Real Sexy (Real Dirty Duet #2)(40)

"Still, I think he needs some time to sort his shit out."

I don't know what possesses me to add my two cents to a conversation that clearly doesn't need my input, but I do anyway. "Boone seems to know his own mind."

Grant's skeptical gaze skewers me. "If he does, then you certainly won the jackpot in the lottery of life. He better get a damn prenup."

Even though I should expect it, the venom in his words catches me off guard. "Are you serious? You think I'm trying to hook up with him for his money?" I try to keep my voice down, but the accusation makes my tone grow shrill.

"You had a job when you hooked up with him, and now you don't. I feel like that's no accident," Grant says.

Boone's brother is kind of a dick.

"Because he decided to have an impromptu show in my bar, it got shut down by the fire marshal for overcapacity, and then I got my ass reamed and ended up losing the job I've had since before I was old enough to legally work. My entire future was tied up with the Fishbowl, and after your brother's help one night, I ended up homeless and unemployed."

Grant's brows dive into deep slashes. "What the hell are you talking about?"

"You want more? I took a job working for a friend who let me sleep on her futon. I was back at work behind another bar as fast as I could get there so I could earn some money, because I sank my entire savings into keeping my family business afloat. So don't tell me I'm looking to Boone for a handout. I was pissed that he arranged for me to get this weekend off because the tips are better on Friday and Saturday, and I'm missing out on a chance to hopefully save up for a deposit on my own place."

Mrs. Thrasher tilts her head and shakes a finger at her son. "Grant, what have I told you a million times? You know better than to judge."

He crosses his arms. "Let's just say after that last one left him hanging when he was gonna propose, I'm a little protective of my brother." 

"Good. That's great. But I'm not a damn thing like her. I've worked my ass off, and even though I don't have jack crap to show for it right now, I will someday." I infuse all my determination in my words.

"I like her," Boone's dad says before he takes a swig of beer. "She's feisty. She'll keep Boone on his toes and stop him from getting too impressed with himself."

Mrs. Thrasher opens her mouth to say something else, but the announcer's deep voice booms through the speakers.

"You all ready for a rodeo tonight?"

The crowd cheers in response.

"Then let's get this show started! We've got a special guest here to kick us off with the national anthem. Please stand, remove your hats, and face the flag at the north end of the arena. Here's Nashville recording artist and hometown hero, Boone Thrasher, to sing it for y'all."

Boone walks into the arena from the direction of the chutes, microphone in hand, and that deep gravelly voice silences the crowd.

With my hand over my heart, I face the flag, but my eyes are glued to Boone. The national anthem isn't exactly the easiest song to sing, but he kills it. Shivers run down my spine as he belts it out. The entire crowd cheers as he reaches the end, and then start chanting his name. "Boone! Boone! Boone!"

Boone turns and waves to the crowd as the rodeo clowns come running out, ready to entertain the masses.

Then all hell breaks loose.





27





Boone





I hear it before I see it. The clang of metal against metal as they load a bull into the chute, and the slamming of a solid ton of weight against the gate.

I whip around to see the gate fly off as the hinges fail. Then my eyes zero in on the pissed-off bull's horns and the snot dripping from its nose as its hooves thunder toward me.

Lou is closer to the bull, his back to it as he faces me. I don't know if he's been momentarily struck deaf, but he doesn't turn around.

"Lou!" When I yell his name, he looks at me instead of the bull.

Fuck. It's gonna run him right over.

Hesitation could mean his skull being crushed in the dirt, so I don't think. I bolt toward him, throwing myself at him like I used to in football practice. I swear I see the whites of the bull's eyes before my body connects with Lou's, shoving him out of the way.

The animal turns and bucks, spinning toward us.

Something hard cracks against my head before everything goes black.





28





Ripley





It's like one of those Caught on Video shows where you know something horrible is going to happen. You don't want to watch, but you can't take your eyes off the screen.

A bull charges from the chute as the rodeo clowns come out, and people start screaming. The guy in his hot-pink suspenders from earlier doesn't turn. Doesn't look. Doesn't see the massive beast charging at him.