Page 48 of Stud Ranch

She nibbled her lip until the skin burned.

“Our very own Boot Knocker has made it to the PBR National finals in Las Vegas four years in a row. He gives his all when he gets on the bulls, folks, and you’re about to see it for yourselves!”

“Oh god.” Her stomach dipped, taking the popcorn in a downward swirl.

Dylan, looking hot as hell in his hat and chaps, held an arm up high in the air. The crowd hooted for him as he strode off the now-muddy ground that had been churned up by hooves during the other events. All of which she’d enjoyed while trying to set aside her worries for Dylan.

Her stare riveted on him… her cowboy, the man she’d spent hours and hours giving and receiving pleasure with over the past few days. He reached the flimsy wooden gate holding back two-thousand pounds of muscled beast.

When he scaled the side and settled over the back of the bull, Sloane’s heart slammed into her ribs hard and fast. She let out a whimper. “I can’t look.”

She twisted her face against Shaw’s big chest. He cradled her against him and brushed a kiss across her temple.

“Then don’t watch.”

“But I have to!” She popped her head back up just in time for a countdown.

“Four…three…two…one!”

The bull blasted out of the gate. She had no memory of jolting to her feet until her knees wobbled, and Shaw anchored her against his rock-hard body. They looked on as Dylan was tossed side to side. He held on even though he began to lean precariously.

As the bull went into a spin, the announcer kept up the commentary about how lethal the particular bull Dylan rode today was.

She cried out. How many more seconds would he have to stay on? Surely a week had passed since he climbed onto that bull.

The huge animal whipped him left, then right. Dylan flew off, his body seeming to spin midair before he slammed into the ground.

“Oh my god!” She made a move to leap out of the stands.

Shaw stopped her. “Stay right here—I’ll go!” He leaped the six feet or so straight from the top to the ground and took off at a dead run for the arena.

Dylan wasn’t moving. What if he was really hurt? She’d been there that night Shaw was carried off the ice on a stretcher after being checked into the boards. She almost didn’t survive it then—and she didn’t think she could now.

She cared about Dylan. There was no way to tell a man she paid to be with her that she was falling for him, but here she sat, her mind glimmering with memory after memory of their short but life-changing time together.

Sometimes the universe didn’t care how long people knew each other, and the longer Sloane sat there waiting for movement from her lover collapsed on the ground, the more convinced she became that Dylan cared for her too.

She clung to the back support of the bleachers, shaking. Shaw shoved several guys out of the way to reach Dylan’s side and hit his knees in the dirt. Even from here, she could see the concern etched on Shaw’s face as he stared down at Dylan.

Then he tossed his head back on a laugh.

The ice in her veins melted, rendering her knees boneless. She sat down hard on the bench, breaths coming in sharp rasps as she realized that Dylan must have said something that made Shaw laugh.

If she were capable of smiling, she just might—the jerk probably said something about losing their bet.

The silent crowd came alive as Dylan slowly peeled himself off the ground with Shaw’s help. Once Dylan gained his feet, he held up a hand in tribute and walked stiffly back behind the fence.

Sloane wasn’t sticking around waiting. She hurtled down the bleachers and was immediately engulfed in the crowd of people who’d got out of their seats for a better look at the injured rider thrown off a bull.

Stupid man. Why do I have to fall for men who take risks with their bodies?

Zigzagging in and out of the mob of people, she worked her way to the opposite end of the arena. Since Shaw was so tall, she made him out immediately.

“Shaw!”

He didn’t hear her, so she tried again. “Shaw!”

She could climb the fence, but a huge tough guy sporting muscles like balloons and a black hat guarded the entrance, holding people back.