Her Cowboy Lawman. Pamela Britton
tried not to groan. And stare. And gawk.
Damn that George.
He’d been doing just fine at ignoring how gorgeous Lauren was right up until George made a fuss about her looks. Now he couldn’t get her looks off his mind, either. He even had to blink a few times to get her out of his head. What was he saying...?
“The only thing I’d like to see you change is maybe how tight you wrap the rope around your hand.” He glanced up and against his better judgment stared in her direction again. She was, indeed, headed this way.
Focus.
The bull rope—a prickly hemp tool that served as a bull rider’s lifeline—came back into focus. “YouTube can’t teach you the feel for how much pressure to use when you pull tight. It’s like this. Here.” Two of the boys stepped back as he went to work. “Do this.”
He pulled, getting the thing tight around Kyle’s hand. The boy’s eager eyes watched his every move and for a moment he forgot about the kid’s mother and how sexy she looked in her tight jeans and pigtails. Pigtails! They made her seem about twenty years younger than him—and served as a reminder of the age gap between them.
“I get it,” Kyle said. “Not so tight that my hand tingles.”
“Exactly.”
He caught a whiff of her, and she smelled as good as fresh waffles on a Sunday morning. Sweet and with just a hint of vanilla.
“So if you’re ready, I’m going to have the boys here start pulling on the ropes real good. It’s going to get kind of hard to stay on, but that’s okay, right, boys?”
The kids nodded, their faces eager, too. There was nothing they liked better than trying to knock each other off the barrel. He just hoped Lauren didn’t freak out. Once glance at her face told him all he needed to know about how much she liked the idea of her son riding that barrel.
She should find her son another hobby, he thought. That would make both their lives easier.
“Ready?”
Hazel eyes looked up at him with complete determination. The kid had more freckles than a spotted trout, but the resolve in his gaze made him seem older. For the first time Bren wondered if Kyle was the real deal, something he’d only ever seen rarely, a kid who really wanted it. He didn’t do it for the bulls or the glory but because he was drawn to it.
Like he himself had been once upon a time.
“Go!” he told his students.
One tugged down, another sideways, and one pulled a rope toward him. Poor Kyle didn’t know what hit him. One moment he sat in the middle of the barrel; the next he was flat on the safety mat.
“Kyle!” Lauren called.
“I’m fine, Mom.” Kyle sat up so quick Bren could tell he did so for his mother’s sake. It was his grin that told him that he wasn’t hurt. Not in the least. His eyes had lit up like an ocean sunrise. “Can I do it again?”
Bren pulled his gaze away from Lauren. At least she’d stopped short of bending down by her son’s side. She must have spotted the brief warning in Kyle’s eyes, the one that had clearly said, Don’t humiliate me, Mom.
“I’m not sure that’s a good idea.” Lauren glanced at Bren as if seeking his help to convince her son, but he shook his head.
“He needs to do it again. Had this been a real steer, he would have hurt himself coming off like that, especially since he’d be landing on hard ground.” He glanced down at Kyle, who already stood up. “You can’t put your arms out like that. Don’t try and land on your feet. Don’t stick a limb out in front of you. And most importantly, never land on your head.” He nodded toward the barrel. “Do it again.”
Lauren didn’t exactly gulp, but she did something close. Worried eyes caught his own and even though he told himself to keep things cool between them, he smiled. He just wanted to reassure her. To let her know nothing would happen, not on his watch, but seeing the way she relaxed, watching her take a deep breath and then ever so slightly smile back... It was his turn to gulp.
“Don’t forget to wrap it tighter.”
Kyle nodded absently as he climbed back on board.
“Look where you want to fall,” one of the other kids told him. Michael was his name. Good kid without a lick of talent, but he sure tried hard, and Bren appreciated the way he wanted to help.
“Curl into a ball if you come off headfirst,” said another one. Perry, his neighbor’s kid, who rode steers more because of the girls it attracted than any real love of the sport.
“But don’t stop trying,” Rhett advised.
It filled him with pride. This was why he did what he did. He might not ride bulls anymore. He might be all washed up. But he still knew things that he could pass on to kids who wanted to learn.
“Ready?” he asked Kyle when he was all settled. The boy nodded again, throwing his hand up in the air this time as if he rode a real bull, and Bren tried not to smile. He glanced at Rhett and nodded, and the chaos began all over again. Kyle tipped left, but darned if he didn’t correct himself this time. Same thing happened the other way, but he hung on, for a little while at least, because one of the kids jerked the rope so hard it looked like Kyle rode a trampoline. He heard Lauren gasp as her son flew right, hand hanging up on the rope for a moment, arms flailing as he landed on the right side of the mat with a whoosh. He’d listened, too, because he’d curled his arms up tight. Bren smiled because a lot of kids couldn’t think that fast. The adrenaline, the fear, it all got to them. Clearly Kyle could slow down his mind. He could think. And he loved it, because he smiled the whole time.
Lauren, not so much.
She sat there staring at her son, leaning forward, perched on the tips of her toes, as if she were about to launch herself at him.
“You need to work on your balance more.”
“Ride horses,” Rhett said, helping Kyle up. “If you have any.”
Kyle turned toward his mom. “My uncle Jax has a ton of horses.”
“I bet your uncle would have some great horses for you to ride,” Bren said.
“Riding will help a lot,” said another of his students.
“He doesn’t know how to ride,” said Lauren, and he could tell she didn’t like the idea of Kyle riding a horse any more than she liked the thought of him on a steer.
“Bren can teach him,” said Rhett. “Bren used to ride broncs and bulls.”
“He’s been to the NFR,” Perry added.
“A long time ago,” Bren told her. “Right after I got out of the army.”
“I know,” Kyle said, hopping off the mat and standing next to his mother. “My uncle said you got some kind of special accommodation in the army. Is that true?”
“A Distinguished Service Cross,” he admitted.
“That’s cool,” Kyle said.
Something in Lauren’s eyes flickered, and it wasn’t approval. It was more like...disappointment, and that was so completely opposite to the usual reaction that the realization kind of threw him to the point he found himself saying, “I’d be happy to teach Kyle to ride,” before he could think better of it.
“That’s okay.” She shook her head, pigtails waving behind her. “My brother has a qualified instructor coming to teach at his ranch.”
“Mom, that’s not for weeks. Uncle Jax told you that just yesterday.”
“Then you’ll have to wait.”
Kyle caught his eyes. “I can teach myself, can’t I?”
“No, you can’t,” his mom