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CHAPTER 1
Emilia
“Iwant to be a bull rider,” my sister murmurs, releasing a small sigh beside me.
Her gaze is fixed to the TV in front of us, watching an undeniably attractive man climb onto a bull and try his best to hold on for as long as he can. Frankly, I don’t get it. Doing something life-threatening to entertain an audience doesn’t seem like a good idea to me.
But according to Anika, these men can earn up to millions of dollars. Weighing the risk-reward factor, it seems like a pretty sweet deal. Then again, you can’t spend the money if you’re dead.
It’s clear the athletes enjoy it, though. The one currently on the bull is a young man with a cocky smile and when he lifts his head toward the cameras, I catch sight of a glint in his blue eyes that shows he’s having fun.
I reach for a bottle of Coke, taking a swig before turning to give my sister an arched eyebrow.
“Last week you wanted Edward to become one so you could marry a bull rider,” I remind her.
She offers me a sly smirk, her brown eyes twinkling, “And now I want to be one. Why get a man when you can do it yourself?”
“Feminist icon, whoo,” I say half-heartedly. “Can we watch something else?”
“No,” Anika immediately protests. “I want to learn how to ride one of those monsters.”
“Nika, you can’t get on a bull, you’ll die. Settle for riding things that can fit between your legs,” I say with a short laugh.
Her nose wrinkles. “You know, for someone who barely gets any, you sure do make a lot of sex jokes.”
“Hey,” I say slightly offended. “I get some.”
Anika gives me a look that says she totally does not believe me, and she’d be right. I can’t remember the last time I was on a date or had sex. I’m twenty-five years old and the only things I’ve got going for me are the café I own and the house I just bought with my little sister.
Anika makes a short dismissive sound. “Please, the last time I saw you with a man was…” She proceeds to think on it for several seconds. “Damn, I don’t think I’ve ever seen you with a man. That’s kind of sad, sissy.”
“It’s not sad if you consider the fact that you’ve only known me for four years. I’ve been too busy to date,” I say defensively.
“I doubt you had a wild dating life even before we met,” she points out with a sad smile.
She’s probably thinking about said life before we met. Anika’s my half-sister. She’s about two years younger than me, but up until five years ago, I had no idea she existed. My family history is long and complicated, and half the time I refuse to even acknowledge it or the time I spent before I found the family I have now.
“True,” I admit. “But enough about me. The hot cowboy’s about to be thrown off the bull.”
I manage to successfully divert her attention to the TV, and over the next couple of minutes we watch sweaty cowboys try to control the wild animals that seem intent on killing them. Soon enough, I realize we’re running out of snacks, so I get to my feet, telling Anika that I need to make some popcorn.
She waves me off without looking up from the screen. She’s genuinely interested in bull riding, despite not having any idea it was a sport until about a week ago. But that’s Anika. She has dozens of hobbies and interests, which she picks and chooses every other week. She’s tried everything from mountain climbing to sky diving, always looking for some sort of adrenaline high.
We couldn’t be any more different, despite being sisters. We look different, too. While we share the same father, Anika’s mother is a gorgeous Indian woman with the kindest heart ever. Anika takes after her in the looks department too, with her thick, shiny, waist-length black hair and dainty doll-like face. She looks like a vixen but has this innocent, unassuming air about her that draws everyone in.
I’m making the popcorn when I hear a scream that has my heart leaping out of my throat. I grab a knife from the counter before I can blink and run into the living room despite my racing heart.
Fear courses through me and I want nothing more than to take off in the other direction, but it’s not like I can let my little sister get hurt. Once I arrive there, however, I see that the intruder has Anika in a headlock and is currently rubbing his fist into her hair while she struggles for dear life.
The scene would be disturbing if the intruder didn’t have blue eyes the exact same shade as mine and an extremely punchable face. Annoyance immediately fills me.
“What the fuck, Anika? I thought someone broke into the house or something,” I burst out, the knife in my hand clatteringto the floor. I lean against the wall, clutching my still-racing heart.
It’s okay, Emilia. You’re fine. She’s fine. You’re safe.I repeat the words a couple more times in my head before glaring at them both.
“Let her go, Carson,” I say with a sigh.
My brother chuckles before slowly releasing Anika and stepping back. He swipes the half-empty bowl of crackers on the table, shoving a handful into his mouth before collapsing onto the sofa behind him.