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“Any reason?” He liked to keep up with rumors even if he wasn’t a gossip. Half the time they yielded true, and he was better off prepared.

“I think Robin just likes it. You know how he is. He can’t never just let someone be.”

“How’s Tony holding up under it?” Tony could have a hot-flash temper. Tank would hate to get on his bad side, but Robin was a funnyman. They always had to poke and poke.

“Well….”

They both watched as Robin hit the dirt, Tony popping his ass once but good.

“Looks like he’s got it under control.” Tank hooted, slapping his leg.Go Tony!

He shook his head, smiling as Tony got the clown upright. It was fixin’ to be a good night. He could feel it.

The bronc riders were starting to file in. “Robin, go get your makeup on!”

“On it. Be out shortly!” Robin did a half-assed cartwheel and ran off.

“Y’all ready for the entry parade?” The Jakoby outfit did it old-school, and he loved that. Hell, he loved to watch Dalton Jakoby on horseback.

The hot little son of a bitch was made for horseback. And speak of the devil, Dalton and KC Hanson rode into the arena, ready to exercise their mounts for the night.

The sleek bay moved like a dream, Dalton working him like a master, the two animals working in tandem.

That was something to see, and he stood there until Greg whapped his arm. “We need to get going, man.”

“Right. Sorry. That a new horse?”

Greg shrugged. “The man can have any mount he wants.”

“You got a problem with Dalton?” he asked.

“Huh? The boss? Shit no. I just mean I don’t pay attention to his horses.”

“Oh.” Tank relaxed, his hands unclenching. Right. He needed to not get so defensive.

“Dalton’s the best horseman I’ve ever worked with. Dustin’s way more like to act the boss, you know? Dustin’s running shit on the back end like a demon.”

“No shit?” Dustin always seemed so calm all the damn time.

“He doesn’t suffer fools, not at all.”

“Huh.” He would have to watch that. Still waters ran deep. One way or the other, it was good to know how much Dalton had the men’s respect. Lord, he was a little stupid about that man.

“Tank. The procession starts in ten.”

“Shit. I’m supposed to be on horseback.” His warm-up was done. He was getting a special introduction tonight. “Time to cowboy up.”

“Uh-huh. You riding in your uniform or you putting jeans on?”

“I better put them on.” He sighed. All this dressing and undressing.

“Your inner thighs will thank you later, man.”

“No shit. So will my pads.” He ducked back behind the chutes, hunting his bag in the riders-only area.

“I got you a horse saddled, Tank.” Miss Deb was there, a big rawboned monster waiting for him.

“Thanks, lady. You know how long it’s been? I shoulda practiced.”