Page 2 of Buck This (Battle of the Bulls #6)

What are you doing tonight?

She typed out, Whatever I want, Caleb. Same as you , before she deleted it, and ignored the text instead. If she responded, he would run with it, and she would be on the roller coaster again. She couldn’t do it anymore.

Feeling absolutely defeated, she strode for the bar and waited for a bartender to notice her at the end.

While she leaned against the bar top, she scanned the room.

The people here were interesting to watch.

Two girls near her were dressed in cut-off short shorts, and cropped bandana tops.

They wore boots with sparkles on them, fake eyelashes and glossy lipstick, and for a moment, she got caught up in the desire to trade places with them.

They laughed so easily and spoke with such confidence to the cowboys around them.

But her? Torrey? She couldn’t even get the bartender’s attention, and he wasn’t even busy anymore. After making his last drink, he was washing glasses and chatting with another bartender on his other side.

Torrey was invisible.

Story of her life.

She gently bumped her fist onto the bar top and meandered toward the famous people signing autographs. She watched the lines of excited people, holding posters and T-shirts to get signed.

A smile took her lips. This clearing was full of happy people and good mojo. It was nice.

“I like your boots,” someone said.

Torrey rolled her eyes closed and sighed, then without turning around said, “Yeah, yeah. I get it. I don’t fit in.”

“No, I mean I really like them.” The woman was closer now.

Suspiciously, Torrey dared to look over at her. The woman was in her late forties maybe and had jet black curls cascading down her shoulders. She had tattoos on her arms, and an easy smile. She stuck her leg out, and Torrey spied a pair of black Dr. Martens boots on her.

“Oh my gosh, I’m not the only one,” Torrey said with a laugh as relief flooded her.

“Cheers,” the lady said as she held her boot out.

With a grin, Torrey clacked her boot against hers and crossed her arms over her chest. She hadn’t worn a bra tonight and it was getting chilly out here.

“Waiting on friends?” the lady asked.

“Ummm…” Torrey glanced behind her at the exit and thought about it. She honestly didn’t know if Reece would even sit with her in the stands. “I think I’m just doing the solo-thing tonight.”

“I like it.”

Torrey snorted. “I’m undecided if I like it yet or not.”

“You get to do whatever you want.”

“What?”

The lady turned to her and gave her the most genuine smile she’d ever seen.

“You get to do whatever you want. You don’t have to pay attention to anyone else’s needs tonight.

I saw you over by the bar. You were watching the crowds with this little smile on your face.

You’re a people-watcher. If you were with a group of friends, you wouldn’t get to do that.

Or come in here and see what’s going on or find the perfect seat in the bleachers. ”

Torrey nodded. “Yeah.”

“You want that drink? I’ll buy.”

“Oh, you don’t have to do that. The bartenders are busy—”

The woman pointed to the bartender, and he called, “What do you want, boss?”

The woman held up two fingers, and looked at Torrey as she asked, “Beer or margarita?”

“Um, I want to fit in a little better so maybe beer?”

“Margaritas,” the woman called.

The bartender nodded and gave her the thumbs up and went to work making the drinks.

The woman grinned over at her. “We don’t give a shit about fitting in around here.”

Torrey liked her. She scrambled to pull some cash from her wallet as the bartender strode their way with two margaritas in plastic cups.

“Don’t worry about it,” the woman said. “I get them for free.”

“Whoa. Are you famous or something?”

“Nah. Thanks, Brody. This one is with me tonight,” she said as she took her drink.

“You got it,” he said and then sauntered back to the bar.

Torrey cupped her ice-cold drink in her hands. “That was way easier than when I tried it. Can I be you when I grow up?”

The woman laughed and sipped her drink. “I’m Raven.”

Cool name. “I’m Torrey.” She offered her hand for a shake, and Raven shook it. “Who are the guys signing autographs?”

“Some knuckle-head bull shifters. They ran the circuit back in the day. It hasn’t been the same since they retired, so they get asked to sign at events to keep the crowds coming in.”

“That’s cool,” she said, and sipped her drink. “Quickdraw Slow Burn,” she read aloud from the sign in front of one of the men’s tables. He was a giant with dark hair and tattoos down his forearms.

Raven pointed to the next table over. “That’s Two Shots Down. Dead of Winter. First Time Train Wreck. Tuff Enough. Although that one isn’t retired or a bull shifter. He’s a shifter, but he rides broncs. He’s held the number one spot for a while now.”

“Broncs are…”

“Bucking horses.”

“Aaah. Super cool.”

Raven giggled. “I like you.”

“Why? Because I know nothing?”

“You know enough. No, it’s your aura. You are chill. You’re a watcher, but have a naturally happy demeanor, don’t you?”

