Page 47 of Unyielding (Poplar Springs #3)

The thing was, he knew exactly what it meant.

For as long as Axel could remember, he'd had a quick temper, and he had always struggled to keep it in check.

He'd gotten in more fights than he could remember before he even hit his teens, and by the time he left Pride River, he'd left quite the reputation behind.

In ten years of working the rodeo circuit, he'd mellowed a bit.

He'd had to keep an even keel around the rodeo animals, no matter how the humans set him off.

In high school, Belle had looked after him, helped him keep himself in check, but out on the road, he hadn't found anyone with the same magical effect.

He'd had to learn to tamp down that temper.

Only one person could still set him off—Ford.

He made a point of learning every single one of Axel's buttons and pushing them repeatedly.

This season had been particularly bad as their competition had heated up.

They were ranked one and two among the bronc riders, and whichever of them scored higher here in Pride River would be the season champion.

The prize money would be life changing. And as the season went on, Ford had targeted Axel more and more often, picking fights and pushing buttons, resulting in four censures for Axel from the Rodeo Association for unsportsmanlike conduct.

One more, and he'd be disqualified from the Pride River rodeo.

Somehow, Ford always managed to sidestep the actual tussles, pushing Axel's temper right to the edge, so that whoever threw the next barb would receive Axel's fist. In the week or so leading up to the rodeo, Axel knew Ford would be pushing harder than ever.

"Come on, sugar, don't get your panties in a bunch," Ford said now, heckling Axel as he stepped closer, invading Axel's personal space. His skin crawled at the other man's proximity. "I'm only messing with you. Besides, it's not me that needs to worry about you being here, is it?"

"Come on, Ford," Jared said disgustedly, although he didn't get so much as a glance from Ford for his troubles.

"It's all the pretty ladies that need to do the worrying, right? Them and their daddies," Ford said in a sing-song voice that set Axel's teeth on edge. "That is if there's any of 'em that you haven't already run through, which seems like a big 'if' to me."

This was enough to get the drunks at the bar beside them muttering and laughing, which only pissed Axel off more.

Ford was using his other reputation—as a player—against him too, and although it was easy enough to do, especially in Axel's hometown, it was also a cheap shot.

The man was clearly enjoying himself. He was enjoying the way he was making Axel's blood boil, and he was far from finished doing it.

He stepped even closer, standing so near to Axel now that no culture on earth would have deemed the proximity socially acceptable.

Before Axel could point that fact out, one of Ford's hands darted out low, so that nobody would be able to see it.

He jabbed Axel hard, right in the side where his latest injury had been.

Axel gave a grunt of pain mingled with surprise, and then he saw red.

"Ah," Ford said quietly, all the feigned cheerfulness absent now. "I knew you weren't as strong as you used to be. Looks like you're about used up, from where I'm standing. I'll leave you alone to think about how it'll feel when I pull the season championship right out from under you."

Axel wasn't going to be able to stop himself from throwing a punch.

He knew that he needed to, knew that he had to keep himself in check if he wanted to compete at least one more time.

But understanding what you needed to do and being able to see it through were very different animals, and Axel's deep breaths and counting down from ten and all the other techniques he'd developed over the years weren't helping.

He was going to throw a punch, and that was all it would take.

His ship would be sunk, and there would be no going back.

He felt a hand on his shoulder, pressing down in a way that was somehow both gentle and firm.

It wasn't Jared. He was as sure of that as he was of his own name.

Even after ten years, he recognized the whiff of perfume that wafted over him, like as he recognized the light pressure the fingertips on his shoulder made.

He knew exactly who it was stepping in to save the day.

This is real, Belle Manning told herself, fighting the urge to pinch herself, just to make sure. Axel King is back in Pride River, after all these years, and he's still looking for a fight.

She had come to the Pride to blow off steam with some friends who were back in town for the Christmas holiday and the rodeo festivities.

It was a welcome distraction and sorely needed; she had been spending a lot of time with her mom lately because of the holidays, and as much as she loved her, the woman was driving her insane.

Ever since Belle's father died of a heart attack a few years back, her mom had been overly invested in Belle's love life.

It felt like she piled on the pressure a little more with each passing day, finding truly ludicrous and bizarre ways to bring up men she considered suitable.

It didn't matter how many times Belle told her she wasn't looking to be in a relationship, let alone a serious one.

Her mother was on a mission, and God help the person who stood in her way.

Belle most definitely had not been expecting to see Axel standing at the bar.

It was her turn to buy a round, and she had been on her way over from their table when she swore she heard his voice.

She shook her head, reminding herself that Axel hadn't come home in almost ten years, and there was no way he would turn up now.

It was the time of year that made her think of him, that was all.

The last time she had seen him was on Christmas Eve, a magical, snowy night when he had kissed her on the porch and brushed snowflakes off her lashes, telling her he would see her in the morning.

The next day, Christmas Day, he was gone.

He hadn't called, and he hadn't returned to Pride River.

After all this time, there was no reason to believe he would be back now.