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“Did they now? Y’all have a come-to-Jesus meeting?”

“We did try to be sporting and warn them off. Then they called Brick Johnson a hillbilly.” Brick would take redneck. He would take trashy. Hillbilly made him see bright crimson.

“Oh. I been there when that happened once. Did ten thousand dollars’ worth of damage to Jean Bodark’s face.”

“Holy shit. How did he do that much damage and Jean still have a face?” That actually made him look away from Dalton.

“Mostly it was in the teeth. Dental work’s damn expensive.”

“Right.” He had two bridges himself from horns in the face.

“Yeah, we all know, don’t we?”

Rodeo left scars. It was the way of it. Denver had one thumb half missing and a deep scar on his chin. Tank reached up to touch the one under his eye that he could occasionally cover with makeup on retro night.

Even Dalton wore a roper’s scar, cutting deep into the corner of his lip.

God, he was pretty. Tank didn’t dare let it show right now, but he wanted. Badly.

Dalton rode up to the fence. “Pops, Tank. How are y’all?”

“Good, son, good. Want some water?” Denver reached out to put a hand on the mare’s nose.

“I do, thanks. She’s doing good today, huh? I’m real pleased.”

“She is.” Tank grabbed a water from a nearby cooler. “Here you go.” Jesus, this close up, Dalton was like a cowboy god. Tank was gonna spring wood.

“Thanks, man.” Dalton leaned down, the sun shining off the deeply tanned skin.

Jesus. Their hands touched, and damn if the earth didn’t move.

Dalton’s eyes went wide, the chips of bright blue dancing.

Denver cleared his throat, and Dalton sat up in the saddle, cheeks pink.

“Thanks. I’m going to go get her rubbed down and get a shower before it gets late. See y’all in a bit.”

Tank lifted a hand to wave, then glanced at Denver to make sure he wasn’t getting a look.

Denver’s eyes were on the arena, checking things. How many rodeos had this guy seen? Hundreds. Maybe a thousand or more. He’d been at it a long damn time.

“One more Sunday afternoon, huh?” Denver said.

“You know it. The adrenaline is already pumping. You can feel it from the church service.”

“You can. I’m going to check on Deb. She’s got food poisoning.”

“Tell her I hope she’s feeling better.” Tank turned to the arena, empty now.

“Will do.”

“Hey, Tank, you busy?” Dustin came jogging up. How did one twin seem so much less sexual than the other? “I need some help with one of the gates.”

“I’m at your service, boss.” He laughed when Dustin stuck out his tongue. “You are, though. You’re a good manager.”

“Yeah, yeah. You going to hunt my brother’s ass, Tank?”

“Whut?” He stopped, staring at Dustin.