The Bull Rider's Plan

And why was her stomach free-falling at the feel of rough stubble beneath her hand?

This was embarrassing.

She forced a smile and casually dropped her hand before reaching for her coffee cup. It was halfway to her lips before she realized that it was empty.

Did she fake a drink or get a grip?

She chose to get a grip and set down the cup. She’d touched Jess’s face. Big deal. He’d been like a brother to her for years.

And that was probably why he was scowling at her so deeply right now.

“Sorry,” she said. “I do that to my brothers.”

“No worries,” he said gruffly, but she’d felt him go still beneath her touch, knew that it had startled him as much as it had startled her. “I need to turn in early tonight.”

“Yeah. I know.” She slid out from the bench. “I want to catch a shower anyway over at the public facilities.” It’d been a while since she’d traveled the circuit, and she’d never traveled it as intensely as Jess planned to travel this one, but she knew the drill. On the nights you weren’t celebrating or driving, you got to bed early. A worn-out body wasn’t capable of peak performance, and with the schedule Jess had ahead of him, he needed to get all the rest he could while he could.

“What time will it be safe?” He frowned at her instead of asking her what she meant. “At what time can I enter the camper and find you decent?”

“Seven?”

“Seven is good. And if you can have the coffee on, that will be even better.”

* * *

PLAY FOR MONEY. Right. If he and Emma played for money, she’d have to buy the gas instead of him. She was a good player, but she also had the most ridiculous luck. Nobody pulled the fourth jack on the turn up. But Emma did. Len had been good, but Emma was a natural with numbers. She’d gone to college with the hope of becoming an engineer, but had quit after the funeral, settling at home and choosing to work a variety of part-time jobs.

Jess hadn’t really kept up with her, but he’d seen her around town, working in various capacities. Funny how Selma was nuts about her getting married, but hadn’t hounded her about finishing her education. Maybe because she knew, as Jess did, that Emma would finish it when she was ready.

He rolled over in the bunk. Maybe Selma had wanted Emma to get married because it would help ground her while she mourned. It was a dumb idea, but Selma was also mourning, and people didn’t always think straight during rough times.

A good example was him agreeing to let Emma travel with him.

For a while anyway. He didn’t see her lasting for all four weeks of his tour, but if it helped her to get away for a while, then he was game.

The next morning he was up early—well before seven—so when Emma knocked, he’d already showered and the coffee was on. He never ate breakfast on the days that he rode, and he rarely ate lunch, unlike his brother, who was counting protein calories and doing yoga. He settled into his head and waited for his ride, going over it, anticipating every move the animal could make, so that his reaction would be automatic. So far it had worked. He had a decent record, but if there was one certainty in bull riding, it was that there was no certainty.

The same rule kind of applied to Emma.

“You have coffee, right?” She was on the pot in a heartbeat, making Jess glad that he’d left her a cup instead of waiting until she got there to make more. He might have to buy a bigger percolator.

She brought the cup to her lips, her eyes closing as she first inhaled and then drank. “Sweet manna of life.”

“I didn’t know you were a coffee freak.”

She slid into her spot behind the table, resting her elbows on the surface and cupping the mug with both hands. “There’s a lot you don’t know about me.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah,” she said, her full lips tilting up on one side. She really did have an amazing mouth. “Telling me to scram didn’t make you privy to my many secrets.”

He thought about it and had to agree. He didn’t know that much about her. Not the things that she held close anyway.

“What do I need to know?”

Her lips started to twitch in a way he didn’t like, as if she’d just heard a great joke but didn’t want to let him in on the punch line. “What?”

“That jerk Benny Two Feathers just asked me all snide-like if we were shacking up and I told him we were on our honeymoon. That shut him up.”

“Good one, Em.” He let out a breath. It didn’t matter. It really didn’t. And knowing Benny, he fully understood why she’d done that. The guy was a jerk.

He just hoped word didn’t get back to Selma. The last thing he needed was for her to set her sights on him as Emma’s future husband.

Chapter Four

“You married Emma Sullivan?”

