“Ow. That hurt.”
“Thank me later when Winter wants to give you a congratulatory blow job for winning.”
I rub at the spot where he jammed his fingers. “Rude.”
“Fast Fire doesn’t care about who’s in the stands. He just wants you dead. You drew a good bull. Unless you fall off, then you drew a mean fucker. Don’t let him win.”
That comment snaps me out of my horny stupor.
“You’re the last rider to go. That worm Emmett came back with a good score today. Better than you scored last night. He won’t give up the championship easily, so buckle up, Buttercup. You’re gonna need to hit the spurs hard tonight.”
I nod. He’s right. I’m going to have to make this bull madder than he already will be. And he’s already known to be wrathful. That’s why he’s got a spot on the circuit.
“Shoulders back. Chin down. And get ready for the direction change so you don’t go straight down the well. I’m only going to be your hero once in this lifetime. Got it?”
“Got it.” I feel it then. The focus. The calm. The sense I’m sitting exactly where my dad once was. Doing what he did.
Every time I step up here, every time I sit on a bull, I feel closer to my dad than I do anywhere else.
We watch Jude. He lasts the eight seconds, but it was a simple ride. Nothing the judges will love.
“Heads up! Fast Fire!” someone calls.
The black bull trots down the chute straight into the pen, eyes wild, a string of saliva already dripping from his mouth.
Some people might think now is when the nerves kick in, but for me, it’s the opposite.
Now is when everything other than a stupid level of confidence in myself melts away. My heart rate evens out. Every rational thought in my head grows wings and takes flight.
I’m the fucking best at this. And I’m about to prove it.
I drop onto Fast Fire’s back and he jostles me around, pitching a fit. I ignore him, tug the bull rope, and stroke it to warm the rosin.
It’s second nature, steps I could do with my eyes closed. I thrive with the dependability of the process.
As my hand works over the rope, I peek up to where Winter and Vivi are seated.
Correction: where they’re standing.
Winter is on her feet, body swaying back and forth. She has Vivi propped on her arm like it’s a seat, facing out over the ring.
I think someone behind her tells her to sit down because her lips clearly say fuck off.
A grin twists my lips, and I turn my focus back to my hand. Wrapping the rope. Testing the tightness. Shifting my seat on the bull’s back. Giving him one roll of the spur to piss him off more.
Rhett says something to me, but I block him out.
And I nod.
Fast Fire rockets into the ring, bucking hard enough that the clumps of dirt flying from his hooves hit my helmet. He spins left viciously. With my core engaged, arm held in the perfect L, I don’t let him shift me.
I keep my chin down, but don’t look at the ground. That’s not where I want to end up.
My feet slide back. My spurs hit again.
He drops a shoulder. He turns.
I expect it and smile when I keep centered through the change in direction.
“Got you, fucker,” I grit out, having the time of my life.
It is both the fastest and slowest eight seconds of my life. The buzzer sounds and I get the hell out of there. A cowboy rides up beside me and I reach for him, taking the lift down and away from the bull. My days of tempting fate by doing a showy dismount are done.
The rodeo clown distracts Fast Fire, and I beeline it for the side closest to Winter. I climb the fence, rip my helmet off, and look for her immediately.
Vivi is getting jostled in her arms, because she’s jumping and screaming. Hooting like a mad woman.
“Get ’em, baby!” she shouts as she waves at me.
And when they announce a 96.25 score, she starts all over again. I care a lot less about the score than I do about laughing. My chest cracks wide open for the blonde who is “really fucking mad” at me but is here cheering her ass off like I’m her favorite person in the world while holding our daughter.
It’s crazy. It’s unbelievable. It’s unlikely.
The woman everyone told me was cold, mean, and unavailable is so thoroughly mine.
And that’s special. That’s everything.
“Winter!” I call up at least ten rows. “Get your fine ass down here!”
Her cheeks turn pink, blue eyes glittering like sapphires. With a wide grin, she shoves past people in her row to hit the stairs.
