Page 72 of Stay Wild Darlin’

The bull rider.

My heart thundered in my chest, echoing the pounding of hooves waiting behind that gate.

He looked good, and I couldn’t wait to watch him fly.

The gate clanged shut behind him, and a hush fell over the arena for a breath.

Dalton sat on top of the bull like he was carved from stone, legs tight, back straight, hand gripping the rope with white-knuckled tension. The bull was thick-shouldered and restless, already twitching beneath him, muscles coiled and ready to explode.

Cora leaned forward in my arms, mesmerized. I pressed a kiss to the top of her head and didn’t dare blink.

The chute flew open.

The bull launched into the ring with a fury I felt in my teeth. Dirt kicked up in every direction, the creature twisting and bucking with violent force, back legs high in the air, head snapping.

Dalton moved with the beast, hips loose, shoulders rolled back, body flexed and shifting like he belonged up there.

Every bounce shook the air. Every twist looked like the one that would send him flying.

I couldn’t breathe. The crowd around us blurred, their cheers blending into one long, endless roar.

Dalton’s free hand whipped through the air as the seconds ticked by on the overhead timer.

Six.

Seven.

Eight.

The buzzer rang out, and the arena erupted.

The bull bucked once more, and Dalton flew off by tucking and rolling. The bullfighters rushed in to distract the bull, pulling its attention away as Dalton scrambled to his feet, one hand in the air to signal he was okay.

Cora squealed in my arms, and I realized I was yelling too. I’d never seen him so alive.

He looked up at the stands, squinting as he searched, and I knew he was looking for us.

He hopped onto the bottom rail of the gate, tore off his helmet, and tossed it behind him. Sweat slicked his hair to his forehead, his chest heaving beneath the vest.

Then he leaned over the barrier, eyes locked on Cora.

“There’s my girl,” he murmured, and gave her the sweetest kiss on the cheek.

His gaze was heavy, burning, soaked in adrenaline and heat as he stared at me.

“Congrats, number two.”

He didn’t break eye contact. “Number one now.” He smirked, and before I could react, he pressed a kiss to my cheek.

He dropped back down and took off across the ring, his laughter trailing behind him.

Fable made a sound. Harleigh was laughing.

“Don’t even,” I muttered, trying to cover my cheeks with Cora’s tiny body.

“He’s got it bad, girl,” Harleigh said, shaking her head with a knowing grin.

“Like, real bad,” Fable added, her eyes wide.