Page 25 of Hung Up (Shadow Ridge #1)

LOUISVILLE

it’s not a date

“You’ve been a very good luck charm for me as of late,” I tell Faith as we stand alone in a secluded hallway not far from the chute.

“I’m sure all the sex really helps,” she responds with a shrug, leaning against the wall.

I tilt my head. “Technically, all the sex I was having before you was making my scores worse.”

“What was the one thing I said I wanted you to stop doing?”

“Calling you Sweetheart?” She shakes her head. “Going down on you if I won’t let you reciprocate?” Faith looks like she’s going to smack me, so I quickly say, “Okay, sorry. I’ll stop mentioning my past escapades.”

“Thank you.” She sighs as she lets her head fall back against the wall. “Can I ask you for a favor?”

My eyebrows shoot up. “You’re asking me?”

“Unfortunately,” she grumbles before she straightens, avoiding eye contact with me. “I need you to give me some space today, but you can’t ask me why.”

“Okay,” I drawl, folding my arms over my chest. “Why not?”

“I just said?—”

“I didn’t ask you why, I asked you why not.” I take a step closer to her, closing the gap between us. “What’s going on, Sweetheart?”

“It’s just that?—”

“Faith,” an unfamiliar male voice calls out, growing louder the closer he gets. “Where did you run off to? That blonde one is done, let's go.”

She sighs loudly before looking up at me with an apologetic, strained smile. “I have to go. I’ll see you out there, Pretty Boy. Good luck.”

Faith slips past me before I can stop her, heading to the end of the hall to emerge into the main hall of the arena.

I wait a few seconds before following her, taking a quick scan of my surroundings before stepping into the chaotic throng of riders and workers.

My eyes instantly find Faith, and my brows furrow as I see who she’s with.

He’s the same height as she is in her flats—she opted out of the jeans and blouse with her boots that she wore last weekend for an all-red jumpsuit and little black flats—and is sporting a lanyard identical to Faith’s.

He’s got a beard similar to mine, and the sides of his head are shaved short with the top longer, with gel keeping it upright.

That hairdo alone screams douche bag to me.

I can’t hear what they’re saying, but Faith is standing as rigid as I’ve ever seen her before as he gestures wildly with his hands.

I see her lips moving before he waves his hand off to the side toward the chute as he interrupts her, and her eyes narrow.

I’m unaware that my hands have balled into fists at my side until my palm begins to hurt from my nails digging into them.

Who the hell does he think he is to be talking to her like that?

I’m about to go over there and say something, step in and put this fucker in his place when I hear my name being announced over the loud speaker.

Faith’s head turns in my direction, our gazes locking for a moment before she turns her attention back to the man in front of her.

She’s pointing toward the arena and takes a step to the side when his hand wraps tightly around her wrist.

I’m moving now, heading in their direction, when Wyatt steps in my path.

He wordlessly rests his hands on my shoulders and spins me around, pushing me toward the chute and not giving me any slack to turn around to go back there and give that man a piece of my mind.

Approaching the chute, Wyatt smacks me on the back and climbs up, his eye now on the thrashing bull in the entrapment.

I pull my glove out of my back pocket and slip it on, taking a deep breath before I climb upward.

Swinging my leg over the top, I brace my hands as the men around me hold the rope and gesture for me to get on.

I pulled Ghost Rider for tonight. He’s got a power rating of 90.

5 with eighty-seven outs, but he’s one of the few bulls who stays closer to the gates.

So, if I can hang on, my score could increase significantly more than any other bull.

I slip my hand into the rope and tighten it as much as possible, making sure I can still flex my fingers before I tightly grip the coarse material in my palm.

I glance up at the platform to see that Faith isn’t sitting there.

You got this, I tell myself, closing my eyes as I take a deep, steadying breath. She’s still watching you. You got this.

I nod and the door flies open, and Ghost Rider gives me a run for my money.

He’s twisting before he leaps, and I lean inwards with him right before he tries to buck me off.

