This Kiss (Made In Montana Book 12) by Debbi Rawlins Page A

this weekend. With his track record you’d think he’d be holed up somewhere with the door double-locked.”
    The bearded man spat into a cup. “That’s what I would do. He gets injured today, he won’t never forgive himself. Sure would be a shame if he missed the finals again.”
    “You get a chance to see him ride Bad Company at the season opener?” Lenny asked his friend. “Reminds me of this bull. Thrashing and lunging against the gate like that, he ain’t about to let Styles get comfortable. What was it that happened last year before the finals? Was it his elbow—”
    “Please stop saying those things.” Sophie turned to the two men. “Riders are superstitious enough. Ethan doesn’t need to be reminded of what’s happened in the past. So, please...”
    Lenny frowned at her. “It ain’t like we’re saying it so he can hear.”
    “But you’re still putting it out there in the universe.”
    The men glanced at each other and laughed. “Ma’am, you might wanna find another sport that’s easier on your blood pressure,” Lenny said.
    Sophie hadn’t been looking for a clear shot of Ethan. But that was what she got between a pair of Stetson-wearing cowboys sitting two rows in front of her. He was still tying his rope.
    “What’s he doing?” Lenny mumbled. “He can’t be using a suicide wrap.”
    “He’d be a dang fool, since he’s not looking to qualify.”
    “A what?” Sophie asked, but the men ignored her. A suicide wrap? Okay, maybe it was better she didn’t know.
    Gripping the edge of her seat, she leaned forward, her heart racing. “Damn you, Ethan,” she muttered under her breath, her attention glued to him. “Put on the goddamn helmet.”
    “You know Styles personally?” Lenny asked, frowning at her.
    “Yes,” she said, swallowing when she saw him give the nod. “I’m his girlfriend.”
    * * *
    A FTER WHAT FELT like an hour inside a blender, Ethan heard the buzzer. Another two seconds and he ripped free of the bull rope and jumped off Twister. He managed to land on his feet while a bullfighter lured the bull in the other direction. Pulling off his Stetson, Ethan waved it at the cheering crowd.
    Good for Gunderson. He had a winner with Twister. That son of a bitch could buck and change direction with the best of them. When he’d burst out of the chute and cut to the left, Ethan almost let go.
    Sophie wasn’t in her seat.
    What the hell?
    He’d known exactly where she was sitting. He’d spotted her after watching Kenny get an ass-whooping by one of Matt’s broncs.
    People were on their feet, still applauding, so Ethan waved again before he exited the arena. Once he made it to the reserved area behind the pens, he stopped to dust off his hat and the front of his shirt. Matt was waiting for him with a mile-wide grin.
    Ethan laughed. “You trying to kill me, Gunderson?”
    “What did I tell you?”
    “I didn’t think the bastard was gonna let me outta the chute.” Ethan wiped his face with the back of his sleeve. “You ride him yet?”
    “Nope.” Matt handed him a clean rag. “If Twister didn’t kill me, Rachel would.”
    “Smart woman.”
    Ethan recognized the irritated voice even before he turned around.
    Sophie had slipped behind the fence, ignoring the man who tried to stop her.
    “It’s okay,” Matt told the cowboy, and the man backed off.
    It didn’t appear Sophie was aware of anything going on around her. She was focused solely on Ethan, and she looked pissed.
    She stopped a foot away and glared up at him. “Styles, there is something very wrong with you.”
    “Okay.” He grinned and put on his hat. Her cheeks were pink, her dark eyes flashing. He couldn’t imagine what this was about, but he didn’t like that her lower lip had quivered. “Are you gonna tell me why?”
    “We’ll talk later,” Matt said, nodding at Sophie as he passed her.
    She gave him an apologetic smile. When she met Ethan’s eyes again, she didn’t look angry but afraid. “Why