Cowboy Casanova (Rough Riders #12)(48)

Buck-offs were more common than an eight-second ride so the speculation was high that

Chase had a shot at the championship round, since his first score put him in the top

twelve.


After Keely ended her cell phone call, she squeezed between Cam and Colt on the couch.

“Carter and Jack say hey to everyone.”


“You couldn’t go an entire afternoon without checking in with your lord and master?”

Cord asked.


“I don’t have to check in, jerkface. Jack called me because he misses me.”


“I’ll bet he was drunk,” Cam said.


Keely elbowed him in the gut.


“Brandt, have you checked in with Jessie yet? It’s been at least an hour since

you’ve talked to her.” Dalton added kissing noises and Tell muttered about being

*-whipped. Brandt cuffed them both in the back of the head.


All in all, just a normal McKay gathering.


Chase’s match-up was announced. He’d drawn Red Bull Rebel. Chase was on the bull by

the time the camera panned to him, helmet on, testing his wrap. Another shift of his

hips and he nodded to the gatekeeper.


Red Bull Rebel went nearly vertical right out of the chute. Ben mumbled, “Come on,

bro. You got this. Stay on him.” Chase had total control during the spin. Ben didn’t

look away from the screen until Chase hit the eight-second mark and the cheering

started behind him.


High-fives were exchanged all around the room. Ben grabbed the remote and rewound so

they could watch it again. Immediately after the score of eighty-eight was announced,

the camera panned to Ava, Chase’s wife, in the audience.


“Chase has really turned his ridin’ around,” Brandt said.


Ben muttered, “He needed to.”


“I’ve never seen anyone more determined when we worked them bulls last summer. One

day, Chase climbed on twenty-five bulls.” Colby shook his head. “Crazy damn kid. Me’

n Cash kept waitin’ for him to say enough but he never did.”


“Hey, Ben?” Kane said. “Me’n Kade are goin’ antelope huntin’ next weekend. Do you

still want the hides if we bag a couple?”


“Yeah. Any deer skin you don’t want either.”


“What are you doin’ with them?” Colt asked.


“Tanning them and adding pieces to furniture. I’m not sure if it’ll work, so I need

extra skins to experiment on.”


“I’ll pass the word along. I know Trev and Ed got permits to hunt damn near

everything.”


After Chase placed seventh, the party broke up.


Ben was too restless to sit inside, so he headed out to his workshop. But his thoughts

kept drifting to Angel. He hoped she wouldn’t talk herself out of returning to the

Rawhide.


It’d been a common occurrence, in Ben’s experience, that once a woman was out of the

club atmosphere, she’d get to thinking about how she’d willingly given herself over

to a dominant partner. She’d become mortified by her behavior. In the moment, it’d

been a heady experience. In the outside world, it seemed…wrong. Dirty. Out of

character. A violation of her feminist sensibilities.