Beauty and the Bull Rider (Hotel Rodeo #3)

“You didn’t answer my question. How’s he gonna take it when he finds out?”


“He already knows. Matter of fact, he encouraged it.” It was a half-truth, but it was past time to shut this subject down. Ty would know all soon enough. Zac even hoped he’d stand up with them—that is if Zac could ever get up the nerve to ask Delaney.





CHAPTER ELEVEN


Rather than waiting for Zac to return, Delaney made her own way to the main house, where Chase introduced her to his large and boisterous family. Zac appeared shortly after, but remained unusually aloof and conspicuously quiet as Chase led them out to a string of saddled trail horses waiting for the paying guests.

They set out at a leisurely pace, with Delaney intentionally hanging back to study the two cowboys as they rode. Both sat confidently in the saddle, but Chase was smaller, lean and wiry compared to the brawny Zac McDaniel. The contrast didn’t end there. Always joking and nearly bursting with kinetic energy, Chase was almost a foil to the calmer and quieter Zac. She wondered how they’d become such good friends. Then again, the cowboy world was a universe unto itself, with a culture and creed shared by all.

Chase guided them out to the top of a bluff that offered a commanding view of the majestic Rio Grande as it meandered through a valley of leafy cottonwood trees. His pride in their piece of this high desert landscape was evident as he pointed out the various landmarks that identified the boundaries of the Lazy Q ranch.

Zac pulled up beside Delaney just in time to watch the setting ball of fire cast shadows of pink over the rocky peaks of the Sandia Mountains. “What did I tell you about that sunset?”

“It’s incredible,” Delaney said. He hadn’t exaggerated the magnificence of it. The show was nothing short of spectacular. Too bad she was too uptight to truly appreciate it. “What’s wrong, Zac?” she asked, unable to stand the silent treatment any longer.

“What do you mean?”

“The way you left today. Your remoteness. I don’t understand it. Did I do something to piss you off?”

He jerked his head back in surprise. “Is that what you think?”

“Frankly, I don’t know what to think.”

“We’ll talk. I promise,” he said. “Tonight.”

Dark was settling in fast. Chase signaled the group to turn back toward home. They arrived back at the ranch just as the last rays of sun dipped below the horizon. After a quick wash-up, Zac and Delaney joined the Quinns and their guests for supper in a rustic dining hall with Mexican tile floors and exposed beam ceilings. The meal consisted of several savory dishes of beef and wild game, accompanied by beans and rice, all prepared with a distinctly Southwestern flair. The meal was good, but once more Delaney’s low spirits were less than conducive to fully enjoying it.

After dinner, they had drinks around an outdoor fire pit. As expected, Chase was the life of the party, telling jokes and sharing rodeo stories, while Zac continued as before, unusually subdued, sitting with his boot heels propped on the edge of the fire pit and his hat tipped back, nursing a beer, and stealing occasional heated looks in her direction. Delaney couldn’t comprehend the mixed signals. Yet, each time he looked her way, she experienced a tightening in her belly that three glasses of wine had failed to dispel.

It was around nine o’clock when Zac finally rose and made his and Delaney’s excuses to their hosts with an apology about having to rise early. Delaney followed his lead, exchanging smiles, handshakes and more pleasantries, all while hyper-aware of Zac’s big, warm hand lightly resting on the small of her back. They exchanged no words as they followed a xeriscaped luminary-lit path back to their cabin. But this time, when he opened the door, long-stemmed red roses graced the table and fireplace mantel, with lit candles creating a soft, romantic glow.

“Roses? Candles?” Delaney paused on the threshold. “Whose idea was this?”

Zac’s face colored slightly. “It must be a mistake. Told you they use this for the honeymooners. You can take this bed. I’ll take the loft.” He pointed. “There’s a twin up there.”

“So there are two beds?” she remarked.

“Yup,” he grunted.

“It doesn’t seem right that you should take the smaller one.”

“Doesn’t matter to me,” he said. “Give me a pillow and I can sleep anywhere. Hell, I’ve spent more nights in bathtubs than I ever care to recall.”

“Zac,” she began slowly, her stomach knotting. “I don’t understand any of this. When you told me we were coming here, I had the distinct impression that we were going to . . .”