Page 3 of Hung Up (Shadow Ridge #1)

“Thank you for that,” she says as I pull out of the spot and begin the drive to the arena.

“No need,” I tell her as I change the radio station. “But, if you don’t mind me asking, why do you put up with that?”

“He’s my uncle.” Kate sighs loudly as she readjusts in her seat, kicking her heels off to tuck one leg underneath herself. Well, okay then. “I’m technically interning at his firm, so what he says goes until I graduate.”

My eyebrows lift. “How old are you?”

“Don’t you know you’re never supposed to ask a woman her age?”

“I only know that asking them their weight is a big no-no.”

Kate laughs, and the sound makes a smile tug at my lips. “That is also true. I’m twenty-three. Changed my major at the end of my sophomore year, so I’m a little behind.”

“You definitely seem older than that.” She whips her head in my direction, a crease forming between her brows as I stumble from embarrassment. “I don’t mean like, in a bad way. No, I just meant that you seem?—”

“It’s okay,” she interrupts, humor evident in her tone as my shoulders relax slightly. “I know what you mean.”

I turn and give her a shy, apologetic grin, and we drive the rest of the way to the arena in silence, only the songs on the radio filling the truck.

Ten minutes later, we’re pulling up to the security booth to enter the arena’s underground parking and loading area.

Taking one of the last available parking spots, Kate and I walk side by side up the ramp to the door that reads ‘Player Entrance’ to enter the arena.

The second we round the first corner, I can hear the sound of laughter and loud conversation, easily picking out Kai’s voice among the others. As we approach, I sling an arm around Kate’s shoulders.

“We ready to ride, boys?” I say in greeting, smiling as all eyes turn to me.

“Fuck yeah, I know I am,” Kai responds, his excitement palpable. He’s one of the youngest bull riders in the Pbr this year and is already second in the standings. “Who’s your friend?”

“This is Kate.” I glance down at her and gesture to the boys in order. “Kate, these are some of the other riders: Kai, Wyatt, Bryce, Lee, and Stetson. Kate is Henry’s niece. She’s interning at the firm.”

Bryce chuckles. “And how is that going for ya, Kate?”

“Let’s just say if I could get away with putting something in his bourbon, I’d consider it.”

All the boys bark out laughs and I bite back a smile; that’s something I’ve contemplated myself.

Once their laughter dies down, Wyatt turns to Kate.

“Why don’t you head into the media room and get comfortable?

We still have about an hour. Maxine, the photographer, will make you feel right at home.

She’s giving a bull-riding crash course to the new reporter. ”

“Perfect,” Kate says as she steps out from under my arm and adjusts her bag. “I could benefit from one myself. Thanks.”

“New reporter?” I ask once she’s disappeared into the designated media room. “What happened to Rachel?”

“Her boss found out she was sleeping with one of the riders,” Wyatt informs me as he turns and narrows his eyes on Kai.

He throws his hands up. “How was I supposed to know she wasn’t allowed to? She never said anything.”

“Common sense?” Bryce responds with a raised brow.

“Common sense,” Kai mocks. Bryce twists and goes to swing at Kai’s shoulder, but he quickly steps out of the way, his laughter echoing loudly in the hallway.

I turn my attention back to Wyatt. “Who’s this new reporter? Anyone we know?”

“Personally? No.” It’s Stetson who answers. “But you can tell she’s just another city girl trying to prove something to her boss. She screams ‘stuck up’, that one.”

“Definitely seems like the bossy type,” Kai volunteers. “Not that I’d mind her bossing me around.”

“With that voice?” Lee follows up, holding a hand over his heart. “She’d get me to do anything she wanted.”

“Does that include no longer talking about me behind my back?”

We all turn toward the voice sheepish and wide-eyed, just a bunch of dumbass bull riders caught like deer in headlights.

But as her blueish-green eyes meet mine, I swear my heart fucking skips a beat like some love-struck Romeo.

Her dark blonde curly hair stands out against her light caramel-colored skin.

