Chasin' Eight (Rough Riders #11)(138)

“Don’t f*cking touch me.”

“I’m sorry. I’ve never hit another person in my life. I don’t know what got into me.”

“You were acting. Playing the part of the outraged woman. Setting the scene. It’s all second nature to you.”

Again her face rivaled a statue’s for stillness.
“Was any of this real?” He laughed harshly. “No. Of course it wasn’t. I’m the typical dumb cowboy, believing a beautiful, filthy rich, famous woman like you could fall for a man like me. I probably deserve this. Maybe especially after my womanizing ways over the years. But knocked flat and humbled on camera before millions of people seems a harsh comeuppance.”

“I wasn’t acting.”

“Not when it came to sex. Some things can’t be faked.”

Ava wrapped her arms around herself and looked away.
Then Chase knew. She couldn’t fake her body’s reaction to him, but she could set the scene to force his hand. “That first time… Now that I think about it, the loser bar rat in our room. He was a total plant, wasn’t he? A guy supposed to drive me into a jealous rage. Force me into taking you to bed before another man beat me to it.”

She didn’t deny anything.
“I’ll take the lapse in judgment. I’ll take my licks for bein’ played for a fool by you. But I will take them in private.”

“What do you mean?”

“After bein’ in the PBR for years, I know enough about release forms to remember that I didn’t sign anything that allows you to use any images of me. No pictures, no sound bites, no videos, no quotes, nothin’. You go ahead and make your documentary, Ava, but leave me out of it. There better not be a single word, a single image or a single reference to me anywhere. And if there is? I will file a lawsuit the likes of which you’ve never seen. You may have money, honey, but in the court of law, it’s all about who has the best lawyer. And I guarantee you the one I have on retainer, from the last unauthorized use of my image incident? Lives for shit like this. He’ll make your previous skirmish with the press look like a f*ckin’ picnic.”

“You’re wrong, Chase.”

“Not about this I’m not.”

“No. You’re wrong about me. And if you’d stop acting like the wounded male and let me explain, instead of jumping to the worst possible conclusion—”

“Too late,” he snapped.
“Will you shut up and listen?” Ava drew herself to her full height and looked down on him. But her eyes strayed to the red mark burning on his cheek. Her face held that delicate thread of a woman about to crumble. “I didn’t pull a fast one on you. From the first day I left Denver and stopped periodically to dink around with my cameras, I had no idea what to do with the footage I’d shot. I’d vaguely considered using the scenery as inspiration for a screenplay, which I freely told you the first day we spent together. When I started taping your rides? That changed everything for me. Not because I wanted to exploit you, but everything about your life as a bull rider fascinated me. Scared me. I’d never met anyone like you. That’s not me bullshitting you. That’s not me acting, for Christsake.” She poked him in the chest hard with her perfectly manicured fingernail. “And f*ck you for thinking what happened between us, either between the sheets or on the road, was acting on my part. It was real. As real as it gets. At least I can admit it. At least I’m not freaking out and backtracking like you are, because you’re scared shitless you admitted I’m more than another f*ck-and-run encounter.”