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“That sounds promising.”

“It’s an art.” He barely kept his smile in check. “And it’s more in the release and follow-through rather than the throwing.”

He showed her the parts of the rope. The hondo, the tip, and the distance between, which was a shank that could vary in length. Bodhi held her hands on the rope, and he ran through the basics, checking to see if she had asked out of idle curiosity or if she was really interested. Nico listened intently, so Bodhi continued with specific instructions.

“First thing is you need to learn to make a coil. Hold the tip, throw down the rest and then go down an arm’s length and turn it over and make a nice coil.”

He demonstrated, and then she coiled the rope confidently.

“Good.” He stole a kiss.

“How do I throw?”

“You don’t really throw. It’s more of a release. But first you have to make a loop. Hold the hondo and slide it through about an arm’s length.”

Nico frowned and watched him. Then she pulled out her phone and began to video him. “Run through it again and explain.”

“Really?”

“I love your voice, and I want to remember,” she said. “It will be a souvenir.”

For when she left.

And he left.

It took Bodhi a moment to compose himself. And then he ran through the basics.

“You’re a good teacher,” she interrupted, “and you move like water and are so easy to watch. Then you’ve got that voice and penetrating eye contact.”

“You looking for a roping lesson souvenir video or round two?”

She was totally turning him on at the same time she was complimenting him on something that was important.

“Roping now. Round two later,” she said, still filming.

He breathed away the flare of heat. “I do a lot of demonstrations for kids on the tour. We sign up for times in the activity tents to meet fans and to demonstrate certain skills.”

“And then you demonstrate other skills after the rodeo.”

It didn’t sit right to have her bring up other women, although he’d announced he’d had a lot of women—a flashing red light warning her. But now he didn’t want to think about any other woman than Nico.

“Let’s leave our pasts out of this magic we’ve got going,” he said. He didn’t want to think about her with other men, especially the loser or losers who had made her self-conscious about her body or sexual responses and who had left her unfulfilled.

“Exactly.” She smiled. “Did you think about Ashni this afternoon when we were swimming?”

“No! Of course not!” He dropped the rope and looked around. “Why would you even ask that?” he demanded.

She picked up the rope and recoiled it, this time keeping the coils flat.

“I was proving my point that you are more in love with the memory of being in love than still being in love. And now show me how to make a loop. I might want to catch a runaway something in the future.”

He played her observation over and over while he showed her how to hold the hondo and slide the rope through it. “Like with most things, you want to keep your eye on what you want to rope, your index finger is your guide, pointing at your target, and you want to swing your loop above your head to get momentum. It’s more of a build and release rather than a throw. It’s a feel, a rhythm, and I won’t lie. It takes some practice.”

He released the rope, which settled over her body, and he pulled her to him.

“Is that supposed to impress or scare her?” Granddad walked out of the shadows.

“I asked for a demonstration of Bodhi’s roping skills,” Nico said cheekily.