The Bull Rider. Helen DePrima
“I guess my battery’s running low.”
A lot of unmarried riders partied after the event, blowing off adrenaline with booze and the ever-willing girls who swarmed around the cowboys. He didn’t care much for drinking—the loss of control scared him—and he’d never again settle for sweaty sheets and girls whose names and faces ran together in a blur. Usually he walked for a couple hours to step down from the high of riding; tonight talking with Jo about home had drained away the tension. Too bad Traci had never been interested in hearing about the ranch.
Jo smiled. “Sounds like a cue to call it a night. What’s the schedule tomorrow?”
“The event starts at one,” he said. “I’ll be downstairs for breakfast around nine if you’d like to join me.”
“Why don’t you stop by my room first? I can help with the concealer again.” She stood just as the door opened.
Luke stopped short. “Hey, I can come back later...”
“Jo’s just leaving,” Tom said. “I’ve been boring her with Cameron family history.”
“Far from it,” she said. “I could listen all night.”
“And he could yammer on about the family legends till you want to stuff a sock in his mouth,” Luke said. “Best take it in installments.”
“Thanks for listening,” Tom said, although she’d probably considered it just part of her work.
“Anytime,” she said with a smile, gathering her purse and the day sheet from the evening’s competition. “I’d love to hear more about your family and the ranch.”
For a moment, he pictured her at Cameron’s Pride and then banished the image. He was a job to Jo Dace, nothing more—they’d have no problem as long as he kept that in mind.
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