Page 1 of Ace of Spades (Hidden Creek Ranch #1)

HAILEY

There’s a flow of energy between a horse and a rider. Not seen, not spoken—but felt in the bones. It thrums through the reins, coils down the spine, flickers in the twitch of an ear, or the slight shift of weight in the saddle. It’s a silent language, built on trust and instinct.

I can feel my mare beneath me now—every breath, every tremor, every threat of fire that passes between us. Our adrenaline rises in tandem, wild and electric.

Casino dances beneath me, her nostrils flaring and every muscle coiled with the need to run as I hold her back, slowly advancing down the alley. The crowd is a living thing tonight—loud, massive, and the biggest I’d ever raced in front of before.

I wait for that click between us, the moment when everything feels in sync. A calm washes over me, dissipating any remaining nerves as I settle in my seat.

And then we’re flying.

“I thought you guys were gonna stay around to watch my run?” I ask, finding Ava and Brad sitting at one of the bar tops.

The stockyards were lined with various honkytonks and saloons, but the rodeo crowd tended to stick together, usually landing themselves at the rowdiest bar in whatever town held the rodeo.

That was my understanding, at least, so I wouldn’t have had any issues finding the place even without the help of Ava’s text.

“I was totally going to, but I really wanted to beat the traffic getting off of the rodeo grounds before it got too bad,” she tells me, offering me an apologetic look.

“You know I wanted to, babe—I swear, but the team roping was right before barrels, so I couldn’t make it there in time,” Brad says.

“Tie-down was right before barrels…”

“Oh. Well, next time, I promise. There are plenty more rodeos this season. Besides, I’m sure you did great.”

“I placed first.”

“Damn, girl, way to go!” Ava cheers.

“That’s amazing, Hails!” Brad chimes in. “Here—let me buy us a celebratory round of shots. ”

“I’ll pass, I plan on getting out of here early tomorrow morning.”

“I’ll take one!” Ava tells him.

I take the seat beside Ava’s, hanging my purse over the back of the barstool as I allow myself to take a better look around now that I’ve found my friends.

A sea of cowboy hats fills the bar; the air resonates with the clatter of pool balls cracking against each other, the creak of barstools, and the thunk of cowboy boots on the worn wooden floors.

Neon signs light the place in a dim glow, the cigarette smoke wafting in the air even with the very obvious No Smoking signs strewn about. After all, good luck telling a cowboy what to do.

“Well, here’s to our first rodeo of the season!” Ava tells me, lifting her beer bottle into the air before taking a swig, her dark corkscrew curls bouncing under her hat as she slams it back down onto the bar top.

“Don’t you just love the rodeo crowd?”

“It’s definitely nothing like the college rodeos,” I admit.

“Right? I mean, just look at all the cowboys. We’re hot, we’re single, and my bestie just placed first in her first-ever rodeo in the circuit—we can practically take our pick of any of the guys here.”

“As if Brad would let that happen,” I mutter.

Brad was… I didn’t know what Brad was anymore.

We grew up in the same hometown, and I guess you could say that we dated for a period of time before college—If you could even call it that.

He took me to prom, drove me to local rodeos, and took my virginity in the back of his pickup our senior year .

Our families were tight, considering that our dads were business partners. But other than that, things hadn’t been the same since I got back from college. It was as if a few years in the rodeo circuit and a couple of championship wins had gone straight to his head.

“I don’t think he’d even notice, he seems pretty busy entertaining some of the buckle bunnies from back home.”

I turn towards the direction that Ava’s head nods. Sure enough, the man in question is standing at the bar, getting all close and friendly with one of the girls from Canyon Springs.

“At least be my wing-woman,” Ava pleads.

“So, who are we going for? I’m feeling a little wild tonight, I’m thinking maybe some roughies.

You know what they say—date a roper for the money, and have a roughie on the side when you want a good lay.

Well, we’ve already got the money in the bag, so I’m thinking we go with the latter. ”

“No thanks,” I tell her. “Not really my type.”

“Come on, don’t tell me you’re too clean for the roughies. It’s fun to get a little dirty sometimes. You’re a cowgirl, after all.”

“Yeah—I ride horses, not dick.”

Ava rolls her eyes, lifting her beer to her lips as I wave the bartender down for a water.

“You’re no fun, you need more daddy issues.”

“Sorry, I’ll get right on that.”

“Okay, hear me out—” She turns to point toward the pool tables in the back corner, where four of the biggest names in the WPRA happen to be standing. “Weston Langford, Chance Crowley, Rafe Kincaid, and Beau Bennet. ”

My heart rate increases at seeing all of them in person for the first time. The TV screens don’t do them justice, all of them far more handsome than I would have imagined, and all in different ways.

Rafe and Beau have a cleaner look to them, the pair of blond team ropers similar enough to look like brothers if it weren’t for the difference in their size.

Rafe’s hair was slightly darker—more of a dirty blonde, a perpetual look of disinterest on his face.

He had a slightly larger build, unlike Beau, who edged more on the lankier side.

“Rafe and Beau are more your type since you’re into team ropers and all, but I’ve heard through the grapevine that Rafe is emotionally unavailable and Beau’s practically all wifed-up. Weston and Chance, though…”

My eyes move over to the two roughies racking up the balls.

