Page 38 of A Montana Rodeo Star

They set to work adding the ingredients and once the dough got too thick for the beaters, she had Brent use a wooden spoon. He flinched as he worked in the chocolate chips, and she placed a hand on his forearm. “Are you hurt?” The alarm in her voice couldn’t be helped. He hadn’t been complaining of being in pain and here she was, asking him to work his muscles before they’d been treated.

He shook his head. “Just a little sore. It’s nothing.”

She frowned at him. “It’s not nothing. If you strained anything and you don’t ice it correctly, it can get worse. With the number of competitions you plan on working, you have to stay in top shape.”

Brent’s eyes drifted to where her hand rested on his bare forearm. He stared at their connection long enough that she attempted to pull away. Before she could, he placed a hand over the top of hers. She sucked in a surprised breath and slid her gaze to his but found him still staring at where they remained connected.

Her throat went dry. These were the moments that fueled the tension mounting between them—when she couldn’t decipher Brent’s intentions. It was utterly maddening. The silence was deafening, and she couldn’t take it. Her skin practically crawled, making her need to do something to break the weight she could feel closing in around her. She’d made up her mind, for heaven’s sake. She wasn’t going to take action when it came to the feelings she had for Brent.

Faith tugged her hand free in the brief moment of clarity she’d managed to find. Then stepped toward the freezer. “I’ll get you some ice. We have a rice bag we can heat up too. Cold and heat will do a lot of good.”

She could feel his eyes following her as she went through the motions. When she finally allowed herself to look at him, she wasn’t surprised to find him still watching her. She gave him a nervous smile and reminded herself of one solitary truth.

Friends.

They were friends and nothing more.

Faith handed him the ice pack she’d retrieved. “Press it to the sore muscles until the timer goes off. I’ll start scooping up the dough and by the time you’re done, we should have a batch fresh out of the oven.”

His hand shot out and his long fingers wrapped around her wrist. She frowned at the contact and he immediately released her. “Thank you, Faith,” he whispered.

She didn’t look at him then, she simply nodded and returned to the cookie tray and the dough. After a couple minutes, she asked, “Did you place?”

He grunted as he shifted in his seat. “No. But like you said, I did better than last time. Jason’s right. I need to watch the videos and pinpoint where I need to improve. I think I’m starting off in the right place. My feet are above the shoulders and I’m staying in the saddle for the full eight seconds. My spurring technique definitely needs work. I keep getting out of my head and the motions aren’t consistent. And my position in the saddle is hit or miss.”

“I thought your positioning today was great,” she murmured allowing herself to peek at him.

Beneath his stare, she stilled. He was studying her. Or maybe he was trying to figure her out. Well, there was nothing to figure out. He was the confusing one. She was just about to point that out and probably embarrass herself when he nodded curtly. “I appreciate that. You have a good eye.”

She gave him a small smile and nodded back. Their conversation drifted to safer subjects. Not the rodeo. Definitely not Jacob Hines. She asked about the preparations for Tripp’s upcoming wedding, but Brent didn’t seem to be in the know. He might have been the best man, but it appeared Tripp hadn’t assigned him anything. For a moment Faith thought she saw a flicker of something dark when she’d brought up the wedding. She’d thought Brent was happy for his brother. There was no reason for him to be upset about the upcoming nuptials.

But when she looked closer, she didn’t see anything amiss.

Brent asked her more about the program she was thinking of enrolling in. Timing, cost and other details. He seemed happier to talk about her than himself, which was fine. Talking about what she loved helped to keep her own mind clear.

By the end of the night, he was more relaxed and his shoulder wasn’t bothering him as much. She sent him off with a plate of cookies and made him promise to share with his family.

Somehow, she doubted he’d follow through with her request so she made a mental note to herself to stop by with another plate tomorrow.

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

The lines were becoming blurred.

Brent could feel it in every fiber of his being. The more time he spent with Faith the harder it was becoming to remind himself of the promises he’d made.

Promises to Faith.

Promises to her brothers.

Promises to himself.

He could toss aside that last one and throw caution to the wind. Then at least he wouldn’t be letting his parents down.

But he’d be letting himself down.

Brent scrubbed a hand down his face then through his hair before he put his Stetson back on his head. He was supposed to be at the Dennison property today but after he’d nearly crossed said blurred lines the night after his competition, he’d needed a reprieve. A reset.

Unfortunately, the distance wasn’t helping. All he could think about was Faith.