Chasin' Eight (Rough Riders #11)(69)

“Except the man seems to be on a sugar-free diet,” she said wryly.
Taz chuckled. “Maybe. But I reckon he’s just trying to keep from gorging himself.”

“Such an overactive imagination, Taz.”

“I try. Better to be one of them colorful characters folks talk about than an average Joe.”

The conversation drifted to Ryan. Upcoming rodeos they’d all be attending. Other events. Then Taz took off, leaving Ava alone. It was enough to give a girl a complex about men.
Right. She already had enough complexes, although she doubted anyone would look at her and believe that.
A guy paused behind the barstool on Ava’s right side. He smiled. “Is this seat taken?”

“No. I was just—”

“Good. I’m Brad.”

Brad was decent-looking. Tall. Mid-forties, with brownish-red hair, his smile nearly hidden by a mustache. “Nice to meet you, Brad. I’m Ava.”

When she offered Brad her hand, he lifted it to his lips. “Enchanted, Ava.”

His calculated charm set off her warning sensors.
He ordered a slow screw up against the wall, Mexican style. Another warning bell pealed. Ava decided to skip politeness and bail on this low-rent lothario.
“You’re giving me the ‘I need to get the hell outta here’ vibe, Ava. What is it about me that’s sending you running? The polyester shirt? The porn star ’stache?”

She couldn’t help but laugh. “Busted.”

“FYI: I’m not trolling.”

“Maybe I am.”

His thick eyebrows lifted. “That old dude your type?”

“No. He was offering me advice.”

“On men?”

“On my career,” she lied.
“Huh. That’s interesting. You compete as a barrel racer or something?”

“Why would you ask that?”

“Because he’s a circuit cowboy. I’ve known guys like him my entire life. Salt of the earth type. But his career is rodeo. He lets his life be measured eight seconds at a time.”

Ava chewed that over, wondering if Chase would end up the same way. Living event to event, trying to recapture former glory. Chasing the buzz and the buzzer.
“So, he wasn’t really giving you career advice, was he?”

“No. But I was going with the old adage about divulging things to a stranger that you wouldn’t discuss with your closest friends.”

“I’m a stranger. Talk to me.”

She scrutinized him. “All joking aside, why should I trust you?”

“It’s a gamble. But life is a gamble, isn’t it?” He sighed. “Confession time. The instant I saw you tonight? Even with the darker hair? I knew exactly who you are, Ava Cooper. I’m a huge fan.”

She froze.
“Don’t worry, I’m not a stalker.” Brad sipped his drink. “In fact, a mutual friend sent me.”

“Chase,” she hissed.
Brad frowned. “No, Hannah.”

“How in the hell do you know Hannah?”

“She’s my niece.”

Ava gave him a cool once-over. “And you just happened to conveniently be in Scottsbluff, Nebraska? Tonight? Bullshit.”

“Nothing convenient about it since I live over three hours from here,” he muttered. “Look. Hannah was more than a little worried about you and this bull rider you’ve hooked up with. She knows I still enjoy a good rodeo, and I’m a lot closer than she is in California. So she called me after you had her make those press passes and asked me to double-check that this cowboy didn’t have you shackled to his pickup or something.”