Page 39 of Stay Wild Darlin’

“You sure Maribel’s got Cora?” she asked after a beat. “Wait—who is Maribel?”

Beau hopped down from the steel gate beside me and took over before I could answer. “Kline owns the ranch. Big stock contractor. Since I retired, I’ve been working for him. Maribel’s his wife. They’re family to us.”

“Got it,” she said with a small nod.

“She’s fine with her,” I added, zipping up my vest and double-checking my rope. “She was hesitant at first, but she was distracted by the dogs inside the house, so she’s fine.”

Poppy smiled at that, arms crossed as she leaned against the fence. “Alright. Let’s see what you got.”

Suddenly, eight seconds felt like a hell of a long time.

I walked across the small arena, up to where the chutes were. Once I’d swung one leg over the fence and dropped into the chute, the bull beneath me was already twitching. The space was tight, metal pressing in on either side, the scent of resin, dirt, and leather heavy in the air.

I moved on instinct, boots bracing against the bull’s shoulders, thighs locking in. My hands found the bull rope, and my fingers traced over it. There was something about the weight of it in my palm, the tension, the way it resisted and yielded when I pulled it tight.

It was always the rope that did it for me.

The ritual of it. The way it dug into my glove, biting back as I worked the wrap, snugging it down across my knuckles, around my wrist. Tighter. Always tighter. Like I needed to feel it dig into me. Mark me.

It fought against the slack, stretched taut over the bull’s hide, and I could feel the hum of power between us—me and the animal, me and the rope, me and the edge of control I always flirted with but never let slip.

The knot held. My grip held.

This wasn’t a ride anymore.

It was a release.

Beau secured the flank strap and checked my rope. “Try not to fall off like a dumbass this time,” he muttered with a grin.

“Appreciate the support,” I grunted.

“Anytime, sweetheart.”

The bull shifted under me, anxious to go, already tensing like he knew the game was about to start. Beau jumped down to the arena so he could pull the doors open.

I gave him a sharp nod, and the chute door slammed open.

The bull exploded, twisting outside of my hand hard, then launching right. I stayed low, free arm high, and legs locked. It wasn’t clean, but it was solid.

Seconds ticked like thunder in my ears.

Five. Six. Seven⁠—

Eight.

I let go clean, launched off the side, rolled hard, dirt flying as I came to a stop outside the fence line. Beau distracted the bull enough to run into the pen.

My chest heaved, heart racing, and adrenaline buzzed like fire through my veins.

“Now that was more like it.”

I stood, brushing the dirt off my jeans, and turned to see Poppy.

She clapped slowly. “Alright, number two. I see you.”

I swallowed and attempted to chuckle, but nothing came out. She jumped off the fence and gave me a wave before heading toward the house.

“I’ll get Cora while you finish up.”