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“Why am I dangerous?”

“Because you’re sexy and charming.”

Shane barked out a laugh. “I’ve never been called charming before.”

After they got their sandwiches, they walked back to the vet trailer. Reba had a list of things she needed to do, but she let him drive the golf cart while she finished her lunch.

“I’m booking the flights now,” he said. “Do you need me to give you a ride back from the car rental place tonight?”

“No. LeAnn’s coming with me.”

“Okay. What time will you be ready tomorrow morning?” he asked.

“That depends on when we wake up.” She leaned over and gave him a kiss.

Yeah, he could definitely get used to this.

“I gotta get back to work. Sorry to strand you, but I need the golf cart.”

“Not a problem. I need to work off the fried Oreos anyway.”

The rodeo was in full swing today. Saturday was their busiest day. There were several events going on at once. A ton of families were out and about, and Shane was happy to see a lot of the youth organizations getting involved. There was everything from mutton busting where elementary and middle-school-age children rode sheep, to 4-H events that focused on taking care of animals and showing the high schoolers how to make a profit from selling their stock at auction. That was how he had started out.

The adult events also drew a large crowd. The women’s bronc busting was just as exciting as the men’s event. It had had a rough and rocky start a few years ago, but now it was mainstream. Change was good. Shane would just have to convince his father that being exclusive to the UPRC was the right thing to do for their business. Although, a small voice in the back of his head wondered if that was really the case.

It was a risk to put all your eggs, or this case your bulls, in one basket. But there wasn’t any denying that the UPRC was one of the biggest rodeo outfits in the world. Getting in now could only help the Viking Ranch. And if the ranch made bank with this new contract, then maybe Shane’s father would finally retire. Maybe if they made a shit-ton of cash, he could buy himself a fishing boat down in Florida and spend his days trying to catch mermaids or marlins.

When Shane got back to the bull-riding area, everybody should have been by the front where the bulls were being led into the chutes or waiting in the holding pens for the next rider. There shouldn’t have been anyone in this back area, which is why he was surprised to see Taylor Keating in the same pen as his bulls.

“What the hell you doing?” Shane asked. “You know you’re not supposed to be in there.”

Taylor raised up his hands as two of Shane’s bulls snorted and started to menace the young man. “Don’t get them all riled up. I’m trying to get them used to me.” Taylor slowly backed away, making sure not to make any sudden moves that might enrage or excite the bulls.

Once Taylor was back over on the right side of the fence, Shane raised his voice. “It’s dangerous for both you and for the bulls to be here. You should have at least had somebody with you.”

“I didn’t want to get anyone in trouble.”

“Then why did you do this?”

“I need something to give me an edge,” Taylor said. “I can’t practice any more than I have been. I don’t have enough time, what with bullfighting and bull riding.”

And going out to karaoke and playing pool, Shane thought. He didn’t say that aloud because when he was Taylor’s age, he had sowed a lot of his own wild oats. “You need to pick one,” Shane said instead. “Either you’re a bull rider or a bullfighter. Otherwise, you’re going to be mediocre at both.”

“What you think I should do?”

“That’s up to you. Do what you love more.”

“I love both,” Taylor said. “I love getting paid. I’d make more money bull riding if I could win an event. But bullfighting pays me a steady salary.”

“Sounds to me like you’ve got a tough choice to make,” Shane said. “You can quit the sure thing and start practicing more and see if you can succeed, going eight seconds consistently. Or you can do bull riding for fun and keep your steady paycheck.”

“That’s the gist of it. Although, bull riders get more girls,” Taylor said.

“Sometimes quality is better than quantity.” That had been a tough lesson for Shane to learn. And he wasn’t sure that Taylor would agree with them. But Shane would rather have one night with Reba, than several nights with a woman like his ex-wife Abigail.

“Yeah, the girls don’t really see bullfighters as anything other than a glorified rodeo clown.”

“The right one will appreciate you for who you are,” Shane said, even though he was pretty sure he was wasting his breath.