Ryder (Rope 'n Ride Series Book 2) (6 page)

She ran her tongue along her lower lip.

Once, when she was little, she’d gotten poison ivy and spent several days itching herself alive. Now, whenever she even
saw
the plant that had caused her so much irritation, she started scratching.

With Ryder, it was the same. She thought about him and her body reacted heatedly—her nipples were hard gems and her panties grew damp.

Fidgeting a bit on the seat, she closed her eyes again and let her mind wander over long, deep kisses in a chute. The strangest place and yet it fit both her and Ryder perfectly.

His deep voice filled her head as she let the truck movement lull her.

I’m a rancher too. Do you do it with ranchers?

No…ranchers.

Then who can you do it with?

Nobody wearing a hat.

She still felt a thrill down to the tips of her toes thinking about him tossing off his hat, determined to win her in any way possible.

Maybe it was time to have a little something for herself. Even a one-night-stand would give her memories to last a lifetime. When she was an old lady, did she really want to have stories about somebody else living it up while she looked on?

They continued down the long road toward Cheyenne. Soon she’d be face-to-face with Ryder and have to make up her mind.

* * * * *

A camera loomed from both the left and right side of Ryder, with one panning across the line of Calhouns from the front. Hell, there was probably one trained on the back of his head too. Now that he thought about it, the hairs on his neck prickled.

Twisting around, he expected to see a lens aimed at him. And was instead met with beautiful gray eyes.

The breath punched from him. He turned all the way around to look at Joy. Shapely in a fitted black T-shirt bearing her father’s name. It appeared to be vintage and two sizes too small. Had it been a shirt from her childhood?

His balls clenched as he scanned her tight body. Dark jeans that fit like a second skin and those adorable boots with a rhinestone pattern across the toes. As they stared at each other, her lashes lowered, giving her an irresistible shy girl look.

He groaned, snagging his brother’s attention. Buck threw a glance over his shoulder and grinned.

“When you gonna go after that?” Buck asked.

Ryder didn’t answer, just tipped his hat to Joy. She responded with a little wave.

Damn, seeing her palms made him think of her hands in his back pockets, kneading his ass. She’d be a wildcat in bed, he had no doubts. A woman that passionate couldn’t withhold a thing—not from him.

He pinned her with his gaze for another long heartbeat before he noticed the cameraman smiling like the village idiot. Swinging his gaze right at the camera, he said, “You get what you wanted?”

“Yep. Should we ask her for a consent to film form?”

“Hell no,” Ryder growled. The last thing he wanted was to yank an innocent woman into the world of production. He could barely take a full breath without a camera recording the expansion of his chest.

The national anthem began to play, and he hurriedly turned to put his hand over his heart. It was pounding as fast as a horse who’d been ridden too long. But he hadn’t been ridden hard or fast—yet.

His brothers loved to sing, adding their deep voices to the crowd of uplifted voices. Channing’s was high and clear, and he couldn’t help but wonder if Joy was singing.

By the time the song had finished, he barely hesitated before whirling to look at her again.

She was gone, but her father stood in her place. As soon as Thunder caught his eye, he smiled and made his way through the crowd to reach him.

For some reason Ryder felt like a kid coming to take the man’s daughter to prom. He planted his boots so he didn’t shift around and waited.

Joy suddenly appeared again, a ray of sun popping from behind a cloud. Ryder tried to school his features, aware of Thunder’s attention on him.

By the time they both reached Ryder, he didn’t think he could feel more off his game. He clenched and unclenched his fingers to dispel his nervousness.

When he glanced around, his family had scattered to ready themselves for their events. Bull riding was often last at these rodeos, since it was the biggest draw, so Ryder had all the time in the world to get Joy alone and kiss that soft smile off her face. Replace it with an expression of bliss.

Thunder shoved his hand at Ryder. “Hello, young man. I was hoping to run into you here in Cheyenne.”

Ryder took his hand, a rough hand that knew hard work every day of his life. Their grasp was equally matched as they pumped their arms up and down.

“Nice to see you, Thunder.”

“Have you met my daughter Joy?”

“Briefly, yes. Nice to see you again.” Ryder held out his hand to her, and she took it. Soft, silky and full of promise. Tension crackled inside him as he looked into her eyes.

Quickly, she released him and gripped her hands together.

“What do you say I buy you a beer?” Thunder asked, clapping Ryder on the shoulder.

“Sounds good. All that singing has left me as dry as dust.”

Thunder chuckled at his half-ass attempt at a joke and Ryder felt like a fool. He didn’t know if he could even tip a beer up to his lips without dumping it down his shirt. Then he’d be facing the woman he liked far too much with another stained shirt.

“Good, let’s head to the concessions, why don’t we?” Thunder took off into the crowd. People stopped him to say hi or take a photo with him, and he was patient with everyone.

Ryder trailed behind with Joy, getting similar treatment. Except there were more fans swamping him and he wasn’t remotely patient. He ground his teeth as people took selfies with him or asked for his autograph. All he wanted was to get Joy alone again.

Halfway to the concession stand, he spotted Wynonna weaving through the throng of people, her hat pulled low. But he knew that grimace on her lips—she was crying.

He rested a hand on Joy’s arm. “Will you go on and tell your father I’ll be right there? I see some family business that needs a minute of my time.”

She blinked up at him, all sweet, feminine cowgirl. Nibbling her lower lip, she looked as if she wanted to say something.

He cottoned on to it. “I know nobody keeps your father waiting, but this is important.” He glanced toward the place where Wynonna had disappeared.

Joy nodded, making her long, thick braid caress her round breast. Ryder clamped off a groan of need and smoothed her arm with his fingers.

