...She tore her gaze away to study the rings on the small table, marks left by uncounted glasses over the years. All at once she tuned in to the conversation again, just in time to hear Wes reply to whatever Gid had said that she’d missed.

“Don’t worry, Gid. I’ll see Tab back to the camper. You stay and talk with Ruth as long as you want. I’m about ready to call it a night and I ’spect Little Bit is, too. She made a hard landing out there today.”

Tab wanted to protest, to object the night was young and she was barely getting started, but she knew it wouldn’t ring true. The aches had begun to set in. Underneath her skin-tight, trademark pink jeans and low-cut matching t-shirt she knew bruises were darkening where her body had impacted the ground. A couple of arthritis-strength painkillers and a soft bed sounded damn good.

No use fighting reality. She rose, bid a polite goodnight to Ruth and Gid, then followed Wes to the door. Outside, he waited for her to fall into step beside him. As they wove through the parking lot to the pickup and camper in the back row, he laid an arm across her shoulders.

It was a pretty late summer night. A quarter-moon shone down from just past the zenith, and a whisper of dust- and desert-scented breeze stirred the air. They strolled at a leisurely pace, Wes checking his long strides to fit her steps.

“What if there was another option, Tab, besides rodeoing for a living or going back home with your tail tucked? Would you still want to ride?”

She drew a slow breath and let it out even more slowly. “I don’t know. Guess it might depend on the option. I mean I don’t plan to ride for the next twenty years. I’ve had two good seasons, so I can’t regret a minute of it, but I know I’ve been lucky. No bad accidents so far, but the odds are bound to turn against me in time. But meanwhile, I’m havin’ me a blast, while kind of rubbing Pa’s nose in it. He has to know what me and Gid are doing. Bet he hates every minute of it.” Grinning at that thought, she shrugged. “I haven’t looked much past tomorrow, the next rodeo, the finals at the most. Not sure I want to.”

Wes stopped, halted her and turned her to face him. He had his hands on her shoulders now, a gentle grip, but one she could not seem to break away from. The heat from his hands sank into her body to settle somewhere low in her belly where a sudden urgent quiver began.

“I have a hunch Gid’s going to be making some changes pretty quick. I look to see him and Ned Cunningham going into a joint business as stock contractors. And I’ll bet Miz Ruthie will be part of his future, too. So where does that leave us, you and me?”

A small squeak of alarm escaped before she could control it. No, I’m not ready for a change. Why can’t things go on just like they are now for a little longer? “You think? I didn’t know it was that far along yet. I mean, so soon?”

“Haven’t you been paying attention, Little Bit? I’m thinking it wouldn’t be real comfortable to be the fifth wheel there, not for either of us, even if we kind of hooked up, too. Sure we could probably both find some new travel partners, but it wouldn’t be the same. And I don’t know if I can go on holding my breath every time you come out on a ride, ’specially a bull. But then I think what if I wasn’t there and someone else was more worried about his own ass than savin’ yours?”

The intensity in his soft words tore at her. He was opening doors she had been stubborn about keeping shut tight. Before she could pull herself together enough to reply, his mouth came down over hers in a hard, hot, urgent kiss. He cupped her butt with one big, long fingered hand and lifted her against the erection straining at his zipper. A gush of moisture flooded her panties as their bodies ground together. Somewhere in the back of her mind a small voice was saying, Whoa, hold it. This is Wes, for gosh sake. What the blazes are you doing?

His other hand found her breast through her t-shirt and rolled a nipple under the thin fabric. She whimpered, clutching at his shoulders, tangling her fingers into the thick rusty-blond hair at the back of his neck. As from a distance, she heard footsteps crunching past in the gravel and an amused voice said, “Get a room, cowboy.”