Long Hard Ride (Rough Riders #1)(11)

Colby laughed.


The driver’s side door on Trevor’s truck opened and Trevor hopped out. “Hey, my beautiful Gem-stone. How’s tricks?”


She snorted. “You’re as smooth as a baby’s ass, ain’t ya, Trev?”


“I try.”


“Wasted breath on me. I ain’t nearly as tricky as I used to be in my younger years. But I’d be lying if I didn’t tell you I had my fair share of lovesick cowboys trailing behind me.”


Gemma focused on Colby. “What’d you think of that four-year-old bull, Big Time, last night? You looked damn good on him. Too good.


Makes me wonder if I oughta pull him out of rough stock rotation for a while.”


“He’s gotta good spin. He got all four legs off the ground right out of the chute so you’re wrong if you think he’s a gimme. He weren’t easy at all. Shoot, it’s not like I scored a ninety on him, Gem. A couple of the guys said they’d like a chance to test him out. Where’s the next place you’re bringin’ him?”


“Valentine, probably.” Gemma’s shrewd gaze finally landed on Channing. “Since these boys forgot their manners, I’ll just go ahead and introduce myself. Gemma Jansen.”


Channing thrust her hand through the open window and clasped Gemma’s. “Channing Kinkaid.”


“Who’re you here with?”


Colby said, “She’s with me now.”


“Before I was traveling with Jared. It ended when I found out about Jared’s marital status last night.”


A single blonde eyebrow lifted. “You didn’t know?”


“No, ma’am.” She dropped her head, clearly embarrassed.


In a show of support, Colby squeezed the hand he’d placed on Channing’s hip.


Gemma gave her an approving look. “Good to hear. Lots of the girls hitching a ride on the wild side don’t give a rip about the sanctity of marriage. So if you need a break from the rodeo-injury war stories and the testosterone, come find me. We’ll drink whiskey and tell these boys we’re doin’ each other’s hair.”


Channing grinned. “Will do. Thanks.”


Gemma inclined her head and her straw cowboy hat shaded her face.


“Nice day to travel. Behave, boys. Good luck in Limon. See you in Nebraska in a few.”


“Drive safe, senhora.” Edgard thumped the side door and Gemma took off.


Trevor and Edgard conversed in low tones, then Edgard popped the hood of the truck and they fiddled with the engine. Colby opened the rear cab door and gestured for Channing to hop in.


She lifted her satchel over her head, propping it in her lap as she scooted across the leather bench seat. “So what’s the plan?”


“Trev’s gonna drive until he gets tired and then Edgard will take over.”


“What about us?”


Colby kicked aside an empty carton of chocolate milk. “We’ll be on tap for next time when we hit the road for Valentine. Today’s one of our rare off days so enjoy it while it lasts. Usually, we’re rippin’ out of the arena the second we get the payouts and headin’ to the next event.”


Channing scowled at the trash scattered across the floor. “This place is a pigsty.”


“Yep.”


“Doesn’t it bother you?”


“Not particularly.”


“Well, it does me. While we’re waiting on those two, we’re going to pick this crap up and throw it out.”


Colby’s eyes narrowed. “You ain’t our maid, Chan.”


“You need one. Besides, I said we, not me.” Her crafty smile turned into a frown as she picked up a crusty, half-eaten cinnamon roll wedged under the muddy floor mat. “Ugh. Find me something to use as a garbage bag.”


He rummaged under the seat until he found one. Shoving cellophane Twinkie wrappers, empty cans of Copenhagen and Skoal, half-full bottles of Gatorade in the clear plastic shopping bag, Colby couldn’t recall the last time he’d cared enough to clean up for a woman. Never maybe.


“Do you guys really eat this kind of junk food all the time?”


“No. Sometimes we roll through the McDonald’s drive-thru.”


Channing chucked a gray athletic sock in the bag. “Here’s a warning, this stuff isn’t real food. It’ll kill you.”


“I know.” Colby found the matching dirty sock and balled it up and threw it in the trash. “We do have a kitchen in the trailer.”


“Do you use it?”


“Not really.”


“Well, it’s stupid not to. When we get to Limon, we’ll go to a real grocery store—not a convenience store—and stock up on real food.


Because I can’t eat like this.”


“Why not? Ain’t that part of the appeal of rodeo? Fried Twinkies, nachos, and cold beer?”


“Not for me.” Channing dangled a crumpled package of cheddar flavored Bugles in front of his face. “I’d be easier to jump over than walk around if I shoved this crap in my mouth every damn day.”