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I swallowed, my throat suddenly dry, and turned toward the arena. “I’ll see y’all around.”
I didn’t wait for Hunt or Duke to respond; I moved through the throng of people near the holding pens.
As I walked, I hugged the old ranchers I’d known since childhood and joked with the younger cowboys who thought they had something to prove.
"Damn, girl, you ever gonna give me a shot?" A man drawled as I walked past, tipping his hat.
"You ain't got the horsepower." I smirked as I hugged the cowboy. “How are you doin’, Weston Tate? It’s been a minute and then some.”
Laughter rippled through Weston. He lifted me off my feet and gave me a swing before setting me down. “You’re a sight for sore eyes, gorgeous.”
I caught sight of Maverick leaning against the rail, watching one of his horses run in the timed events. He turned when he saw me, grinning wide before pulling me into a quick hug.
“Tate, you hittin’ on my girl?” He swung his arm around me.
“No, sir. My wife will cut my balls off and feed ‘em to me.” Weston winked at me. “Dakota is pissed as hell you haven’t called.”
Dakota was Weston’s lovely wife. They had a small ranch near Colorado Springs, and I’d gotten to know them over the years during rodeos and meet-ups.
“How’s she doin’?” I asked. “Must be big as a house.”
“Yeah, she is, and she’s allowed to say it, but not me.” Weston grinned. “We catch up tonight?”
“Sure.”
“The Rusty Spur?”
“You know I’ll be there.”
Maverick and I walked toward the beer tent, the scent of grilled meat and spilled whiskey thick in the air. The place was packed—cowboys fresh off their rides, locals in dusty boots, rodeo fans nursing cold beers while the sound of the bronc riding still roared behind us.
A long wooden bar stretched across the back, lined with people ordering drinks. Makeshift cocktail tables—half whiskey barrels with plywood tops—were scattered around. Neon beer signs flickered against the tent walls, their glow casting everything in a hazy golden light.
Maverick tipped his hat back, eyeing the crowd. "Damn, half the county’s in here."
"And the other half’s still in the stands."
“Where’s Joy?” I asked.
“Where do you think?” he replied sardonically.
I laughed. “She found a cowboy?”
“Or two,” Mav muttered.
We sidled up to the bar, squeezing between a couple of ranch hands already deep in their cups. The bartender, a middle-aged woman with silver hoop earrings and an easy way about her, barely looked up as she slid two longnecks across the counter.
"On the house," she said with a knowing grin. "That was one hell of a ride, sweetheart."
I nodded my thanks, twistingoff the cap and took a long draw. Maverick leaned against the bar beside me, his eyes moving around the tent.
"So," he drawled, giving me a sideways look. "Your boyfriend is watching you.”
I spluttered some of my drink. “The fuck?”
Maverick chuckled. “Duke. He’s with Kaz, and he’s looking at me like he’d like to hand me my teeth. You wanna tell me what the fuck’s goin’ on between the two of you?”
“Nothing.” I wiped my mouth with my sleeve.