Page 38 of Stay Wild Darlin’

As I was climbing out after another rough dismount, a white Jeep Wrangler pulled into the driveway, tires crunching over gravel as it came to a slow stop beside the barn.

I froze.

Beau looked over, gave a low whistle, and muttered, “Well, shit.”

Her brown hair was piled in the messiest bun, strands falling out in different directions. The tiniest black biker shorts hugged her hips like a second skin, and her hoodie was cropped above her belly button. Oversized sunglasses covered half her face, but I’d recognize that walk anywhere.

“Over here,” Beau shouted, lifting a hand as she looked around.

Poppy turned toward his voice and waved, just a small flick of her fingers, before walking our way.

She stopped in front of the fence, eyes scanning the pens, the chute, the dust on my jeans, the rope burns on my gloves.

“Wow,” she said. “This is . . . a whole thing.”

Beau chuckled behind me, but I didn’t look at him. My eyes stayed on her.

Yeah. This was definitely a thing. And she had no idea what kind.

She looked at me and slid her sunglasses down the bridge of her nose, enough for her amber eyes to catch the sun and hit me square in the chest. “You look . . . messy.”

I blinked. Couldn’t talk. Couldn’t breathe.

Okay. So we were ignoring what happened yesterday.

Got it. Perfect.

Say something cocky. I could do cocky.

“Yeah,” I said, wiping sweat from my forehead with the back of my glove. “I was going for ‘rugged bull rider’ but landed here.” I gestured to myself.

She laughed, settling her glasses back on her face, and shook her head. “Where’s my favorite girl?”

Beau walked over to the fence line, wiping his hands on his jeans. “Fable? She’s back at the house, still passed out, probably.”

Both of us turned to look at him, then back at each other, chuckling.

“I was talking about Cora,” Poppy said.

“She’s up at the house with Maribel.” I tilted my chin in that direction.

Poppy’s brows furrowed. “I could’ve gotten up with her—sorry, I . . .”

“No. Maribel offered. Said she had it covered.”

Poppy nodded but chewed her lip like she wasn’t sure if she should press it or let it go.

“I’ll go relieve her.” Poppy turned toward the house.

“Wait,” Beau called, resting a boot on the bottom rail. “You wanna watch hotshot here take another go on the bull?”

She paused and turned back with a grin. “A chance to see the second-ranked bull rider in the world? How could I say no?”

If it wasn’t already pushing ninety degrees and I wasn’t sweating, the blush crawling up my neck would’ve been way too obvious.

“Stop it,” I barked, trying to brush her off as I shuffled toward the chute.

She giggled, clearly enjoying herself.