Page 78 of On the Wild Side
“Yeah, it’s like a challenge to the bull,” he says with a shrug. “Bruiser was a son of a bitch. Mean old thing. Not as bad as Bushwacker, though.”
“Which one will you be riding this week?”
“I’ll tell you when it’s over.” He kisses my head, and I frown up at him. “Call me superstitious, okay? When it’s over, babe.”
I sigh and go back to watching him, over and over again. He explains the point system to me, the importance of certain things, and why it’s done the way it is, for the safety of the rider and the animal.
“Is that Dirks?” I ask, pointing to a handsome blond man, and Brady nods.
“Yeah, that’s him.”
He pushes play on one ride from last year, where he falls and has a huge gash in his head, bleeding badly, and I have to turn and bury my face in his chest, cringing away from the injury.
“And that’s why I don’t want you there,” he murmurs as he closes the laptop and sets it aside. “You don’t need to see me get hurt.”
“You get hurt, in some way or another, almost every time.”
“Usually,” he agrees with a grin but then sobers when I frown at him. “It’s not usually that bad, Abs. Mostly, what hurts the most right now is knowing that I’ll be gone from you two for a few days.”
“When do you fly home?” I ask him.
“Wednesday. But then I’ll be back out on Sunday. That’s how it’s going to be for a few months. I’ll be in and out.”
“If it weren’t for me, would you usually come home between events?”
“Usually, yes. I don’t live on the road.”
“And when is the season over?”
“End of October.”
I let out a long, slow breath. “Okay, then.”
He takes my chin in his fingers and makes me look up at him. “Are you okay?”
“I have to be.” I smile up at him, but I’m trembling inside. “Because my man is a cowboy.”
“Listen to me, Abbi. It’s going to be a long summer, but it’s going to fly by at the same time. I’ll be here roughly half of each week. There will be weeks that I don’t have to go anywhere at all, but most of the time, I will. I’ll be in touch with you constantly.”
“You don’t have to explain?—”
“Yeah, I fucking do, because I don’t want you to worry or wonder or come to any ridiculous conclusions because I didn’t communicate with you. There will be women there. We call them buckle bunnies, but they’re basically groupies. I haven’t had anything to do with them in a decade, but you’ll see them hanging around in photos, and because the media are assholes, they might try to say some shit about that.”
“You’re a rock star.”
“In this world, yeah. I am. And that’s not my ego talking. I’m flying out the morning before ride day, I’ll be at the show, and then I’m flying right back home.Youare my focus.”
“No.” I shake my head and shift on the couch so I’m facing him. “That bull needs to be your focus so that for the rest of the time, all but eight seconds of the week, we can be your focus. I just need you to stay safe. I don’t give a fuck about the women, and I can be without you for a couple of days while you do what you love. I’m not insecure, and I’m not a clingy, whiny brat. I’mproudof you. I can hold down the fort here while you kick ass out there. So you focus on staying alive and healthy and whole, and I’ll be here when you get home.”
He frames my face in his hands, his thumbs brushing over my cheeks, his eyes so intense it almost steals my breath away. “I fucking love you.”
I grin at him now. “I love you, too.”
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
BRADY
“I’m riding Man Hater,” I say into the microphone and push away as the audience cheers. The music is so fucking loud, it pounds through my body, but I don’t hear the words. I’m focused, head down, pacing outside of the chute area.