Page 4 of Hung Up (Shadow Ridge #1)

SACRAMENTO

your reputation precedes you

I’m scrolling through some articles Maxine emailed me and taking notes on my laptop when I hear the door open.

I don’t bother turning around, assuming it’s Maxine, but a masculine voice clearing their throat makes my hands pause on my keyboard.

Glancing out of the corner of my eye, I spot that all too familiar black cowboy hat.

“What do you want?” I ask, turning my attention back to my computer to continue typing.

“I just wanted to apologize for earlier,” Jesse states as he closes the door behind him. “I didn’t mean to be rude, so I’m sorry if I was. It’s been a while since anyone new has joined the tour.”

I stop my work again at that and turn to fully look him in those infuriatingly beautiful eyes. “You have met new people before though, right?”

“You just caught me off guard, I’m sorry.” He bites the corner of his lip to stop a smile from growing as I fidget with my hands in my lap.

“Well, thank you for the apology.”

I take the opportunity to really take him in now that I’m not blinded by anger.

His black cowboy hat lays atop a mess of medium-length wavy brown hair.

He has pale green eyes that starkly contrast with his tanned skin, a few stray freckles dancing across his cheeks, which are covered in a short yet somewhat scraggly beard.

He now has a black vest over his black long-sleeved shirt, and he has on a pair of red and black leather chaps— thank you, Max, for the vocabulary lesson— with white fringe down the side.

Objectively? He’s gorgeous. There’s no denying that fact.

But realistically? You don’t have looks like that and don’t know how hot you are.

If there’s one thing I’ve learned from my research, it’s that Jesse Hayes is known as the playboy on the circuit.

The fact that I had to dig to find articles that didn’t pertain to his sexual escapades speaks volumes.

“Where’d Max run off to?” he asks, leaning against the table next to my chair, and I have to stop myself from inhaling sharply to get another whiff of his cologne—lavender and sage.

“Her boss called her.” I make a show of glancing at his outfit. “Don’t you have somewhere you need to be?”

“Nah, I don’t ride for another half hour,” he informs me as he crosses his ankles together. “Figured I’d pop in here and see if you needed help.”

Oh, ‘cause I’m so helpless? “Help with what?”

“Learning all about us, of course,” he replies like it’s the most obvious answer in the world. “Who better to give you the rundown on the riders than a rider himself?”

“Okay, Pretty Boy,” I start, spinning in my chair and crossing my arms as I look up at him. “Let’s say I needed your help learning all about the other riders. What would you tell me?”

He stands up, a look of excitement in his eyes, before he pulls out the chair next to mine and takes a seat.

“Well, I’d tell you Kai is young and definitely one to look out for.

He broke through onto the scene two years ago and has been dominating ever since.

Bit of a wild child, though. Bryce is very down to earth and hates any distractions an hour before he’s supposed to ride.

Claims it helps him ride better. You know, there might actually be some truth there because he always places in the top three. ”

Wind him up and watch him go, I guess.

“Then there’s Wyatt, my mentor and fellow bull rider. He’s been speaking about retirement, claims being thirty has hit him harder than he thought it would, but I just think he’s ready to start a family. Not many bull riders around here have children. Too dangerous and all that.”

“That’s the first thing all day that makes any sense,” I mumble to myself, but his light laughter lets me know I wasn’t as quiet as I had anticipated. “What about Lee and Stetson?”

His eyebrows rise. “Were you introduced?”

“I do my research.”

“Fair enough.” He leans back in his chair, interlocking his ankles together.

“They’re both good, but they haven’t been to the finals in a few years.

Those boys keep us on our toes and keep us competing, but they start to lose their wind as the season goes on.

” His eyes widen as he looks at me. “Please don’t tell them I said that. ”

I bite the corner of my lip before responding, “Did I not warn you that you were on the record?”

“Well, that’ll come back and bite me in the ass.”

Laughter slips out of me before I can stop it, and my cheeks heat under Jesse’s sudden gaze. I force my face into neutrality as I sit up straighter, resting my elbows on the table. “Okay, so you’ve told me about the others. What about you? What’s Jesse Hayes the bull rider like?”

