Total pages in book: 123
Estimated words: 117506 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 588(@200wpm)___ 470(@250wpm)___ 392(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 117506 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 588(@200wpm)___ 470(@250wpm)___ 392(@300wpm)
My blood was pumping as I took off the helmet, and Ty handed me my Stetson cowboy hat.
“He was fun. He’s going to be a damn good bull if he jumps like that every time. Surprised the shit out of me.”
Ty smiled. “Sweet Thing is his daddy.”
I rolled my eyes. “Well, no wonder. That bull is a beast. I’ve never been able to cover that damn bull.”
“Not many can. Almost makes me want to climb onto one,” Brock said as he walked up next to me.
“You could always come out of retirement, give me a run for my money,” I said with a wink.
Brock shook his head and laughed. “I said almost. I enjoy not having anything broken or sprained on my body.”
“Like I said…you’ve turned into a pussy.”
“What are y’all doing?”
We all turned to see Timberlynn heading our way on one of the horses she’d been training.
“Look at that. It’s like he’s been under saddle for a while now, not just a week,” Tanner said as he climbed over the arena fence and walked up to his wife.
I smiled when Timberlynn leaned down, and they exchanged a kiss.
“They’re cute together,” I said without thinking.
“Um, who’s the pussy now?” Ty said as he pushed me slightly and started to walk out of the small arena he used for training the bulls.
Brock chuckled next to me. “You still steadfast on staying single?”
An image of Merit popped into my head, and I quickly pushed it away. “There’s no reason for me not to. At least for the time being. I’m sure one day I’ll settle down.”
Brock prompted, “Merit, maybe?”
I let out a mock laugh. “Merit?”
“Dirk, I see the way you look at her. I also know something happened between you both a couple weeks back. You’re back to acting exactly like you did after that first night you slept with her in high school.”
I rubbed the back of my neck. “I don’t want to talk about Merit, Brock.”
He frowned. “Aww, shit, you slept with her? Dude, she’d been drinking that night.”
I glared at Brock and took a few steps closer to him. I could feel the anger bubbling up inside of me. “Don’t you dare assume anything, Brock. Just. Don’t.”
He nodded and looked over at Tanner and Timberlynn, then focused back on me. “For what it’s worth—and you can simply ignore what I’m about to say—I’ve always seen it. The way the two of you looked at each other. You might have thought you’d given your heart to Kaci, and hell, you did for a while. But I think Merit Eden has always been the one you’ve been afraid to give your heart to, because she’s the one who truly has the power to bring you to your damn knees. You told me once to listen to my heart. Maybe it’s time you practiced what you preach, Dirk.”
I stood there and watched him walk away. Turning, I walked out of the arena and to my truck. It was time for me to get the hell out of Hamilton and away from Merit.
A month passed, and the heat of mid-July felt good. Especially since I’d been feeling like a damn zombie the last few weeks. I was itching to climb up onto another bull and had thrown myself into the smaller rodeos, even though I’d told my folks I would be home and not traveling much until the Unleash the Beast tour started back up.
My father had made it known to me the other day how disappointed he was that I wasn’t staying true to my word and spending more time with them. It had nearly broke me in two. But I needed to get the hell out of Hamilton and away from all thoughts of Merit. She was consuming my thoughts when I was back home. It was bad enough she had full control over my damn dreams. And that I didn’t even have the desire to sleep with anyone else since the night we’d shared. My dick was getting raw from me jacking off to visions of Merit riding me in the truck. The way she came undone when I talked dirty to her. The way she—
Fuck. Stop thinking about her!
Doug Manning, another bull rider, walked up next to me and sighed. “I love riding in Cheyenne.”
I nodded. This weekend we were in Cheyenne, Wyoming. Tulsa was the next stop on the tour, but not until the first week of August. My body was tired, and I knew I needed a break. My father had been asking me to come back and work on his latest project in the garage, and I felt guilty for running. It seemed running was the only thing I was good at, second to bull riding.
“You hitting Big Sky?”
“I don’t know. I may ride and then head on home for a few weeks before Tulsa.”