“Usually. Tonight, I’m kind of off.”

“Everyone has bad days. Your bad day isn’t disguising your aura though. I bet you would put any shifter in here at ease real quick.”

“Oh, I doubt that. I pissed off a shifter outside just a few minutes ago. He was mad-mad. He had to save my life, and I think he doesn’t appreciate inconveniences.”

Raven belted out a laugh. “Well, some men in this circuit just stay mad. They have to. They’re competing for huge money, for sponsors, for media attention, the works.

This is a very competitive circuit, and Bull shifters don’t function scared at events.

They compete best when they’re angry. Forgive their manners.

Most of them are better outside of the events. ”

“Oh, I don’t even know if the guys I ran into is a bull-shifter. He just had bright eyes.”

“Is he cute?”

“So hot,” Torrey huffed in admission.

Raven laughed again. “I met my husband at an event just like this one. Feels like a hundred years ago somedays, and like just yesterday others.”

“Is your husband here?”

“Oh yeah.”

Torrey looked around, but all she saw was a trio of beautiful cowgirls approaching them. “Where is he?”

Raven puckered her lips and canted her head, staring at the tables of famous bull-shifters. “He’s working tonight.” She pointed to the table with Dead of Winter’s sign beside it.

“Holy shit!” Torrey said way too loud. The approaching girls startled, and she hunched her shoulders and mouthed, Sorry . “Holy shit,” she said softer. “That Dead of Winter guy is your husband? There’s like a hundred people in his line.”

Raven giggled and gave a nod, then greeted the cowgirls.

“Can you sign our hats?” One of them asked as she offered Raven a pen.

“I sure can. How are you ladies doing tonight?” she asked as she signed the brim of one of the cream-colored hats.

“What is happening?” Torrey murmured. She studied the signature. Hagan’s Lace.

Chills rippled up her forearms. She’d heard of that name before, and she didn’t even know that much about the shifter rodeo circuits.

Hagan’s Lace was a world class bucker in her prime. One of the only females to do it.

Torrey stood there with her mouth hanging open until the cowgirls left.

“Let me see your ticket,” Raven, aka Hagan’s freaking Lace, said.

“My ticket?” Torrey repeated dumbly.

“Your ticket to the event tonight.”

“Uuuuh, okay.” She pulled up the ticket on her phone.

“General admission. It’s probably too late to get a good seat. Those are first come first serve.”

“It’s okay. I got a margarita from a famous person. Pretty sure I’m not going to care if I have to sit in the nosebleeds.”

“Here,” Raven said, handing her a folded piece of paper. “There are extra seats in our box, and I don’t know if the boys will even get to watch if the autograph lines don’t die down. You may have it to yourself.”

“You want me to have your box. To sit in.”

“Yep. Keep the assholes out of there, will you. If anyone tries to sneak into those seats, tell them you are running security for Hagan’s Lace. They won’t fuck with you.”

Torrey blinked hard. Maybe she was still asleep, and this was all a dream.

Raven pointed toward the exit. “Take a left and follow the rails all the way to a small aisleway with an old man wearing a this-is-my-beer-drinking shirt. His name is Gary Wade. He’ll check your ticket and take you to your seat. Our box is right by the chutes.”

“Should I bring him a beer?” Torrey asked dumbly. “Since he’s wearing his beer drinking T-shirt.”

“Absolutely. He’s a Coors Banquet guy.”

When Torrey turned to the bar, the bartender was already popping the top on a Coors Banquet bottle and lifted it up for her.

“How…”

“Shifter hearing.”

“Are you…are you going to make this the greatest night of my life?” Torrey asked Raven.

Raven belted out a laugh. “You’re fun, Torrey. Tonight, just let go of that bad day. There’s just one catch.”

“I would literally give you my soul right now, what do you want?”

Raven laughed so easily, and Torrey loved it.

“You have to cheer on the bulls tonight. The arena will be divided. Half cheer on the riders, half cheer for the bull shifters.”

“Go bulls,” Torrey said.

“Atta girl.”

“Okay, I’m going to go take my margarita to the box by the chutes now.”

Raven greeted another group of fans. “I’ll be there when I can.”

“I’m off to take a beer to a stranger named Gary Wade,” she said, walking backward.

“He will love it,” Raven called easily.

“Don’t mind me, just headed to a box to cheer on the bulls. By the chutes.”

Raven’s smile was so big as she was talking to her fans.

Today was insane.

Torrey picked up the beer from the bar, tipped the bartender, even though he said she didn’t have to, and then double-fisted the drinks as she marched through the exit toward the other arena, where there were still a billion animals and riders bustling around, preparing for their part in the competition.