Hanging On (Jessica Brodie Diaries #2)(2)

“Yeah, you were right—it was you,” I said in a bored, dead pan voice. “Had I known you’d be here I wouldn’t have come.”

“Nice to see you dressed for the occasion,” Adam commented with a wink before he followed William toward the chute.

“Dude, I was straight from working out! How was I supposed to know he would accost me at the hospital!” I said overly loud.

“She said dude!” One of the miniature cowboys giggled as we passed.

“Ty, you sound like an old witch with that cackle,” I muttered darkly.

“Dude, leave me alone,” Ty spat, then resumed his hysteria.

After a few of the young boys had ridden, William made his way over to me. I could feel the anticipation mounting as I watched the play of his muscles and the power of his stride. I wanted to see more, only with fewer clothes.

He must have had an idea what I was thinking because he had a half smile on his face, his gaze never faltering.

He leaned against the fence opposite me, still on the inside of the arena. “Hi gorgeous. Are you bored?"

“Hey. No, not at all. Just taking it all in. It’s nice that it isn’t such a blood sport here like the real rodeo.” I moved closer to the fence, craving contact.

He reached through the bars and trailed his course thumb down my cheek. The contact left a trail of heat on my skin. His eyes held a promise and his lips curved up into a sultry smile. “I really did try to steer clear of you, you know. But you kept pulling me back in. Like gravity. Now I’m caught."

I leaned closer, his musty scent filling my world. I reached through the bars and put my hands on the sides of his rock hard stomach. Heat filled my nethers at the same time as I shivered.

“Lord woman. You’ll be the death of me,” he said in a husky voice. He pulled my face toward his, our lips meeting solidly.

While I was really into kissing him, I wasn’t really into the steel bars smashing up against my face. He must have had the same thought, because backed off.

“That was a bit awkward,” I said, making light of it.

His eyes were on fire through the bars. It was like they reached in and grabbed my soul, clutching me, body and spirit, and sucking me in. I was hooked. Long since hooked. I never wanted him to let go.

I slid my hand up his chest and quietly exhaled, a slight moan tucked into my breath.

“I’m happy that you’re all happy and all the rest, but can we get back to it?” Adam said in an elevated voice.

William slid his thumb across my face lightly, a small smile playing across his face, before he backed away and faced Adam. “You sure can kill a mood.”

Adam flinched when William lightly punched his arm as he walked by, then shook his head, watching William walk toward the chute where a mini cowboy was gingerly sitting onto a patient bull.

“Never seen nothin’ like it,” Adam murmured, for my ears alone. “It’ll take a strong woman to tame that man. But you got a good start on it.” He laughed and ruffled my hair through the bars. He walked away chuckling to himself and shaking his head.

Men were so freaking weird!

I watched while the younger guys got on tame bulls and hopped around the enclosure. It seemed that tonight was armature night. On purpose. It wasn’t until all the really young kids had gone that the older guys—Ty, Adam and William—got to play. It was a different night in the week that the more experienced riders would try their hand with William’s harder stock.

“So, Jess, one-hundred and eighty, huh?” Ty asked while leaning against the gate on the inside of the oval arena.

“I don’t skateboard. Or snowboard, for that matter.”

Ty looked at me cross-wise, meaning he had no idea what I was talking about.

“What?” I clarified.

“My boy Willie. He wants you, he doesn’t want you—how’d you get him to come around?”

“Dressing like a homeless person and hanging around the hospital. No big deal.”

Ty let out a bark of laughter. “Well, he hasn’t poked his head out of his shell for a great many years. Then all of a sudden, there is this chick that’s hanging around, supposed to be available, but if anyone even talks to her Willie shoots death threats with the ol’ peepers. What’s up?”

My stomach was surging at the words. My face was hopefully hiding it. I shrugged, super nonchalant. “I have great blackmail.”

“That it? Well, put a reign to that boy, will you? His moods are awfully poopy sometimes.”

“Did you say poopy?” I asked, chuckles bubbling up.

Ty shrugged.

“No, seriously Ty, did you use poopy as a description? Are you five?”

“Candace would answer yes.” Ty laughed as he walked toward the fallen cowboy who quickly got up and started running for his life while the bull was jumping in the opposite direction.

Next up, Ty. He was the professional rodeo guy. He made a stack of cash riding bulls. Which meant, quite simply, that he was really good.

But William’s bulls, which William bred himself, were better.

Ty rode a giant bastard of a bull, fell off in a heap, then limped to the gate.

“Seven seconds, man,” William shouted. To qualify, a rider needed to stay on for eight. “Was he good, or you bad?”

“Fuck you, Davies!” Ty shouted back, waiting for the bull to trot into the pen before he limped out of the arena.