I slip slightly but hang on, squeezing my thighs tightly to try and regain my position.

I’m not where I want to be on his back, but by some miracle, I hear the buzzer before he can throw me off.

Yanking my hand free of the rope, my breath hitches as he surprises me with another twist just as I’m trying to dismount.

Flying into the ground, my eyes widen as I see nothing but hooves coming straight toward me.

Frantically digging my boots into the dirt, I hastily roll away and leap to my knees just as the wranglers flag down his attention and get him out of the arena.

I’m breathing heavily as I climb up on shaky legs, barely registering the crowd cheering around me.

That was close, too close.

Glancing around, I spot Faith off to the side of the chute, her eyes the size of saucers and her hand over her heart.

The sight of her brings a wave of calm rushing over me, allowing my brain to slow down as my ears finally register the roaring around me.

I glance up at the scoreboard, a little disappointed with my score, but I know I’ll still be in the top three despite it. I’m just happy to be standing.

I make my way toward the chute and climb the bars, swinging my legs over and jumping onto the cement directly before Faith.

She looks absolutely terrified, and it takes everything in my power not to reach out and comfort her.

I try to give her my best reassuring smile, but it doesn’t seem to convince her.

“I’d love to finish that interview,” I tell her, hoping she’ll read between the lines.

“Of course,” she tells me with a nod of her head, but her voice is shaky. “Media room?”

I extend an arm out, letting her know to walk ahead of me and lead the way. As we make our way to the media room, I notice her hands trembling at her sides, and that makes my heart constrict.

Was she really that worried about me?

Stopping outside the media room, she glances through the tiny window before opening the door.

The second we’re both inside, I close it behind us, pulling the blind over the window.

She startles slightly as I approach her slowly, deliberately backing her up against the table.

When the back of her legs hit the wood and her hands steady herself, I cage her in, my hands on either side of her as I dip my head close enough to hers so our noses are touching.

“Tell me, Sweetheart,” I whisper against her lips, fighting back a smile at the way I hear her breath hitch. “Were you worried about me?”

She swallows audibly. “Don’t flatter yourself, Pretty Boy. I don’t want anyone getting hurt.”

“Say that to me again.” I close the gap between our lips and grab her bottom one between my teeth, nipping lightly. “Only mean it this time.”

“You’re not that special.”

I capture her lips with mine, reveling in the way she immediately kisses me back.

She brings her hands up to loop around my neck and digs them into my hair, not only causing my hat to fall off my head but drawing a guttural moan from my throat.

She sighs as she angles her head to deepen the kiss, but before I can lose myself to her completely and take her right here on this table—which I will do at some point, you can count on that—I break apart and focus my attention on her neck.

“Tell me, Sweetheart,” I start again, her head falling to the side as I nip and kiss my way slowly up to her ear. “Who was that you were arguing with?”

“What?” she whispers, completely lost to the way I’m sucking gently on that sweet spot just behind her ear.

“That man you were talking to.” I pull back just enough to look at her. She peels her eyes open to stare at me, and I have to stop myself from smiling at the glazed look I find there. “Who is he?”

Faith studies me for a moment, and I’m shocked as I watch that glazed look replaced with an angry one. “He’s just a coworker.”

Bullshit.

“And what were you arguing about?” I push, letting my hands run up the side of her thighs, slowly working their way toward her core.

“It’s none of your damn business,” she snaps, her hands falling to my shoulders like she’s going to push me away.

I waste no time as I reconnect our lips, wanting to distract her and stop her from walking away from me. After a few seconds, she goes pliant under my fingers and starts to kiss me back, albeit a little hesitantly, so I murmur between our kisses, “I was scared.”

“You were scared,” she repeats before she breaks the kiss, her hands cupping my face as she studies me, my words registering. “You were scared?”

“Of course.” I nod with a shrug as I try to play it off. “Laying on the ground as you watch a two-thousand-pound bull come barreling toward you? That’s how riders have died.”

