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“Bodhi.” She took his hand gently in hers. “Ouch. You were hit by something.”

So that she wouldn’t be.

Her fingers gently skimmed along the wound.

“We should go back to the house. Do you have a first aid kit? We need to ice the injury.” She kissed his hand and, still cradling it, held it to her cheek.

“I’ll drive you to the emergency room for an X-ray.”

“I’m fine.”

“Bodhi, you were injured helping me. Let me help you,” she entreated, and as she met all that dark blue of his beautiful eyes, she felt a little dizzy and breathless and realized she was talking about more than helping with his physical injury. She felt horribly exposed.

“You do realize what I do for a living.” His smile was lazy, confident. With his uninjured hand he traced the line of her face. “I get banged up a lot.”

She tightened her grip on his fingers, hating the idea of him hurt and alone.

“More than a few times a season I get tossed hard in the dirt off a bull or bronc’s back. Sometimes I’m kicked if I don’t get out of the way fast enough. I always believe I’m going to stick the eight seconds, but when I don’t, I pop back up and climb back on the next week.”

She shuddered a little. She’d been looking forward to watching him compete this weekend, but now she knew she’d be scared he’d get hurt.

“Bodhi, it’s really beginning to swell. What about this weekend? You might not be able to compete.”

“And miss you cheering me on in my hometown?” He kissed her. “I’m not only going to ride, I’m going to win. This isn’t even my hold hand,” he said in an aw-shucks way. “But I do appreciate your concern.” His eyes darkened. “I do, Nico, but I’ll be okay.”

“Why do you do it?” she asked, not even sure what she was asking—why rodeo, why ride when injured, why risk himself over and over again, why flaunt the laws of physics when the risks were so great?

But she realized she was really asking why her family had also flown too close to the sun for so long. The data had been clear. They’d stifled the data. Manipulated it. Ignored it. For money. For influence.

A little like Bodhi, except he risked himself only, not millions of faceless strangers. He was more honest about the risk. But his family would be hurt.

I would hurt.

She felt a little sick thinking about him getting injured, but also stupid-girl swoony that he had put himself in harm’s way to protect her.

“I like the challenge,” he said after thinking on his answer. “I like to win, but mostly, I’ve enjoyed this time with my cousins. Pitting my wits and my skills against them. They up my game, and I think I up theirs. We’ve always been tight. Always. I was once thinking about med school—riding rodeo for a few years and then heading back to school, but we were winning and neither of them showed any signs of quitting, and I didn’t want to be the first to peel off.”

“Ego,” she diagnosed.

He smiled, and the faint lines along his cheek creased down from his eyes in such a sexy way that a pulse kicked up between her thighs. This man was fire, and he knew it.

“Family,” he replied. “Family keeps you strong.”

“Family makes you vulnerable,” she answered.

“There can be strength in vulnerability.”

Maybe. She didn’t feel strong. Not yet. But no. That was wrong. She’d pulled away. She’d answered the call of her inner voice inside, but not until… She squeezed her eyes shut again, hearing the voice, the words, seeing such a deep raw hurt and then the blood.

“Hey.” Bodhi had her in his arms now, and he kissed the top of her head and then her cheek. “Where’d you go? You’re trembling. Come back with me here and now.”

She burrowed into him, holding on tight and kissed him. It wasn’t meant to be a sexual kiss, but the fire between them sparked, ignited, and soon her fingers were in his hair and his were on her body, and she knew they had to stop because Bowen and Langston were going to be working up here today, helping them pressure wash the barn and set up the temporary stage for the dancing and the hay bales and picnic tables for sitting, eating and conversing.

But she could feel his hard length press against her, and her sanity and good intentions didn’t have much armor against that.

“We have to stop,” she murmured tugging up his T-shirt so that she could kiss, lick and nip her way across his chest.

“You first.” He had her shirt up as well and her bra undone so his hand cupped her breasts.