“I was wondering when you were going to ask.” He rests his elbows near mine, his head dipping closer.

“I would tell you that he’s amazing on the bull and rarely ever misses that eight-second buzzer.

I’d tell you that he’s been in the top three for years and that he’s kind of a big deal around here.

He’s what all the other riders strive to be. Oh, and he also?—”

“Are you always like this?” I ask, interrupting him before he can continue to showboat.

“Like what?” He gives me a cocky smile. “Charming? Charismatic? Handsome?”

“Annoying and self-absorbed.”

Jesse’s eyebrows furrow despite the sly smile pulling on his stupidly tempting lips.

Of course the cockiest guy here has a reason to be.

He rests his chin in his hand and studies me, and I find myself shifting and averting my gaze.

I pick up my pen and draw a random doodle on my paper before he breaks the silence.

“I do have to get going. Have a ride and all that.” He pushes away from the table and slides out of his chair, but I refuse to look up. “Thank you for humoring me. I know that you already knew all there was to know about me.”

That causes my brows to lift as I tilt my head up to look at him. “I’d say your reputation precedes you, but I’m a terrible liar. Best of luck on your ride tonight, Pretty Boy. Tell Kai I’ll be waiting for him when he’s done.”

“Saving the best for last?” He pulls the door open but keeps his eyes on me.

“Something like that.”

Jesse beams and tips his hat at me before slipping out of the room.

The tension I didn’t know I was carrying leaves my shoulders the second I hear the door latch behind him.

Slumping back in my chair, I run my hand down my face for a brief moment before glancing down at my blank notepad.

Clearly, jotting down notes so I wasn’t going into this interview blind and stupid wasn’t going to happen.

That damn cowboy.

Realistically, I know I have no one to blame but myself for being so easily distracted.

I let his smooth-talking suaveness awaken the confrontational, can’t-let-anyone-else-get-in-the-last-word part of me.

Is it a defense mechanism? That’s what my therapist says, anyway.

But is it really? I don’t know. Jury is still out.

What I do know is that I need to lock it down.

I cannot let everything that led up to this point get in the way of me doing my job.

Not my lack of knowledge, not my inability to listen fully, not the sign on my forehead that reads ‘I don’t belong here’, and certainly not these damn bull riders.

Do I have something to prove? Not necessarily.

If I do, it’s to myself that I can still step out of my comfort zone and complete any project or assignment that’s handed to me.

And maybe to Alicia, too. And my team. And my father.

Well fuck me. Maybe I do have something to prove.

A sudden knock on the door causes me to jump, glancing over my shoulder.

My brows furrow as I slide out of my chair and make my way over, wondering if the door is locked and Maxine can’t get back in.

But when I pull the door open, relief flows through me in waves as I see that familiar, shiny, dark brown hair.

“Couldn’t let you go through this alone, could I?” Rylie throws her arms around me before I can stop her. “And what are you wearing? You know where you are, right?”

“I do now,” I grumble, peeling myself away from her embrace. “I didn’t need saving, you know.”

Rylie shrugs as she leans against the doorframe, crossing her arms in front of herself. “I’m not here to save you. I’m here strictly in a friend capacity. And to give you this.”

She extends a folded piece of paper I didn’t realize she had been carrying.

I flip it open and glance over the contents.

It’s a schedule with the times and locations of all the rides, along with names of contacts for media, should I need assistance, and my flight and hotel bookings for each stop along the way.

Folding it back up, I turn and toss it on top of my notebook before noticing that Rylie is still leaning in the doorway.

“Do you need an invitation?”

“I thought we could go watch. You’ll learn a lot more out there than you will in here.”

Tipping my head back, I glance up at the ceiling for a moment to prepare myself.

Even though I’ve been doing this for years, despite the fact that I have been on the field for something as big as the Super Bowl and on the bench for a Stanley Cup final game, loud crowds can sometimes get the better of me.

Not in the ‘I’m about to have a panic attack’ type of way, more the ‘can I just get one moment of quiet to think, please’ kind of way.

However, Rylie doesn’t give me more than a few seconds to prepare as she grabs my hand and drags me out of the media room.