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“It’s over and I don’t want to think about it anymore.” She squeezed his hand again. “You can help me with that, I think.”

“Anything you need.”

He didn’t understand the husky chuckle she gave him, but he was intrigued. “I hate to be the bearer of bad news,” he said, “but you might be seeing him at the rodeos more frequently.”

She made a face. “Why?”

“How much do you know about how the UPRC gets their bulls for the events?”

“I assume they take bids from the breeders and go with the ones that have the best bulls for the cheapest price.”

Shane nodded. “It’s a little more complicated than that, but that’s the gist of it. You’ve got to have a stellar reputation.”

Reba nodded. “Of course.”

“Except now, from what I hear, the rodeo is thinking of changing their policy to only deal with a few breeders and your Dr. Kilgore is determined to be one of them.”

Reba scoffed. “That’s ridiculous. He doesn’t know the first thing about raising rodeo bulls.”

“I think he’s looking to bring you on to help him out with that.”

Now she snorted. “That’ll be a cold day in hell.”

“Just thought I’d give you the heads-up.”

“Thanks, I appreciate it.” She shook her head in disbelief. “How is that new policy going to affect your ranch?”

“We’ll probably bid for one of the open positions, but I’m not happy about the exclusivity clause that they’re proposing. So far, I haven’t seen a contract and it’s all just discussion at this point. Our bottom line is going to take a hit if we’re no longer supplying the UPRC, but we’ll just concentrate on breeding and putting our bulls into the smaller rodeos.” He sighed. “It stinks, though.”

“I hadn’t heard they were going to do that. Any idea why?”

“They’re trying to stop the blood testing for the animals. Said it’s unnecessary if they’re dealing with dedicated breeders.”

Reba stared at her beer bottle and fiddled with the label, pulling it off in slow tugs. “I’m not so sure about that, but it could be that they’ll look to cut down on the veterinary staff if that comes about.” She made a face. “I could be out of a job. That sucks, too. This is the perfect job for me.”

“Let’s not go counting our chickens before they hatch. Or in this case, calves before they’re birthed, I guess. I didn’t mean to bring the mood down.”

“It’s okay,” she said. “I’d rather be forewarned. It’s just that I was just starting to settle into the job. The idea of starting over isn’t really appealing to me.”

“I think we’re both on the same page.”

“I’ve noticed we’re a lot alike,” she said.

There was a supercharged moment when they just looked at each other. Reba was a damned fine-looking woman, and he wanted to kiss her. He leaned in. She tilted her face up. He very slowly brushed his lips against hers. Time stopped. He lost his breath. Her eyelashes fluttered down. He kissed her again. It was sweet and sexy.

“You’re a nice guy,” she said, cupping his face.

“A nice guy wouldn’t be having thoughts like this,” he said hoarsely. His pulse was hammering, and his jeans were getting uncomfortably tight.

“You rescued kittens.” Reba stroked his cheek. “That’s superhero status in my book.”

“I’m no superhero. Just a beat-up old bull rider,” he said.

“Do you miss it?” she asked, tugging a strand of hair behind her very nibbleable ear.

“Every damned day.” It must have been the beer talking because Shane hadn’t realized that was going to come out of his mouth and the truth in it was raw.

He leaned back, getting comfortable on the chair. There would be more time for kissing later, he hoped. He liked getting to know her, even if she was asking some tough questions about things he’d rather not think about.