table, grabbed her elbow and dragged her deeper into the bowels of the arena. He opened two doors before he found an empty room where he could hide her away and convince her that whatever she wanted to say was dead wrong.

Her chest rose and fell quickly as he faced her. Pressed her against the closed door. From here they could barely hear the crowd.

“Dusty, this can’t go on. I-I was going to tell you tonight anyway, but after your ride, I can’t drag it out.”

He pushed off the door far enough to look into her eyes. “Is Rawhide dumping me because of that ride?”

“No, but…I am. Dusty, you glanced up into the stands instead of concentrating on the competition.”

“Looking for inspiration, sugar.” He nuzzled her throat. He could stay here all day and night, just smelling her.

She shook him off. “No. Dusty, I’m a distraction. You aren’t focusing on your job.”

“I did a piss-poor job tonight. Had nothing to do with you, Avalee.”

“It did, though.” She grabbed his face and forced him to stop kissing a line up to her ear. When she gazed into his eyes, he saw the determination on her face. She wasn’t joking—she was trying to dump him.

“We have several more days together. I’m not going anywhere.”

“Well I am.” Her raw tone cut through him. He stumbled back a bit. “I’m serious, Dusty. We’ve had fun, but—”

He stared at her, hard. “You’re dumping me?”

“I-I…I’m trying to be reasonable. We both knew this couldn’t last, and right now neither of us can afford to make mistakes. You need that buckle and I need to do what’s best for my company. Besides, my father’s already giving me hell.” The cold tone in her voice slipped, and he heard the underlying note of pain.

He jumped on it and seized the reins with both hands.

Leaning in, he pressed his forehead against hers and held her gaze. Up close, her eyes were bright with emotion. “You’re not going anywhere, sugar, except my bed. I’ll tie you up if I have to.”

Gently she pushed him away. “No, Dusty. I can’t do this anymore.”

“I promise I’ll win tomorrow night. I’ll recover from these two bad rides—”

“It’s not only about the ride and you know it. This,” she waved a hand in the air between them, “is just a fling. It’s sex.”

Ouch. He tightened his lips. “Is that what you think?”

She squared her shoulders. “Yeah, I do. We’re on different trajectories in our lives and have little in common.”

That was the match to his fuse. “Bullshit!”

“It’s true. We’ve been pretending there’s more between us because our bodies like each other.”

He eyed her, pain roiling around his heart. “And the rest of you doesn’t like me? I don’t buy it, Avalee.”

“Please don’t make this harder for me, Dusty. I’m ending it. It’s over.” She located the door lever and was out the door in a flash. As he caught the final glimpse of her long hair, he whirled away, unable to watch her flee from him again.

“Goddammit,” he ground out through his hardened jaw. He tore off his hat and raked his fingers through his hair. Suddenly his chaps seemed to weigh a thousand pounds, but the weight in his chest was greater.

She was wrong about them not having anything in common. They were both driven to succeed. And their passion was on the same apocalyptic level. When they were together, the world smoldered and neither of them gave a fuck about the ashes around them.

Shit. He was dumped
and
making errors in the arena. Maybe he was a little distracted this week, but a lot of his trouble was due to bad luck. Meeting Avalee was a bright spot in his life of the road and impersonal relationships, but she believed his errors were her fault. Well, he’d need to prove her wrong and the only way to do it was to win that title.

Chapter Six

Avalee had unpacked the new crates her father had shipped with lightning speed. They were selling out of every flavor of bar and drink—except the Coldspring Canyon, that was.

Dusty was right.

Unfortunately, he was right about a lot of things. Like her words about them having nothing in common.

She missed him like crazy. Being in Vegas without the big, bright star at her side was like just being in a noisy group of people that irritated. But she put on a smile and talked to customers and vendors.

By the third day without her wicked cowboy, she’d secured their product in four big chain stores and had a pocketful of business cards from people to talk with after the show. Her father was happy with her decision to end things with Dusty, not that it mattered. If she’d pushed him, her daddy would have eventually caved.

But she wasn’t that person. She did what was best and didn’t abuse her relationship with her boss just because he was also her father.

Still, she missed Dusty.

“Wanna grab some dinner, Avalee?” Ryan asked as he emptied the cash register as they did nightly.

“Nah. I’ll probably just grab a sandwich somewhere.”

“This is Vegas, baby. Some of the best food on the planet. You can’t just ‘grab a sandwich.’”

Fact was, she wanted the company with her meal, and that man was Dusty. Ryan was a good friend and a loyal employee, but she only wanted the rough man who’d dirty-talk her through breakfast, lunch, supper and a snack.

She pushed out a sigh. “Maybe tomorrow, Ryan.”

He didn’t leave, just stood there looking at her.

“What?” She smoothed her hair and wondered if she had a smudge on her nose or something worse.

“You know he’s not doing any better without you, right?”

