Chasin' Eight (Rough Riders #11)(65)

“Hey. Great night for a rodeo, huh?”

The guy rolled his eyes and returned to fiddling with his camera.
So much for Midwestern friendliness.
Ava draped the strap of her video camera over a fence rail and held the Nikon. She’d intended to only snap a few pictures to keep up her cover, but her lens kept coming across fascinating subjects on the periphery and in the arena.
Time sped by so quickly she was surprised to hear the announcement for bull riding. She switched out cameras and zoomed to the action in the chutes. Chase and a young kid were helping an older guy get set to ride. She hadn’t thought of Chase as a team player, so seeing him in that role was a little shocking.
Rather than focusing on the bull and rider when the chute opened, she kept her lens on Chase and his young buddy. Both guys were rapt, hands circled around the top metal bar, lips moving with silent encouragement. They whooped when the ride ended successfully and high-fived each other.
Ava grinned right along with them.
The kid was up. Chase and the older guy helped situate him, holding the bull rope, dropping a booted foot into the pen, forcing the bull to stand up. For the hundredth time Ava was grateful for the days she spent at the Bar 9 with Gemma sharing her knowledge of the sport.
And once again she left the camera on Chase. He seemed tenser watching his young friend ride. More relieved than happy when the kid reached the eight-second buzzer and scored eighty-three points.
Then Chase was all business. With the zoom function when she zeroed in on his face. His fierceness, concentration and ruggedness were absolutely mesmerizing.
She shifted her position after Chase slipped on his helmet. Her heart raced when he climbed into the chute. Would she ever lose her fear for him in those seconds he tried to master a fifteen-hundred-pound beast?
Her lens panned the surrounding cowboys as Chase readied his bull rope. Few paid attention. How different would their attitudes be if they realized Chase McKay was set to ride?
The gate banged open. She literally held her breath as Chase and the bull exited the chute in an explosion of dirt. Chase countered the animal’s every twisting maneuver. Staying strong. Keeping his seat. Maintaining his fluidity. His control. His mastery. He made it look so effortless. He was sheer physical perfection. Grace and flow.
No wonder Chase had buckle bunnies dogging him after a performance. Seeing him move like that on a bull, they imagined how he moved while riding them.
Don’t pretend you haven’t imagined it.
Ava watched him tug off his helmet and squint at the scoreboard. The announcer drawled, “You just watched the ride to beat, folks. Let’s give Bill Chase a hand for his ninety point ride!”

That was his best ride and score yet.
That caused contestants to look at him differently. Her lens tracked his progress as he accepted handshakes and pats on the back. But his young buddy showed his excitement by picking Chase up and spinning him around. For being self-conscious about his height, Chase took it with humor. Then he knocked the kid’s cowboy hat off his head and strode away.
You could be in big trouble, falling for this man, Ava.
No. She was in lust with him. His “just friends” edict made him more appealing because she hadn’t been just friends with a guy since high school.
Something caused Chase to look her direction. He aimed a smoldering stare at her. A stare that seared her body right through the lens. A stare packed with so much raw sexual power Ava bobbled the camera. Her pulse pounded as Chase took his own sweet time sauntering toward her, but his posture wasn’t the least bit casual. “That was some ride, Sundance.”

“Thanks. Felt good.” Those stunning blue eyes searched hers carefully from beneath the brim of his ratty-ass ball cap. He blurted, “Will you leave the contestant area with me tonight?”