Jess stopped stretching and turned toward Benny Two Feathers, who was smirking at him, as if being married to Em was a bad thing. “We’re not married.”

“Maybe you should tell Emma that.”

“She was yanking your chain,” Jess said tightly, settling his hands at the belt of his fringed chaps. “Possibly because you were out of line.”

“Hey. I was just curious.”

“Yeah. Well, to satisfy your curiosity, Emma is traveling with me to help with the driving.” Benny’s smirk became more pronounced and Jess had to work to keep his fingers from tightening on his belt. It didn’t matter what Benny thought, even if he did have the biggest mouth around. “Em’s brother died not all that long ago and she just called off her wedding. She wanted some time away to get her head together. I offered to let her ride along.” Kind of. “She doesn’t need you spreading rumors about us on top of everything else.”

“I, uh—”

“She’s my dead best friend’s little sister.” Jess took a step closer to Benny. “And you’d better leave her alone.”

Benny put his chest up, but he didn’t have a lot of fight in his eyes as he said, “I meant no harm.”

“Doesn’t matter what you meant.”

Benny gave a curt nod and took a step back. “I’ll, uh, tell her I’m sorry next time I see her.”

“She’d probably appreciate that.”

Jess went back to his stretching, ignoring Benny as he drifted away. One rumor squelched. And since Benny was a talker, everyone would soon know that Em had called off her wedding and that they weren’t married. The latter was the more important of the two.

“You’re married?”

Jess looked up to see Lara Wynam standing a few yards behind him, her big sorrel barrel horse standing at her shoulder. “I’m not married.”

She shot a frowning look toward the field where the competitors parked, then back at him. “That guy.”

“Benny?”

“Yes. He told me you and Emma were on your honeymoon.”

“He was messing with you.”

She drew in a breath. “I have to admit to being surprised to hear you were married. I’ve never seen you out with Emma.”

“She just called off her real wedding. She’s traveling with me to get away for a while.” Jess wondered how many times he was going to have to retell the story. “The canceled wedding, Len’s death...get the picture?”

“Oh. Poor kid.”

“Yeah. She’s pretty broken up. I needed a driver and this worked out for both of us.”

Lara’s smile brightened and she pushed her shiny dark hair over her shoulder. “Sorry to have jumped you like that. I was...surprised. And I guess it makes sense, since she’s Len’s little sister.”

He and Lara had dated for a while, and he could see where it would be surprising to hear that he was suddenly married. “If you hear anyone asking about my marriage, would you mind setting them straight?”

“I’d be happy to.” She smiled again, the dimple that had once so fascinated him showing beneath the corner of her mouth. “Good luck today.”

“You, too, WW.”

She cocked an eyebrow at the use of her nickname, then turned and led her horse toward the practice arena. Jess watched the sway of fringe across the back of her shirt as she left. Good-looking woman. Center of her own world. They’d parted friends—or as close to being friends as Lara was capable of.

Enough distraction.

He was stretched out; his rope was prepped. The last section of barrel racers was about to begin and after that the bulls would be loaded.

He paced around the perimeter of the chutes, nodding at his competition, but not talking. He’d never been a talker before a ride. Tyler would launch into a long story, excuse himself for his ride, then come back and finish the tale if the guy was still around to listen. Jess had always been the quiet twin.

The cautious twin.

Until he was in the chute, on board the animal. Then he was all about winning.

The last barrel racer did her thing. The time was announced and then the equipment team drove into the arena to remove the barrels before the tractor gave the ground one last go-over. The chutes banged and clanged as the crew loaded the bulls. He’d drawn Lil Bill, which could be good or bad, depending on how Bill felt that day. When Bill bucked, he was dynamite. When he didn’t, it stunk because he bucked just enough to keep the rider from getting a re-ride. Jess hoped Lil Bill wasn’t having one of his lazy days.

Jess headed to the chute once Bill was loaded, finagled the bull rope into position. Bill stood quietly, which made Jess wonder what kind of ride he was going to have. Bill remained quiet as the bull two chutes down exploded out of the pen when the gate opened, giving Tim LeClair one heck of a ride.