She looks like she’s about to say something when we hear the door handle rattle. Thank god I locked it, I wasn't sure if I did . I’m about to start kissing her again, maybe go down on her while I have her alone, when I hear that voice I still don’t have a name for.

“Faith? Why’d you lock the door? Let me in.”

She looks panicked as she shoves me away and I stumble a couple steps backward. She’s scanning the room as he tries the handle again and knocks.

“Quick, get in that closet,” Faith whispers as she points to a small closet that would struggle to fit a small child.

“Are you kidding me?” I whisper back, putting my hands on my hips. “Just say we were finishing up our interview, what’s the big deal?”

She’s in front of me, pushing me as I walk backward toward a different door. “The bathroom, then. Please, Jesse, you wouldn’t understand.”

“Sweetheart—”

“Please.” The broken plea breaks me down instantly, and I can’t stop my groan.

“Fine, but you owe me.” He starts pounding on the door louder this time and calling her name, so I quickly say, “Let me take you to dinner.”

“If it’s not a date, then fine.” She yanks the door open and gives me a hard shove so I stumble inside. “Please be quiet and don’t come out until we’re gone, okay?”

Faith doesn’t give me an opportunity to agree before she slams the door in my face. I hear her take a deep breath, followed by the sounds of her flats scraping on the carpet, before the sound of the lock turning reaches my ears.

“What do you want?” she asks, irritation evident in her tone.

“Why didn’t you open the door?” he ponders as he steps into the room.

She huffs. “I was taking a shit.” I have to cover my mouth with my hand to stop my surprised laugh. “What do you want, Adam?”

Adam, got it.

“I want to finish this last interview so I can get the hell out of here,” he snaps, and I have to fight every instinct ingrained within me to not burst out of here and make him aware of the proper way to talk to a woman. “I don’t want to be surrounded by these idiots any longer than I have to.”

He did not just ? —

“It’d do you well to remember that any one of these ‘idiots’ could kick your ass into the dirt if they ever hear you call them that.” I swear I can hear the smile in her voice when she says, “And I’d be more than happy to let them.”

“They wouldn’t dare lay a hand on me,” he spits, clearly agitated.

Oh, but we would. I would, at least.

“Sure you really want to test that theory?” After a few seconds of silence, I hear the sound of her feet moving on the carpet again. “Let’s go finish that interview so I don’t have to see your face again until I decide to come back into the office.”

“You used to like my face,” he retorts, his voice drifting away as he heads toward the door.

“Heavy on the used to,” she mumbles. A moment later, I hear the door close.

Slipping out of the bathroom, I take a few steps into the room.

Heavy on the used to, she said. Did they used to be a thing?

Does this happen to be one of the assholes who cheated on her?

Her disdain toward him and the way they interact would make it seem so, but I don’t want to jump to conclusions.

Because if he is…

My phone ringing in my back pocket stops the train of thought from continuing through my head. Pulling it out, I see Stevie’s name and photo on my screen—her drinking beer out of her boot—and don’t hesitate as I answer.

“What do you want this time?”

“Wow,” she responds, a light chuckle escaping her. “Hello to you, too, big brother. You’re awful cheery today.”

I roll my eyes as I pull out a chair and sit down. “You only seem to call when you want something. Rather than listening to you try and butter me up, figured I’d just cut straight to the chase and save both of our times.”

“You’re no fun,” she grumbles. “I got the schedule for my season, and the first event is in April, around the time you’ll be in Billings. I wanted to see if you’d potentially come home a few days before your rides to be there for opening day.”

“Of course,” I tell her instantly. “Just send me your schedule and I’ll rent a car and drive down.” My eyes drift over to the door, hearing the faint voice of the announcer, when a thought occurs to me. “Actually, you can do something for me, too.”

I can practically hear the grin in her voice when she says, “I can’t wait to hear this.”

“I need you to put your investigator skills to use.”