When she gets to me, she climbs up a couple of rungs and breathlessly blurts, “I’m not mad at you anymore. I’m just really, really horny after that ride.”
She says it loud enough that the trill of chuckles filters in from around us.
I kiss Vivi’s crown and give Winter my most knowing smirk before whispering in her ear, “Am I fucking you like a princess or a slut later?”
And just before she kisses me, she chuckles and responds with, “I don’t care as long as you fuck me like I’m yours.”
I kiss her back and then leap from the panels with a cocky wink in her direction before turning and striding toward the podium they’ve moved into place. Emmett is waiting on the lower side.
“Don’t get used to it, Silva. You’re not as talented as your dad.”
“Charming, Bush.” I slap him on the shoulder. Even this douche can’t ruin my good mood tonight.
I step up above him, using his shoulder like a banister to get into place. “I might not be talented like him, but I am nice like him. So, congrats on your season so far.”
He gives me a stunned expression.
I grin before adding, “It’s a shame I’m about to ruin it.”
The suits come out and talk about the night—the sport, the thrill—but my gaze keeps shifting back to Winter. Rhett has moved over to join her on the fence and they’re both watching.
I’m snapped out of gawking at her when the announcer asks me to talk about my first weekend back after an injury.
“Break down your win for us tonight.”
I take the microphone from his hand but look back over at Winter, all shiny and glowing. All smiles and excitement.
All mine.
“Well, my time off went different than expected,” I start. “The rehab was fairly straightforward. I don’t think I’ll have any lasting effects to worry about, which is great. But the real highlight was getting to spend some quality time with my family.” I tip my chin toward the fence. “Got my baby girl and my future wife here with me tonight. They make this win extra special.”
The announcer chuckles and a collective chorus of aww sounds from the audience, but my gaze stays locked on Winter.
She doesn’t roll her eyes at my showboating.
She winks at me.
“Anything you want to say to this future wife of yours tonight, Silva?”
I don’t need to think twice.
I hold the mic up to my lips and murmur, “Te vivo.”
It’s better than “I love you”.
It’s more accurate.
It’s us.
40
Winter
Kip: I know I haven’t been there for you, but I want to change that. I want to help. Summer told me about Rob. Please let me put you in touch with my family lawyer. She’s the best.
Winter: Of course Summer did. Why do you have a family lawyer?
Kip: Have you not spoken to your mom?
Winter: Ha. Seriously? I stopped speaking to Marina the day she suggested I pass Vivi off as Rob’s. Did she not tell you?
Kip: Well, we’re not on speaking terms either. Asking for a divorce went over poorly.
Winter: You’re getting a
divorce?
Kip: Yes.
Winter: Finally.
Winter: And yeah, I’ll take that contact.
“Do you want me to throw these flowers out?”
Theo eyes the vase of red roses in the middle of the counter like he wants to pulverize them, not just throw them out.
“No. I’m keeping them.”
He scowls at me. He’s been in a bit of a funk since getting home. I know he planned to stay on the road between the two events, to immerse himself in the back-to-back weekend competitions.
But I told him I needed him, and he came back without batting an eyelash.
“For what reason?”
“They’re pretty.” I shrug. “Seems a shame to waste them, you know?” I point at him. “Is that what you’re wearing to court?”
He looks down at himself. Dark jeans hug his muscular thighs, and a white shirt with a deep V shows the chain that hangs over a light dusting of chest hair. He’s pulled the brim of his cap down low, but I see his brows knitted together and his expression of genuine confusion.
“What do you mean?”
I wave a hand over my sapphire blue pantsuit, feeling more like pre-baby Winter than I have in a long time. “Is that what you’re wearing in the courthouse? I mean, if you wear those unlaced boots with that, I’ll maul you after we leave. But I was just wondering.”
“I wasn’t planning to go in.”
My hand freezes over the glass of water I was about to pick up. “What?”
“I mean, the summons was for you, right? And Vivi?”