“Thank you. I’ll just be a minute.” He reluctantly released her and dodged into the crowd.

As soon as he rounded a hot dog truck, he saw Wynonna standing with Lane, her head on his shoulder and her body giving those little telltale tremors of tears.

“What happened?” Ryder demanded.

Wynonna jerked away from Lane’s hold and narrowed her eyes at Ryder. “Nothing. I’m going back to my room to freshen up before my event.”

Before he could stop her, she was gone.

Ryder and Lane looked at each other. “You’d better tell me,” Ryder said with a note of no-nonsense.

Lane leaned near. “She’s emotional.”

“I can see that. What the hell happened?”

“She and producer broke things off.”

“Thank God.”

“Well yeah, but what if he tells the network and she’s kicked off the show? The series isn’t complete without all of us.” Lane scuffed his knuckles over his jaw.

Dammit, this same clause had Ryder locked in too. Not just into the contract—he could get out of it easy enough if he delivered a right hook to one of the camera guys—but his family was relying on him.

He shook his head and rubbed his own jaw, which was just as square as his brother’s. “What should we do?” he asked Lane.

“Let her go get cleaned up and her head on straight. She’ll be all right. I don’t think she was in love with him.”

“Jesus, was it that serious?”

“’Fraid so. Our sister is tender-hearted. Remember all those wounded animals she dragged into the house and how broken up she’d be that she couldn’t heal them and re-release them to the wild?”

Pushing a breath through his nose, Ryder nodded. “All right, so she got attached. Does Mr. Producer need his balls crushed? Because I’ve got the boots to do it.”

Lane’s lips tipped up. “Not yet. We’ll keep an eye on him though.”

“Who else knows about this?”

Lane gave a laugh that brought several heads around to stare, mostly the female variety. “You know the family—everybody knows.”

“Family meeting after the events,” Ryder said.

“I’ll let everyone know.”

With a nod, Ryder dove back into the crowd to meet up with Thunder and his stunning daughter. He located them at the beer tent. Joy had two cups in hand, and she thrust it at him as he approached. Their fingers brushed around the cool plastic, and she hurriedly pulled free and looked away.

“Let’s take a seat.” Thunder jerked his head toward a picnic table.

Many negotiations had taken place at a county fair picnic table. Businesses were started and terms negotiated. Ryder just never guessed he’d be in this position.

He settled on the bench across from Joy and Thunder. They all took a sip of beer. It tasted like cat piss but at least it was cold.

“You probably know why I’m talking to you, Calhoun.”

He dipped his head. “I can guess.”

“I’ve been watching you for a while now, even before you started with your reality series. You could say I knew the bull rider before he put his own stamp on the world.”

“I appreciate it.” Ryder didn’t dare stare at Joy for too long. He risked her father’s wrath, but worse, he couldn’t trust himself not to lunge across the table, cup her delicate face and lay one on her.

“As you know, I offer my services working with bull riders to get them up to top performance levels. I won’t beat around the bush here—I want to work with you, son.”

Ryder’s chest filled with something warm and helium-like. When was the last time he’d felt this way?

When kissing Joy.

Ryder tried to organize his thoughts. His mother had been excited by the idea of Ryder going pro. But he still wasn’t convinced he was cut out for it. He loved riding bulls—but was he so dedicated that he’d live on the road, constantly alone and out of touch with his family and reality? Was he willing to give up so much for a little more fame and cash prizes?

He pressed his lips together.

Seeing he might be about to turn him down, Thunder raised a hand. “Don’t answer yet. Give it some thought first. I can do a lot for you, Calhoun, but I only take competitors who are devoted to winning.”

Ryder slid his gaze sideways to Joy. She had only taken a sip or two of her beer, but thoughts of tasting it on her ran rampant through his head.

“What do you think?” he asked her.

Her lips popped open in surprise and her eyes rounded. Damn, she had a little spattering of freckles across the bridge of her upturned nose. “I agree with my father—you’re skilled enough. You just need a little honing to take home the whole national title.”

His chest expanded. He held his breath for a heartbeat before releasing it slowly. “Pretty words, for sure. And something to think about. But you’re right—I need to give it some thought. Thank you for your offer.”

A camera zoomed around his head like an annoying shit-fly. He latched onto Joy’s gaze again, and she gave him a little private smile. Did she understand how annoying it was for him to be in the spotlight 24/7? That sweet smile said she did.

“Ryder! There you are!”

He glanced over to see a woman barreling his way, all legs and blonde hair. He recognized her at once and nearly got up and ran for it. The last thing he wanted was a confrontation from a woman he’d slept with months ago in front of Joy.

He stiffened as he spotted her rounded stomach jutting from above her jeans, which had the waist unbuckled and tucked down over her pregnant belly.

“We need to talk, Ryder,” she said, caressing her distended abdomen. “About the baby.”

* * * * *

Joy’s heart slammed against her ribs and she barely gathered enough oxygen to remain upright. She goggled at the scene before her.

This woman—obviously a Buckle Bunny by the looks of her—was approaching Ryder about getting her knocked up?

Or did he already know?

Joy started to get up, and her father followed. “We’ll leave you in privacy,” he muttered.

“Wait, no. This kid can’t be mine. What the hell are you doing, Ashley?”

That he recalled her name meant he had some tie to her. Joy grunted and got to her feet, the few sips of swill she’d drunk sitting like poison in her stomach. She was right about Ryder—he was a no-good cowboy whore like all the rest.

“Joy.” The rough sound of her name on his lips brought her up short. She looked into his eyes, noting shock and fury and hurt on his handsome face.

He shot to his feet.