Page 57 of Back in the Saddle

Caroline let out a sound somewhere between a moan and a gasp as he bit the soft skin at the base of her neck. Her fingers sunk into his hair, pulling at the roots, hard.

He kissed her again, their tongues battling against each other, like they wouldn’t survive if the contact was severed.

It was like they both had forgotten themselves and where they were.

Finally, they broke apart and Caroline wobbled as he lowered her to the ground. She pressed her forehead against his and drew a shaky breath, fingers of one hand curled in his belt loops.

‘To be continued another time?’ She bit her lip, locking eyes with him.

Hunter kissed her again, slowly this time, feeling her smile on his mouth. ‘I’ll be counting down the minutes.’

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

Caroline

‘Next up is Deacon Clade, champion from Wyoming! Let’s see how he fares against Thor’s Hammer. Come on!’

Caroline held her breath and pushed her fingernails into her palms, watching the enormous brown bull practically fly out of its chute with its rider grasping the flat rope that was looped tight around the animal’s chest. His other hand stayed above his helmet-clad head.

‘And he’s down early! 4.13 seconds.’

She watched the rider go down, diving face-first into the sand. The metal cage of his helmet cushioned the fall, and he rolled sideways to avoid the thunder. With quick instinct, he shot up and scrambled away from the bucking bull. A trio of bullfighters stepped closer, distracting the animal and ushering it back to the chute with the help of pickup men.

Caroline craned her neck to look up at a big digitalboard where the scores were displayed. Deacon Clade got no score.

‘What do you think?’ Hunter leaned in, raising his voice so she could hear him over the chatter in the stalls.

She slowly turned to him, wide-eyed. ‘Are you serious? This is nuts!’

He chuckled in response.

‘I mean it. Why would anyone ever willingly do something so dangerous?’

When Hunter had asked if Caroline was free on Saturday, going to a rodeo was the last thing she’d expected. Yet here she was, trying to blend in with her brown leather cowboy boots and a new hat she’d bought for the occasion.

She peered down at the arena, where Ted Toad from South Carolina was just announced next in line. He held on better than Deacon Clade, though she thought his bull wasn’t bucking as wildly as the last one. Eight seconds were up before she could blink, and Ted jumped down, landing on his feet and pelting away while the bullfighters lured the furious bull towards the chute.

‘Because it’s fun?’ Hunter shrugged, handing her a half-full plastic cup. ‘The physicality, the excitement. It’s unpredictable – the ultimate adrenaline rush. Plus, you listen to this crowd, they love it. It’s easy to feed off that.’

Ted got a score of forty-seven.

She wordlessly took the cup and took a long sip of soda. ‘I think it’s reckless.’

‘Well, yes. I won’t argue with you there.’ Hunter smirked, taking the cup and chugging back the rest of the liquid.

‘Did you ever do it? Ride bulls?’ she asked cautiously, looking at him.

His eyes met hers and he flashed her a wide, confidentsmile. ‘Not bulls. But I did quite a bit of bareback bronc riding, only stopped a couple of years ago.’

‘What’s that?’ Caroline asked, not able to resist watching the next rider up in the arena from the corner of her eye.

‘Another type of what’s called rough stock events. Bareback bronc riding is the oldest rodeo sport. It’s similar to bull riding but you’re riding a bucking bronc not a bull. Bronc is the term for an untamed horse that habitually bucks. You need a free hand too, and another hand goes on a riggin’, which is customised to the rider’s grip and gets attached to a piece of leather; all that is wrapped around the bronc’s girth.’

‘So, a bit more than just a rope,’ she said, motioning towards the arena.

‘Yeah, people describe it as a suitcase-style handhold.’

Caroline shook her head, feeling a small smile tug on her lips.Suitcase-style, honestly.