She jerked, her heart hitting a full gallop in a beat. “What do you mean?” She’d thoroughly stuck her head in the sand about the rodeo standings since walking away from Dusty. He didn’t need the distraction and neither did she.

“He’s—”

She threw up both hands. “Don’t tell me. I’m packing in for the night. See you tomorrow.” Before he could say more, she spun and walked out as fast as she could.

Her feet ached and her heart hurt worse. How had she become so attached to a man within days of meeting him? There must be some charm to Vegas—people met and married in the same night.

Fact was, she wouldn’t have put it past Dusty to suggest something as crazy as a shotgun Vegas wedding. She’d seen how hard he was falling for her, and she wasn’t in any better condition if she were honest with herself.

She missed him.

Slogging up the strip alone was no damn fun. The hookers didn’t offer her any reason to laugh as they had when she was with Dusty. They’d accosted him every step of the way, thrusting cards at him. By the time they got to their destination—usually his hotel—he had a fat stack of cards.

What was he doing right now?

The rich scents of Chinese food wafted onto the sidewalk, and she stopped. Her stomach grumbled loudly, wanting more than the sandwiches she’d been grabbing for practically every meal.

Before she knew her own mind, her stomach led her inside. She was offered a seat near a TV, but she was too afraid they’d show the NFR highlights and asked for a table near the back.

Her order of Mongolian beef arrived, and she found herself just picking at the food even though her stomach announced it was happy to have a real meal. She kept looking around the restaurant for a certain cowboy with enough swagger to knock her to her knees.

Her body stirred at the thought of being on her knees, taking him in her mouth.

A ripple of need made her nipples pucker. Damn, now she was hearing Dusty’s voice in her head.
Hurry up and eat, sugar. I’ll take care of those hard nipples in a minute.

She pushed her plate away. What was the matter with her? This was nothing more than a fangirl moment. Except she didn’t just appreciate the cowboy who ruled wild broncs or the pretty face of Rawhide foods. No, she appreciated so much more about Dusty.

What a liar she was, saying they had nothing in common. He’d probably moved on by now and was entertaining one of the many groupies who wanted a chance at him.

Feeling a little sick, she paid her bill and went back to her room. After a hot bath, she curled up on her bed with a book—what every woman did in Sin City, right?

* * * * *

Dusty waved off the reporter who was headed his way. He didn’t want to talk about his losing streak or the rumors about why he wasn’t putting the numbers on the score board.

He was in a foul enough mood to spit nails at anyone who mentioned Avalee’s role in his downfall. He was doing a bang-up job of losing without her, but fact was, he’d lost a couple rounds with her
in
his bed.

Fucking hell, now he was hard again. For days he’d been sporting intermittent erections, and it had taken everything in him not to stomp to her booth or hotel room and take back what he wanted.

But she didn’t want him.

In a few more days he’d be over her. He’d pull out of Vegas and they’d have a clean break. But it wouldn’t be clean, exactly, because the next time Rawhide needed him for a photoshoot, he’d see her.

His heart leaped at the idea before plummeting to the soles of his boots. What was he thinking? If he didn’t hit the top three he wasn’t going to be sponsored by Rawhide anymore.

He strode through the arena, ignoring calls for autographs or photo ops. He just wanted to be alone. He could still smell the dirt he’d fallen in, dark and loamy in his nostrils. Brushing his knuckles over his face, he removed several grains there. He’d done the tuck and roll to avoid sharp hooves.

“Dusty—”

“Later,” he spat and slammed through the doors of the arena. The sky was lit from the number of city lights. It wasn’t the sky over his hometown, which he always longed for when on the road. He tipped his head back and looked at the streaky world above him. Now he associated this electrified night sky with the woman he couldn’t get out of his system.

He looked toward her hotel. A couple thousand steps and he could be at her door. What would happen if he knocked? Would she pull him in and ask him to make another mistake with her?

His chest creaked with the pain of what he was missing. Her dedication to her company had won out. They were no longer mixing business with pleasure.

He stopped dead, another conclusion hitting him hard in the chest.

If he was out of the Rawhide contract, that meant they were free to be together. Right now, his numbers were so poor that everybody else would need to bottom out on their performances for him to win. One more ride and he’d know for certain. If he continued on this downhill slide, he knew just what he’d do.

He’d grin into the camera and walk out of the arena, straight to Avalee’s door.

* * * * *

Avalee’s throat was dry as dust but she allowed the person selling overpriced cups of beer to pass by. She was too jittery to benefit from watered-down alcohol. Besides, she couldn’t hold still long enough to bring a cup to her mouth.

Dusty was in the chute.

When she’d heard from Ryan that the cowboy was on his last chance to get into the standings, she couldn’t stay away. Wild horses couldn’t have dragged her off.

His hat was looking a little battered and when she glimpsed his face on the big screen, she saw the changes in him. Stress had worked deeper lines around his firm lips and he didn’t look like his normal good-natured self.

