Mitch stood before her, a brown cowboy hat covering his dark-blond hair. He was clad in a plaid shirt and denims, fancy cowboy boots on his feet. She’d watched him compete, but there had not been time, gratefully, to say a word to him.
She still resented the way he’d unceremoniously dumped her, and at her grandfather’s funeral, no less. She’d once found him handsome, but today he had such a sullen expression on his face, she felt nothing. Absolutely nothing.
“Hello to you too, Mitch.” She brushed a strand of hair out of her eyes and steeled herself for the interrogation.
“Is it true?” Mitch glared at her, his fists resting on his hips. He was husky and tall, all muscle and bone. Not an ounce of fat on him. The build of a tie-down roper. “You pulled my sponsorship?” He practically snarled the accusation.
“My grandfather sponsored you as a favor to me. I no longer wanted the favor.”
“I didn’t think you’d be that petty. I thought this was a business relationship.”
“Based on the premise of a personal relationship—and nothing more. Prescott doesn’t sponsor cowboys. We supply them.” Given the anger stampeding across his face, she decided to forgo mentioning that his standing had fallen so low that even if Prescott did provide sponsorship money to cowboys, he wouldn’t be on the list.
“And not doing a very good job at that, given the incident with the bull today.”
“Things happen.”
“Like you getting hitched to that guy you called an SOB? Didn’t take you long to recover from our breakup, did it? Only I don’t see no ring on your finger.”
His comment about the ring bothered her more than it should have. “I married Ty Martin.”
His gaze roved over her like he was checking for signs of pregnancy. Not the only one who had done so, but it rankled more from him.
“You told me you hated the guy.”
At the time she had. Despite everything, she couldn’t say that now.
“I’ve no more intention of explaining my decisions to you than you have of explaining why you dumped me little more than an hour after we put my grandfather’s body in the ground.” And this was the type of guy who filled too much of the rodeo arena. The type of guy she was likely to meet in her line of work. It didn’t bode well for life after Ty.
“Obviously you didn’t care that much, because you got married like a week later, so don’t go acting like it’s a big thing. But I need that sponsorship money. I’m in the middle of the season. It was a bitchy thing to do, Mandy.”
“Is there a problem here?”
Mandy jumped at the smooth, cold sound of Ty’s voice. He must have come from behind the corrals.
Ty didn’t so much as glance at Mandy. His focus was solidly on Mitch as he walked forward, slow and steady, determined and purposeful. The light caught the streaks of dust that accented his jeans. Sweat marked areas of his white Prescott shirt. With his battered Stetson and scuffed boots, he looked the epitome of the working cowboy.
“Mitch Lockhart, my husband, Ty Martin.” This time the introduction sounded familiar, normal.
Neither man reached out to shake hands.
“Yeah, I got a problem. The problem is that Prescott Rodeo Company canceled my sponsorship in midseason. That’s a piss-poor way to do business.”
“I’m heading up Prescott, and I decided to cancel your sponsorship.”
“No doubt after instructions from your wife.” Mitch’s face twisted in an ugly expression. “It’s all over the circuit that Prescott is in trouble and going on the auction block. Couldn’t happen to a more worthy rodeo supplier. Thanks for screwing me, Mandy—literally and figuratively.” He spit on the ground before turning and walking back into the darkness toward the trailer area.
“So that’s Mitch Lockhart,” Ty said, his eyebrows raised as they both watched Mitch walk away. “He seems like a real dickhead.”
Mandy didn’t like the description, especially since it reflected on her taste in men, but she couldn’t exactly disagree with it.
Ty turned around. “Is that what a trophy boyfriend looks like?”
Mandy didn’t mean to laugh, but the edges of her mouth turned up, and it just gurgled out. “Touché, Mr. Martin.”
Mandy hesitated at the door to the hotel room as Ty lugged their two suitcases through the entryway. There sat one king-sized bed covered in white bed linens and sporting tons of pillows. It seemed her life these days began and ended with hotel rooms. Unfortunately, these hotel rooms were filled with a man she found increasingly attractive—even if he was so wrong for her.
Sex with Ty had definitely complicated things—at least for her. She’d been hoping she could be like him—take it for what it was and not wish or expect something more. Considering how she’d felt about him just a week ago, that shouldn’t have been a problem. But in a short time, things had changed.
And it had her thinking about even bigger changes. Something that would change every aspect of her life, for the better. Something that would give her life meaning beyond Prescott.