“Watch and learn,” Jess muttered to the black-and-white bull when the whistle blew. He eased on top of his mount and double-checked his grip after Chase Wells, a fellow bull rider, pulled his rope tight for him. If this first ride didn’t put him in the money, there were other rodeos...but he had every intention of getting to the finals, so he needed this one to be decent. To set the stage, give him momentum.

The gate swung open. Bill set his butt against the back of the chute and refused to move. The gate closed again.

Jess adjusted himself, waited for the gate to open again. When it did, Bill humped up, hesitated, then suddenly reared, blasting out of the chute, exactly as he was supposed to have done the first time.

Despite all signs to the contrary, Bill was in a bucking mood.

When the whistle blew, Jess was close to the fence, where Bill seemed intent on wiping him off now that his job was over. He leaped off the bull, hit the ground, then felt hooves come down on either side of him. He ducked, then as soon as the thundering stopped, dashed for the fence.

Bill made a hook at one of the bullfighters, shook his head at the guy, then with a snort and a flick of his tail, allowed the safety man to guide him to the exit gate.

Jess popped the chin strap of his helmet and headed back across the arena, barely hearing the applause. It’d been a good ride. He didn’t know if it would score better than LeClair’s, but, in his mind, it should. Lil Bill had gone beyond the call of duty.

* * *

EMMA PUSHED OFF from the fence near the chutes where she’d squeezed between two guys to watch Jess’s ride. It was impossible to watch a bull ride without feeling a degree of concern, and her heart had been hammering. But now Jess was back on the ground, in one piece, and she could focus on the here and now.

They had a ten-hour drive to the next rodeo tomorrow evening in Brisby, Montana. Emma had no idea if Jess wanted to travel halfway tonight or whether he wanted to leave early the next morning. She’d meant to get a clear answer on that before the ride, but Jess had disappeared before she could ask. Just in case, she’d packed her gear and had it ready to go. It’d be easy to roll her sleeping bag back out on the back seat if he wanted to take off in the morning.

Before she started back to the truck, Jess came out from behind the chutes and stopped to talk to another bull rider, whom she didn’t know. It’d been a while since she’d been on the circuit and there were a lot of new faces along with the familiar ones. One face stood out, though, in addition to Benny Two Feathers... Lara Wynam, whose trailer was parked a few spaces away from Jess’s truck.

Winning Wynam.

Emma gave a small snort as she headed back to the truck. Or Whining Wynam. If Lara didn’t win, then Lara had an excuse. The arena wasn’t properly raked, the gate man sucked, she had her suspicions about the electric timer, yada, yada. Emma didn’t bide excuses. There’d been none in her house while she was growing up, and she wasn’t putting up with bogus defenses from other people. Guess what, Lara? Sometimes you don’t win. Every now and again, someone might be better.

Her mouth tightened as she passed the woman’s trailer and recalled the fact that Lara always donated heavily to junior rodeo. Okay, she wasn’t all bad. Just...privileged. And she complained a lot.

Maybe it was growing up the way Em had, in a blended family with a stern, not necessarily fair, but always controlling, matriarch at the helm that gave her little patience for people who assumed that life was supposed to go their way. That wasn’t how it worked. She was living proof.

She’d barely reached the truck when Jess showed up, his chaps slung over his shoulder, his bull rope in one hand.

“Didn’t win?” The winners were being announced as they spoke.

“Second.”

Emma pushed back her hair, holding it against the wind. “LeClair?”

“Yeah.” He seemed good with the decision. Emma was not.

“That’s bogus. I saw both rides.”

Jess’s mouth twitched. “The judges saw it differently. By a point.”

“At least you’re in the money.”

“That I am. Ready to leave?”

“I am if you are.”

“I thought I’d clean up, if you don’t mind grabbing us some burgers for the road.”

“Sure.”

“And Em?” She shot him a look over her shoulder. “Try to do it without telling anyone we’re married, okay?”

She waved her hand at him. “No promises.”

