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He looked down at the ground and shook his head. “I could fuck up my leg even worse than it is now. It’s not worth it for eight seconds of glory.”

She squinted at him. “Why don’t I believe you?”

“Because you’re a smart woman. I figure if I keep telling myself that, it’ll sink in and I’ll start believing it. Fake it, until you make it.”

“Do you want to watch the final rides?” she asked.

“Nope,” he said. “I’d rather get a good spot up front to listen to the band.”

“But first,” Reba said. “Ice cream and churros.”

“Naturally.”

They shared a big churro, but had their own ice cream. Shane was a purist ordering a dish of two scoops of vanilla. Reba wanted to walk on the wild side a bit and ordered the brown sugar bourbon ice cream.

She closed her eyes in bliss. “You’ve got to try this.”

But when she opened her eyes, Shane was looking at her rather hungrily. She nearly dropped her bowl. And when he tasted a sample of the ice cream off her spoon, Reba felt a rush of heat.

By the time they finished and disposed of their dessert, the band came on stage and started their first song.

“Want to dance?” Shane asked.

“You bet I do.” Reba slipped into Shane’s arms and even though there wasn’t a lot of room, they managed to two-step without bumping into anyone else.

It was easy to dance with him. He was strong and graceful. Reba couldn’t help leaning into him and resting her head on his chest when the band played one of their slower songs.

Her phone started buzzing like crazy, but Reba didn’t want to answer it. She was off duty if it was a vet call, and her sisters were around if it was family-related. Although, as they twirled as the music became livelier, Reba had a bad thought that maybe LeAnn had gotten hurt.

After the song ended, she pulled her phone out of her back pocket and checked it. There were a bunch of missed calls throughout the day, but no one had left her a voicemail message and she didn’t recognize any of the numbers. The most recent notifications came from one number. They called five times in the past hour. “I should see who this is,” Reba said apologetically.

“I’ll go with you,” Shane said, following her away from the band.

She walked toward the veterinarian’s compound out of habit and when she felt she could hear over the crowd and the band, she called the number.

“Reba, is that you?”

“Yes. Who’s this?”

“My name is Keith. We met the other day.”

Keith Kilgore. Dr. Kilgore’s nephew. Reba made a face. “What can I do for you?”

“What are you doing tonight?”

“I’m sorry.” Ugh, why did she apologize? “I’ve got plans and I need to get back to them. Is there something you needed?”

“Yeah, let’s meet for lunch tomorrow.”

“No,” Reba said, not elaborating.

“No?”

Just like his uncle. Apparently, Keith wasn’t used to hearing that word either. She searched her feelings and realized that facing down another Kilgore didn’t fill her with dread.

“Why not?” he asked.

Reba didn’t elaborate. She didn’t owe anyone an explanation. Surely not an entitled bull rider who thought he could snap his fingers and she would jump.