Chance was above average height for a bull rider, with a muscular build and shaggy brown hair.

From the little I’d seen of him, I could already tell he was the outgoing one in the group: Charming, goofy, with a smile I’m sure had dropped quite a few panties in the past.

And then, there was Weston. Three-time defending world champion bronc rider, ladies' man—or at least, as rumor would claim—and a sight to behold.

He was nearly as tall as Chance, easily six-four or six-five.

Tattoos snaked down one arm, one of them peeking through the collar of his shirt and onto his neck.

Cigarette in hand and dark hair peeking from under his hat, he held a lazy grin on his face, the only thing making him look slightly less intimidating .

“And you just moved to their town! That works out perfectly, you can introduce us,” Ava continues.

“I doubt that’s a great idea. In case you haven’t noticed, Cedar Creek isn’t exactly too fond of my family moving there.”

“I really don’t think they care,” she argues.

“I can guarantee you that they do. My dad’s practically been getting death threats from the townspeople ever since he announced the new resort we’re building. They hate us, Ava, I’m telling you.”

“He’s really been getting death threats?” she asks, her brown eyes going wide.

“I mean, no, but close enough. I haven’t even tried going into town since moving in with my parents, my dad says it’s rough out there. We knew they’d be opposed to change, but it’s all a bit dramatic if you ask me.”

“I’m telling you, it’s going to be fine. Which one do you want? Tall, dark, and handsome, or pretty boy? I guarantee that they’re both great in bed, I can tell just from the looks of them.”

“You sure you’re not just saying that because of the rumors?”

“Okay, well that too. But I feel like they’d be good in different ways, you know?

I feel like Chance would make it fun, he’s such a goofball.

Now, Weston—” she fans herself. “That looks like a man that wouldn’t be afraid to throw you around a little, you know what I mean. He exudes big dick energy.”

“Who are we talking about?” Brad cuts in, placing the shots on the bar table. Ava throws hers down in one go, Brad following suit, the smell of the amber liquid tickling my nostrils from here .

“Ava’s trying to figure out which of the roughies she wants to take home tonight,” I tell him. “She’s trying to decide between Weston Langford and Chance Crowley.”

“Those two? Yikes. Watch out, you might get fleas.”

“Not sure about the fleas,” a deep voice cuts in from behind us, and a shiver skates down my spine. I turn to find none other than the two men in question, my head tilting back to find a dangerous pair of green eyes studying me.

“But we do bite,” Weston finishes with a wolfish grin.

Chance stands at Weston’s side, a mischievous look in his eyes as he snaps his teeth in the air.

“Sup Langford. Crowley,” Brad greets from beside me, his tone devoid of any warmth.

“Easton,” Chance acknowledges. Weston remains silent, a quiet authority about him. He carries himself effortlessly, yet there’s a commanding presence about him.

I roll my eyes, already annoyed with the masculine display and the tension killing the mood.

“Brad, why don’t you go get me a beer?”

Brad doesn’t acknowledge me as he continues whatever staredown is going on between the three guys.

“Brad.”

He finally turns to me, jaw tight as he gets up from his seat and leaves the table.

“Quite the tight leash you’ve got on your man there,” Weston smirks, taking another drag of his cigarette.

“I’m a cowgirl. I think if I can control a thousand-pound animal, I can keep a grown man in line.” I tell him. “And he’s not my man. ”

“That’s right—if she can control a thousand-pound animal between her legs, imagine the other things she can do with those thighs,” my friend chimes in, causing me to spit out my water.

“Ava!”

“Well, we would love to hear more about how you ladies ride,” Chance drawls, shooting a wink in Ava’s direction as he takes the open seat at her side.

“I’m Ava, I run breakaway. And this is my friend Hailey—barrel racer, breakaway roper, and just placed first in barrels at her first ever rodeo in the circuit,” she brags on my behalf.

“Is that right?”

“Yeah! And she actually just moved to Cedar Creek, how funny is that?”

“Well, maybe we could take y’all out sometime, show you the town. We’re gentlemen, after all,” Chance tells her, lifting his beer to his lips.

“We would love that,” Ava speaks for the both of us. “You see, Hailey? And you were all nervous. She said that you guys might not like her since her parents are building some resort or something, I told her she was just being crazy.”

An awkward silence passes between the group.

“You’re the Sorrels girl?” Weston asks.

“I am.”

Something unspoken passes between Chance and Weston, the grin on Chance’s face still plastered in place though I catch it falling just the slightest.

“I think we should probably go,” Weston states, his vivid green eyes now cold as he regards me with total indifference. I’m not saying that I cared for his attention, but the rejection hurts nonetheless.

Chance moves to stand, Weston taking a step away from the table as Ava turns to me with a panicked expression and pleading eyes.

“It’s fine—I was just going anyway,” I sigh, grabbing my purse and finishing my water.

“You sure?” she asks.

“Yeah. Gotta get up early anyways, remember?”

I don’t bother to find Brad to say goodbye before leaving, Ava mouthing I love you as I force an unbothered smile. My first solo rodeo without competing on a collegiate team, my first pro rodeo win, and not one person to watch me compete or celebrate with.

“Wonderful,” I mutter to myself.