The corner of his mouth twitched again and then he started back toward the camper. Emma skirted a few trailers and then had the good fortune to see Benny Two Feathers talking to another rider next to his trailer.

He gave her a look as she went by and half a step later she stopped and reversed course. “Jess and I aren’t married.”

“I know.”

“And we’re not shacked up either.”

He frowned down at her. “You could have just told me that.”

“And you could have kept your creepy questions to yourself.”

The guy next to him turned a choked laugh into a cough. Benny gave him a quick narrow-eyed look and the guy simply put his hands up in mock surrender. Benny was a big guy and not that many people messed with him. Emma was one of the few who did.

“I’ve always treated you with respect, Benny. I expect the same right back.” She gave him a nod and continued toward the concession stand, which looked like it was about to close. Behind her she heard Benny mutter a colorful remark that wasn’t all that complimentary, but she understood his need to save face. She was good with that, as long as he stayed out of her business in the future.

And hey...she hadn’t thought about Selma or Darion in almost an hour.

* * *

WHEN JESS GOT back to the truck from the fairground shower facility, which was a whole lot roomier than the facility available in the camper, Emma had a bag of burgers, fries and two giant drinks waiting in the truck. The engine was running and she was behind the wheel. She tilted her aviator sunglasses down as he got into the passenger seat.

“Where are we stopping for the night?”

“Depends on how far you feel like driving.”

She gave him a considering look, then put the truck in gear without answering. The field was now close to empty, with only a handful of trucks and trailers remaining. When they reached Brisby the next day, they’d be parking close to a lot of the same people. That was the thing about rodeo—it was like a big traveling family. And like all families, there were members you could depend on and those you avoided.

“So far, so good, wouldn’t you say?” Em pulled onto the freeway and eased in behind a truck and Jess made a conscious effort to relax his tense muscles. He’d never ridden with Em before and had no idea whether she was a decent driver or not. As she’d said, so far, so good. She glanced over at him, waiting for a response to her chit-chatty question.

“Would have been better if I’d walked away with the big money, but all in all not bad.” He shifted the leg that Bill had squeezed against the chute. “I could have done without explaining that I wasn’t married.” Emma only shrugged, again without looking at him. “Spread any more rumors about us before we pulled out?” She gave him a curious sidelong glance and he explained, “Just trying to ascertain what I might be up against next stop.”

“No rumors. But I did tell Benny to back off.”

So had he. Between the two of them, the guy should have gotten the message.

“Maybe you shouldn’t mess with Benny.”

“Maybe he shouldn’t mess with me.”

Jess smiled in spite of himself, then worked his way into a more comfortable position, propping a knee against the dashboard and folding his arms over his middle before closing his eyes. If he could get an hour of sleep, he could take over the driving.

* * *

JESS FELL ASLEEP almost instantly, which was something considering the fact that he’d been practically white-knuckled when she’d pulled onto the freeway. To him, she was still Len’s little sister, competent enough to help them rope and brand calves, but not ready for prime time in other arenas of life. Fine. It was a role she was comfortable with, the bothersome little sister, and more than that, Jess was comfortable with it.

He was not comfortable with them being pretend-married.

She gave a small snort as she recalled Benny’s face when she’d first told him, then glanced over to see if she’d disturbed Jess. He was out, dark eyelashes fanned over the tanned skin above his cheekbones. Her heart bumped a little. He really was good-looking. Maybe it was because she hadn’t been around him in well over a year that he seemed different. Or maybe she was looking at him differently. Whatever. She could kind of see what her friends saw—now that he was asleep and not telling her what she couldn’t do.

The road straightened out in front of her and traffic was light, so she chanced another glance, curious about why he seemed different. Maybe it was the fact that he’d matured and the angles of his face had become more chiseled, the hollows under his cheekbones more pronounced.

She eased her way around the only car in front of them for miles and then glanced back at Jess. His mouth, which she had to admit was a very fine mouth, was slightly open—and, a split second later, so were his eyes.

Em gave a start as her gaze slammed into his electric one.

“The road.” The words were clipped. Not very friendly.

