Back in the Saddle (Jessica Brodie Diaries #1)(25)

“So this one isn’t strong, but wily.”

“Wily?”

“Yeah, wily. Clever.”

He chuckled and put on an English accent. “Yes, wily is the correct descriptor.”

Definitely educated. But then, with all that stuff that Candace said, he would have to be, wouldn’t he?

Poo.

“So that kid is going to expect an easy ride, and get a surprise?”

“I’ll talk to him before then. The worst thing you can do in bull riding is ever expect an easy ride. Even the smallest bulls can give you a jolt. You always have to be prepared or you can really get hurt. You’ll see later. These animals seem like they can’t move all that fast now because of their size, but you’ll be surprised at their temper and how fast they move when pushed.”

“Yeah, I gotta friend like that. So, your beasts are the raw power, just hang on, variety?”

His eyes squinted as he looked at me, a frown creeping into the contours of his face. He glanced toward his bulls, but without actually seeing them. Something was bothering him.

Before I could backtrack, or even figure out which part of the conversation I inserted my foot, he started walking toward his bull pen. A slight shake of head had his anxiety melting, a mischievous look taking over. Naturally I followed.

“I bread that stock myself,” he said as we neared. “Animal breeding is a hobby of mine. They have power, yes. But they have their share of wily as well. You can’t never tell which direction they’re gonna turn. The biggest bull,” he pointed to a giant black bull almost my height, “can turn directions so fast, and with so much force, you get whipped off and hope your arm came with you. He’s a mean one.”

“My goodness, is that a smug smile you have there, sir?”

He winked at me. My spine went to jelly.

“This is the first rodeo for these bulls,” he said as he looked over his stock. “I’m not sure they’ll perform how they should. This is their trial run.”

“And if it goes well?”

“I take ‘em to the bank. Big redoes, hopefully, like in Houston. Let ‘em circuit a while, then stud ‘em out."

“Success.”

His smile ate away my stomach like acid. “Exactly.”

We held eyes for a silent beat, before he said, “I’ve been rude. I’m William. Or Willie, if you prefer.”

I stuck out my hand. “Jessica.”

“And you’re from California?”

“Accent give me away? Or was it my constant scowl?”

“A lot of women scowl when they first see calves fall.” His twinkling eyes melted my pants. “No. There aren’t many secrets in this town.”

“I didn’t realize it was that small.”

“You’d be surprised.” A cloud passed over his face again.

I wondered if he was a bit moody. Not that I’d kick him out of bed for it. Or for anything, actually. Hell, I might have to chain him to keep him put after I tricked him in in the first place.

To keep things moving, I changed the subject. “What else do you tamper with?”

He didn’t shift gears as fast as I did. His eyes still delved into me intently. I felt that pull again, from the center of my being. Like he was reeling me in with his presence alone. I blinked a couple times, trying to clear my head before I did something weird or embarrassing. Suddenly there was a very tight feeling in my groin. Tight and wet.

Oh lord.

“Tamper with?” His voice was wispy.

“Tamper with. You know, play God with. Take over for Mother Nature. I think you called it...breeding?”

His eyes grounded, digesting what I said. Suddenly, his face lit up in a smile that nearly knocked me off my feet.

When was I going to get used to his charisma? Surely I have not always been such a buffoon around pretty people. I wasn’t even this bad when I met Brad Pitt at a club in his really hot days.

It was probably because of his moods. Up, down, sideways, the guy had me on a carnival ride of expectation. And I liked it.

“I breed dogs. Blue Healer and--”

“Willie!”

Eyes snapping into the most focused I’d seen them since he started talking to me, he looked off in the direction of the shout. When he turned back to me, it was with regret. “I’m sorry, I’m needed. We’ll have to continue our lesson another time.” He winked and walked away.

The ass on him just wouldn’t quit!

He abruptly turned, catching me staring at his butt. With a knowing smile, he said, “Oh, and before the day is through I will amend your drinking problem.” He nodded to my empty plastic cup. “I wouldn’t want you to say I spilled your drink and didn’t refill your cup.” He gave me a smile and a nod before he was gone.

I mentally wiped the drool off my chin.

Back at the beer line, my head was drifting. I went over every word we spoke in detail. Every look. Every weird change of mood. I dissected everything, as one did with a new crush, and figured that the weird up’s and down’s was probably stress. He had a lot going on, and my yapping at him wasn’t helping.

Good talk, though. He might be unreachable, but I had touched him!

Tee hee!

“Excuse me, ma’am?”

It took me a second to realize the words were directed at the side of my head.