Page 23 of Lost Trust

I glance at him. “Done with what?”

He gives me a flat look. “People. I about reached my limit last night.”

“Poor baby.”

“Fuck you.”

I grin.

He’s been the center of attention since he walked out of Dickies Arena, and I’ll admit, watching my perpetually grumpy brother get mobbed by half the rodeo world without losing his shit has been entertaining as hell.

Unfortunately for him, our family missed out on the first round of celebrating, so they’re here to make damn sure he gets a second helping.

We climb out of the truck, and Mom comes flying down the porch steps.

“Boys!”

She makes a beeline for Ax, but halfway across the yard, her eyes land on my arm. Her entire expression changes, and so does her trajectory.

“Oh, honey,” she gasps, abandoning Ax without a second thought as she heads straight for me.

I sigh.

Fuck. Here we go.

“I’m fine, Mom.”

“What happened?”

“Nothing.”

“Nothing?” Her eyes narrow as she reaches for my good arm and starts inspecting me like she can diagnose me by touch. “Why are you wearing a sling if nothing happened?”

“I tweaked my shoulder again. It wasn’t a big deal, but traveling with Ax’s girlfriend is like traveling with a mini mom.”

She doesn’t laugh.

“Jovie was just being overly cautious,” I assure her.

She commences fussing over me anyway. Our protests have never carried much weight with our mother.

Meanwhile, Dad has made it to Axle.

Boone Trust is grinning like a damn fool.

That’s Dad—the quintessential rodeo dad. Proud, loud, and keeping track of every buckle, every bruise, every score, and every damn standing. Always has been. He had us in boots and tossed us on anything with four legs and a bad attitude the second we were old enough to stay upright. If it bucked, he figured we ought to learn how to ride it.

He claps Axle on the back. “Hell of a ride, son,” Dad says, his voice thick with emotion. “Hell of a season.”

“Thanks, Dad.”

“And beating Bryce?” Dad’s grin stretches even wider. “That was the best part.”

Charli, standing behind him, laughs. “He took it easy on him.”

Axle groans. “Oh, fuck off, Charli.”

She beams at him, clearly enjoying herself.