She swallowed hard as he wrapped the rope around his hand. Fidgeted when he settled himself more securely in the saddle. She could hardly breathe. Waiting for that gate to open was going to add some years to her own appearance.

The gate opened and the horse exploded out. It kicked high, sending the crowd to its feet. She stood with them, unable to blink for fear of missing something.

Stay on. Just a few more seconds.

The horse wheeled. The crowd screamed. Dusty’s arm was raised high to balance each jerk of the animal beneath him. The crowd started counting in a wild chant. She felt her lips move too but no sound escaped.

When his horse whipped him like a scarecrow in a Texas twister, he compensated.

But it wasn’t enough.

He hit the dirt to a collective roar of disappointment.

Avalee was pushing past the people in her row and taking the steps down to the floor level as fast as she could. When she’d purchased the last ticket in peanut heaven, she hadn’t given thought to her wanting to run down and meet Dusty when he came off his ride.

Gut instinct fueled her. He’d be devastated. His dream dashed—and his sponsorship gone.

Her throat closed as she pushed past the guard. “Hey lady, you can’t—” He looked closely at her face. “Oh it’s you.”

Did everyone in the world know her as Dusty Waite’s woman? She wasn’t—not really. But if she wasn’t, why was she burning to go to him in his darkest hour?

She stopped dead and looked around, confused, conflicted and confounded by the camera flashes. She threw up a hand to shield her face from photographers. No, she couldn’t do this. Her instincts were off, and going to him was the biggest mistake she could make. As soon as he put his hands on her, she’d be lost forever.

Rushing blindly in the direction she’d come from, she battled for calm. Dusty’s low score was on the big screen and the next rider was in the chute.

“Avalee!”

When the roughened tone scraped over her senses, her body betrayed her. Her feet stopped and the rest of her body swayed as her momentum was cut short.

“Avalee!” Closer this time. She dared not look behind her. She could feel dozens of eyes on her. She launched forward again but a big hand curled around her arm. He whirled her to face him, and she was pierced in his very dark gaze before he wrapped his arm around her and began ushering her out.

Totally against her will. She was helpless against him. As they passed the guard, the man grinned knowingly. Avalee dragged in a deep breath, prepared to give him a tongue-lashing, but all she succeeded in doing was filling her nose with Dusty’s rich, leathery smell.

Oh God.
How was she going to resist this man?

They hit the ground level and he propelled her into the shadows. Riders stood around bullshitting about their scores, and a few offered Dusty words of condolence. He didn’t respond, and she stole a look at his face.

He didn’t look as stressed now as he had before his ride. How was that possible?

When they outstripped the rodeo people and found a stretch of isolated corridor, he grabbed her shoulders, turned her to face him and kissed her. His mouth was untamed, hungry. It was impossible not to respond.

She melded her mouth to his and parted her lips for his hot tongue. He groaned. She moaned. His big body pressed her against the wall, and she remembered every delicious stroke of his cock inside her. Needing more—now.

His fingers were in her hair and her hat had fallen off.

“Stop.” She tore away and tried to duck under his arm.

He held her firmly, his gaze burning as bright as fireworks on the Fourth of July. “Don’t ask me to stop, sugar. I’ve been thinking of nothing but you since you dumped me.”

Her heart throbbed at the crack of pain in his voice. “Dusty, I…”

“Don’t.” He cupped her face with extreme tenderness and kissed her again, no less passionately but a lot more tenderly. The caress brought tears into her eyes and bubbling up her throat. A thousand crazy thoughts ran through her head—maybe this could work between them. Sex appeal could turn into more so easily.

She started to withdraw, and he gave her a fraction of space. Enough for him to whisper, “There. Now I’ve breached my contract. I’m not in the top three, which means I’m free to be with you.”

Shock made her blink several times before her mind caught up and she could form words. “Oh Dusty, tell me you didn’t’ throw this competition on purpose.”

He gave a rumble of a laugh she felt more than heard. Shivers traveled through her body. “No, it was just dumb errors on my part and a streak of bad luck. You win some, you lose some. There’s always next year.”

“But the contract. Daddy will want to find somebody else to sponsor.”

“I don’t give a damn as long as I get the girl.”

She searched his gaze, feeling his words slip past her reserves like smoke through vents. Each syllable curled inside her. Her lips fell open and a puff of air burst out.

“Avalee, sugar. I don’t care about the gold buckle or the sponsorship. I just want you.”

* * * * *

She made a noise that hurt and healed at the same time. He swooped in and claimed her lips, taking what he wanted and feeling her slowly become his own sweet Avalee again. She wrapped her arms around his neck, going on tiptoe to kiss him more thoroughly.

She tasted like salty tears and pure heaven. He swiped his tongue across hers again and again until his cock was straining and she was rocking into it.