Page 113 of Tame Our Wild

Colson’s eyes dart between mine, his raspy tone laced with nerves. “Okay.”

I smile. For the first time today, I don’t feel anxious about what comes next. “I’d rather risk one ride than lose whatever one we’ve been on. I want you. Actually, if I’m being more accurate, I’m so wildly and madly in love with you.”

Colson’s tongue wets his mouth. “You’ve always been a fucking thorn in my side, Harlow Hartt.” My stomach viciously swoops as he removes his hat, swiping a thumb over his bottom lip. “But I’ve grown to like it—and I’d rather live life with you pressed against me than endure the pain of not having you at all. I love the way you pester me and push me to my limits, because we both know that’s a line we’ll always play with. But more importantly, I love the way you’ve helped me look forward to a life I never thought I’d allow myself.” Colson’s hand slides around my rib cage to the small of my back, pulling my body against his. I may have my protective vest on, but the heat from his hand sears my flesh just the same. “I’m done riding, for good.”

Tears burn behind my eyes. “Are you sure? I want you to go after whatever you want, and I’ll be by your side while you do it.”

“Oh, dust bunny, you will.” He nods, his finger pressing below my jaw to angle my head upward. “Goals change, and I’ve known for a while that my new dream is helping the girl I love chase hers.”

Just like that, whatever space that was left between us is swallowed up as Colson’s mouth descends onto mine, neither of us caring who’s around us. He lowers to grip my ass with his fingers, lifting me into his muscular arms as my legs lock around his abdomen. Our mouths move eagerly as our tongues collide, my head swimming with a high I never want to come down from.

Somewhere between our heated competitions, long coaching sessions, conversations, stolen glances at events, and late nights tangled together, I fell in love with Colson Payne. And for the first time, I’m perfectly content knowing this is one fall I’ll never recover from.

EPILOGUE | COLSON

2 YEARS LATER

“This is such bullshit!”

I should hold back my amusement, but I chuckle. Cursing coming out of someone so small and young shouldn’t be so cute, but here I am, watching as the sixteen-year-old girl dusts off her chaps and huffs out a breath of frustration.

Matt and Harlow wrangle the bull together—him on foot, and Harlow on her horse, Alaska—to get him out of the practice pen and back to the few guys I have hired. I used to bring in a temporary team when I was gone all the time competing in the PBR or in the summer months, but now I have an all-year-round crew to help me keep up with all the shit I have going on.

It’s good shit, but I could never do this all by myself when I want to give it my all.

Never did I think full-time coaching would turn into a business of raising bucking-bull stock on the ranch, but here I am, loving every minute of it. Not only does it make it easier having my own bulls when my clients come to practice on the ranch, but I’m damn good at knowing what both the rider and bull need to push them to their fullest potential in this sport. Now, I am a contractor supplying bulls to the local rodeos around Chattanooga and other parts of Tennessee, and it feels so fucking good to know that I’m waking up every day eager to soak in every moment of this life.

Don’t get me wrong, starting was hard, but with Harlow by my side, Matt and my parents’ support, and the connections I’ve made from my long years as a professional bull rider, I knew every bump and setback would be worth it.

Like now, when I have a young girl glaring daggers at me. A bright, talented young rider who’s doubting her abilities. But I don’t.

At first, I had self-doubt that I would be a good coach, but Harlow was always there, looking up at me with those big blue eyes that obliterate any trace of doubt, because she sees all of me. And she always tells me that she was my first, and to look at how well she’s done.

That’s all it takes.

One look and praise from my stunning wife, and I’m reminded that anything is possible, because despite all the odds stacked against us, we made it.

After a visit to the Big River Rodeo for a second consecutive year, we saw Calli and her mother again, and I instantly knew I was ready. I approached them, Calli going all gooey-eyed for my wife again, like she did the year before when they first met. I don’t blame her; I look at Harlow the same way. But then I offered to coach Calli, and the squeals and excitement that burst out of her earned me a spot on her list of favorite people.

I wear that title with pride now.

“Calli, you’ve only been at this for six months. Give yourself a break. Even the best riders had to work, train, and push themselves to get where they are. We have grit in our core and dust in our veins. That’s what sets us apart.”

From under the shadow of her helmet, I see her blow out a breath. She crosses her arms over her chest. “Not me.”

Harlow and Matt are near the chute, chatting away as I have this moment with one of my athletes. I have ten more riders in the area I work with throughout the week. Aside from them, I still have a long list of queries in my inbox.

My brows furrow. “Why do you say that?”

She takes off her helmet, her hands gliding down her dark-brown signature braids. Her head tips toward the ground. “Because all the boys in my high school league tell me so. They say I started too late, and I’ll never catch up.”

I crouch before Calli so I can peer up at her. “Do you believe them?”

She kicks at the dirt with the toe of her cowgirl boot. “I don’t know.”

“Calli.” Her brown eyes meet mine, and I see the truth lingering there. “Do you believe them?” I ask her again.

“No. I know I can do it.”