Freckles dance along her nose and cover her cheeks, bringing my attention to her full, irresistible lips.

But what really grabs my attention is her all-white jumpsuit, which already has light dust marks coating the ankles.

Instead of saying something like, “Damn, you’re gorgeous,” or, you know, something less invasive like, “Hello, what’s your name?” What comes out is, “What are you wearing?”

Her eyes narrow into slits as her gaze slowly pans over to me, and I swear my heart falls into my ass. She peruses her gaze up and down the length of me, almost like she’s trying to see into the depths of my soul, and I can’t stop as I glance down at myself.

I’m wearing my normal dark blue jeans, black boots, and plain black riding shirt with five sponsor patches.

Her gaze hesitates for a moment on my face before skimming down my neck, and it’s only then I notice she’s looking at my shoulder-length hair.

You know how I can tell? The brief look of dislike that flashes in her eyes.

“I get it now,” she says, a sly smile tugging at the corners of her mouth. “You haven’t been around a woman who dresses to impress before, have you?”

“No, I have,” I respond as I take a small step closer to her, her smile faltering. “Just not one as gorgeous as you.”

She scoffs, shaking her head. “Oh, I see. You’re one of them.”

“One of who?” She spins on her heel and begins to head back toward the media room, and against my better judgment, I jog to catch up to her. “Seriously, one of who?”

“One of those guys who flirts with anything that breathes and thinks they’re entitled to a woman’s attention.” She stops and whips back around to face me, making me stumble back a step in surprise. “News flash: you’re not.”

Who pissed in her Cheerios this morning?

“You may be right about the first part,” I start to say, growing slightly defensive.

“But I’ve never once thought I was entitled to a woman’s attention.

Now, how about we start over?” She crosses her arms over her chest, but I see her shoulders relax slightly as she gives the barest of nods.

“I’m Jesse. Jesse Hayes. And who might you be, Sweetheart? ”

Her body goes rigid as her jaw clenches. “Don’t call me that. My name is Faith.”

“Okay, Faith. Has Maxine been giving you the rundown, or do you need a little extra assistance?”

Okay, that definitely didn’t come out sounding the way I intended.

Based on the look on her face, she agrees.

She shakes her head and reaches for the handle, but I rest my arm against the doorframe beside her head to get her attention.

She hesitates before slowly looking over at me; her heels make us the same height.

“I’m excited to watch you ride tonight,” Faith tells me, and I blink slowly as I try to digest what she said, her body language and words giving me whiplash.

“Are you, now?” I can’t stop the grin from growing on my face. Maybe befriending her will be easier than she was letting on.

“Mhm,” she replies, a smile threatening to appear on her plump, glossy lips. “Maxine told me you claim you can last for the full eight seconds, but rumor has it, you only tend to last for three.” She winks.

She fucking winks.

What the hell is happening? What is going on in my stomach right now?

I roll my shoulder back, trying to shake off the surprise as I plaster on my cockiest of smirks. “You can find out for yourself just how untrue that rumor is, Sweetheart.”

“No thanks, Pretty Boy.” She finally turns the handle, opening the door to the media room, where I see Maxine curled up on the couch with papers in her lap. “Go find some other poor woman to disappoint.”

“Wait.” I kick my foot into the doorframe, peeking my head in after her. “You think I’m pretty?”

She turns to face me and closes the gap between us, resting her hand on the door. “Stay on for the full eight and ask me again.”

Before I can muster up a retort, she closes the door right in my face.

I stand there for another moment before I take a few steps backward and turn around, only to see my friends standing behind me with various looks of humor in their expressions.

Rolling my eyes as they start to laugh, I approach the group, and Bryce slaps me on the shoulder.

“Looks like you have your work cut out for you,” he tells me as he shakes me lightly. “I wish you the best of luck in cracking that one.”

Luck? I don’t need luck. Just patience and a hell of a lot of… Okay luck. But if bull-riding has taught me anything, it’s that I never back down from a challenge—and Faith might have just become my biggest and best challenge yet.