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“I do. My favorite part is the burgers and rehashing part of the event. Sitting and bullshitting in our lawn chairs.”

“See? Made for each other.” He needed Dalton to know he wanted to be right where he was.

“I can’t wait to bring you home. I got a nice place.”

“Attached to Dustin’s?”

“We share barns and an outside kitchen deal.”

“That sounds like heaven.” It really did. The twins needed to be close. Tank had never met a pair who didn’t.

“It is. It’s a good spot.” The Jakobys had a huge spread out in the hill country between Austin and San Antonio.

“I can’t wait to see.” Tank drove them back to the rodeo grounds, after fetching Starbucks and tacos, and he found himself reluctant to let Dalton go. “Okay, baby. I guess you got to go work.”

“I do. I have to do my thing.” Dalton grabbed the bags and the drink holder. “I’ll see you this afternoon, sir. Have a good one.”

“Hey.” He leaned over, not wanting to upset the balancing act by grabbing. “I need something to tide me over.” He offered up his mouth.

“Oh.” Dalton moaned, the sound erotic as all fuck. “Yes, please.”

The kiss liked to burn him to the ground.

Tank’s lips were on fire, his whole body tingling, all the way down to his toes. “Now, that’s better.”

“Yessir. I’ll feel your mark, every time I rope.”

“Good.” He nodded happily. “That’s what I want.”

“Have a good afternoon, you. I’ll see you at work.”

“You will.” Tank waited for Dalton to move before he turned off in order to go park. He had about an hour before the guys showed up. He might take a shower.

He might go sit in the trailer and love the fact that his toothbrush was in the bathroom and his gear was in the closet.

How damn cool was that? He grabbed his coffee. That was good shit.

It was good to be home.

Chapter Eighteen

“LOOK ATy’all, having a party.”

The big-time bull riders swooped in, bringing a case of beer and a couple huge boxes of Wallyworld chicken, chairs, and a rush of noise.

Deb smiled over, and Dustin beamed. “Hey, y’all! Join us!”

Dalton managed a smile, because they’d all been real nice, decent. Hell, he knew he was just a jealous butthead, stressing about all the larger-than-life personalities they had. These were people who did commercials, TV, that were flashy.

Athletes in jeans.

He was just a pick-up man, and he worried. These guys kept trying to draw Tank back to the big show with them, and then what would Dalton do?

He chuckled softly. He’d do his job. This was what he was born for, what he was built for. A broken heart had never stopped him before, had it?

No, he wasn’t gonna think on that too much.

Tank had been at the medical trailer, sitting with one of the bull riders, a young kid just up from Pasadena. He showed up a few minutes after the guys from the big show, Buick Davis in tow.