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I chewed on the inside of my cheek. The money could come in handy. I needed some new dance skates, and I wanted to get some ribbons for the cheer squad. And did I mention I may have priced some flights to Denver? Mechanical bull riding wasn’t the sort of thing I’d normally dream of doing, though. I wasn’t like Ginger. I wasn’t a show-woman.

The bull stood riderless on the other side of the room, its padded hulk looking more like an elephant than a cow. “I’ve never ridden anything so big.”

I turned back around to see Brody’s sparkling eyes on my face. “Way to make guys feel inadequate.”

I pulled in a breath at the husky growl of his voice. Before I could defend my poor choice of words, my name rang out loud and clear over the speaker. Cheers rang out, along with some whistles and a couple of “yee-has.” The surrounding crowd magically turned into a bustling mass that pushed me closer to the bull. Eve giggled beside me all the way, giving me tips on how to stay on longer. I heard the words “thighs,” ”grip,” and “trajectory,” but everything else got mixed with the hammering of my heart.

Midway to the leather-clad hunk of metal, a hand tugged at my wrist, pulling me back. I turned around to find Brody’s grinning face. He’d followed me this far, and after giving me a wink and a nod, he reached up and took the cowboy hat from my head, putting it on his own.

“Go get ‘em,” he yelled before the crowd swallowed him whole.

The second I faced the bull, my mouth ran dry. I had serious reservations about my choices. There were plenty of ways to earn money that didn’t involve voluntarily being thrown from a lurching metal lump masquerading as a cow. If I really needed the skates, I could always take out a loan from Tuft Swallow’s only mobster. Wade Biddescombe may impersonate a pastel-wearing realtor, but everyone knew he had a shadowy past that probably involved a few horseheads and the odd pair of concrete boots. Still, the prospect of being knee-capped for non-repayment had to be better than making an absolute fool of myself in front of half the town.

I searched the crowd for Coop but couldn’t see his face amongst the onlookers. At least he wouldn’t witness my humiliation. I wasn’t sure I could say the same for the rest of the onlookers.

A couple of burly helpers hot enough to join the cast of Brokeback Mountain hoisted me up onto the bull, and I gripped the rough surface of the saddle with my thighs. The material rubbed against my bare skin already. At this rate, I’d be a mass of friction burns before I fell off. After some concerningly brief safety instructions, I tightened my grip on the bull’s rope with one hand and held the other above my head, just as they’d shown me.

Far too soon, the bull began to buck and spin, its movements unpredictable and wild. The people who constructed these contraptions allowed no time to warm up, then? The grinning faces of the crowd whirled and pitched in front of me, holding still for a second, then shifting again with every sweep of the bull. Each time the two of us made a rotation, the onlookers cheered.

I clenched my jaw, hoping the gesture came across as an adventurous smile and not just a way to keep my teeth embedded in my gums. With every movement, though, the bull got faster until the world around me blurred into a chaotic whirlwind. Each sudden jerk of momentum threw me forward, then yanked me backward, my butt hitting the saddle with a “whomp” every time.

But I stayed on, and a breathless rush of excitement surged through my body. Maybe I was good at this. The mechanism clunked and ground underneath me, and I pressed my thighs in tighter.

At the undulating movement under my hips, my mind flew back to my night with Brody. The way I’d ground against him as we kissed. How I luxuriated at his solid hips between my legs.A tingle of delight hit me down below, and I sucked in a breath. This was hardly the time to be having impure thoughts of my almost fantasy hook-up. I was practically dry-humping a piece of machinery in a room full of people who knew my grandmother!

On the verge of letting go of the rope, a brief lull in the bull’s movement gave me time to find Brody’s face in the crowd. His darkened eyes glowed with desire, laden with hot intentions. Hungry and glued only on me. Despite my current predicament, I grinned. He was enjoying watching me up here, and my chest pulsed at the thought.

Just then, the bull surged forward, and it was all I could do to stay in the saddle. Like one of the last passengers on the Titanic, I hung on. I clutched the slippery plastic of its nose as my butt left the seat. A roar of approval sounded from the crowd, but as polished white horns rushed past my eyes, I gasped. Eve had said the bulls had foam horns, but these looked way too shiny, too plastic, and one was alarmingly close to the bottom of my left boob.

As quickly as the bull pitched forward, though, it tipped back. Through a feat of surprising finger strength, I kept my grip on the rope, landing in the saddle with a thigh-wobbling slap of skin against leather.

I scanned the crowd, awaiting the cheers at my staying on through such a wild ride, but this time, something was different. No smiling eyes stared back at me. Only wide ones, accompanied by open mouths and a sudden chill of air on my skin.

The chatter in the room had died, and a low whistle rang out from somewhere near the bar, followed by a few more. I drew my brows together. What the hell was going on? Bodies moved in my peripheral vision, and Eve’s voice wrenched me out of my stupor as the bull beneath me continued to buck and pitch.

“Ro!”

I found her in the crowd. Her eyes were as wide as everyone else’s and firmly fixed on my chest. Like time stood still, I followed the direction of her stare straight to my breasts and the lacy red bra I wore.

Wait, what? Why was my bra showing? I’d never normally contemplate such frivolous underwear. Anything so flirty. But in a moment of rebellion against my norm, I’d thrown caution to the wind and worn it underneath my tiny crop top. The same crop top the decidedly not-made-of-foam bull horn had torn down the middle. It must’ve hooked onto the horn with that last crazy movement.

My face torched as, mercifully, the bull's movement lessened to a standstill. The hush of the bar lifted a little, but as a few giggles and snickers rang out, my whole body joined my face at the bonfire party.

Within milliseconds, I moved, scrambling to get off the bull. My boots squeaked against its leather as I shoved at its slippery sides, but I made little progress.

I opened my mouth to scream with sheer frustration, but nothing came out. My breath skittered in my chest. What would everyone think of me? What would Coop think of me? I had to get off this bull.

I blinked the hot prick of tears away, but in answer to my prayers, out of nowhere, solid hands gripped my waist. I left the seat, taking off into the air like a tornado had picked me up. Then, within a heartbeat, a wall of solid warmth enveloped me and cradled me like a baby. Hot breath and lips at my ear.

“I’ve got you.”

At Brody’s words, I relaxed, and in a whirl of lemon and hot, hard pecs, I buried my face into his chest while he carried me out of the Crow.

The cool air hit my skin as Brody pushed through the bar's back door toward the parking lot. By the time he got me outside,tears welled in my eyes, and humiliation burned in my chest. He set me down gently at the corner of the building, the wall casting me in shadow. Despite my undress, the delicious slide down his body was all I could focus on.

With a pull of his breath, Brody stepped away and peeled off his top, handing it to me. He looked at anything but my chest, turning away after giving me a tight smile. I climbed into his T-shirt, pulling the loose fabric around me. I admired his chivalry, but I had to chuckle. Just two days ago, his eyes and hands were all over me.

I tugged down on his shirt, where it skimmed my thighs. “Thank you.” I shook my head, my pigtails brushing my cheeks with the movement. “I’m such a klutz. If an impromptu strip was going to happen to anyone, it would happen to me.”