She jerked her attention to the pavement—where’d it’d been one short second before she’d given in to temptation and went for that third look.

“I was just checking on you,” she said in a huffy voice.

“To see if I was breathing?”

“To see why you looked different.”

He frowned at her. “Different how?”

She kept both hands on the wheel, squeezing it more tightly than she needed to. “I don’t know. That was why I was looking.”

He sat up straighter.

“You can sleep, you know. It wasn’t as if I was staring dreamily at you rather than minding the road. You just happened to catch me midglance.”

“Ah.”

“And they were fast glances.” She demonstrated, exaggerating the speed of her head turns. “Like that.”

“Stop.”

She smiled a little and relaxed now that they were safely back in their roles, although she couldn’t say why the word safe had popped into her brain. “I think it’s because you’ve lost weight.”

She sensed that he’d gone still and risked his wrath by glancing over at him yet again. He wore a perplexed expression. “I don’t recall ever being particularly heavy.”

“In your face. You’ve lost the baby fat.”

He muttered something that sounded like a plea to a higher power, then slumped back into his seat. “I don’t know if I can sleep if you’re looking at me.”

“I won’t look. Promise.”

He let out a breath. Em fought with herself, then glanced over. His eyes were still open.

“That was a trap,” she said as she focused on the road.

“That was a test.”

“I guess you’re going to have to get used to me staring at you when you sleep if you’re going to take advantage of having another driver along.”

He let out a long breath and closed his eyes once again—Em knew because she looked. “Just...keep it between the lines, okay?”

“I will,” she said in a resigned voice. “And maybe, for once, you can have some faith in me.”

Chapter Five

Have some faith in her.

When didn’t he have faith in her?

Like...never.

“Would music bother you?”

Jess kept his eyes closed and readjusted his arms over his chest as he said, “Not if it’s low.”

“Low it will be.”

A second later the last CD he’d been listening to came on and Em turned the volume down. He shifted in his seat yet again and did his best to lose himself in the music and not think about his driver. Impossible. Not when that floral fragrance filled the cab—and not in a bad way. Like Em, it was light and joyful. Em was usually happy—making the best of whatever situation she was in. Scrapping her way through life. True, she’d hit a couple of rough patches recently, but she soldiered on.

So why did she think that he didn’t have faith in her?

It wasn’t a lack of faith. That wasn’t why they, meaning he and Len, hadn’t let her pal along with them. It’d been sheer protectiveness.

That and the fact that she’d driven them crazy when she’d been younger, and the perception of the bothersome tagalong sister persisted.

Huh.

He fought the urge to open his eyes and study her, to see how she’d changed. Because she had. He’d noticed in the bar that she’d grown into her mouth and, what had once been almost comically oversize in her delicate face, was now perfect—nicely shaped, wide, but not too wide. Full. Kissable.

Kissable?

He shifted in his seat, hoped Em thought it was so that he could get more comfortable. Was kissable a word to use in regards to his best friend’s sister?

He cracked open an eyelid and thanked heaven that Em was concentrating on the road, as she was supposed to be. Her chin was slightly lifted, her eyes focused straight ahead, giving him an excellent view of her profile, lips and all. Even as he tried to tell himself that a mouth was a mouth and Em’s mouth was no more kissable than any other woman’s, his body stirred.

Oh, man.

This is Em. Len’s sister. Remember that.

So much for sleeping. Jess let out a breath and pushed up into a sitting position.

“Can’t sleep?” Em asked, not looking at him.

“Too much adrenaline.”

“Huh. I used to totally crash when I was done with a barrel run.”

And he usually crashed after a bull ride, if he didn’t have to drive several hundred miles to the next rodeo. Adrenaline had never been a problem before—and it wasn’t the problem now.

What business did he have thinking salacious thoughts about Em?

Get a grip. You didn’t go anywhere near salacious. You just finally noticed that she was a woman, not a kid.

And again he was lying to himself. He’d noticed a long time ago that she was a woman.

She was, however, off-limits. She’d always been off-limits and he’d never allowed himself to think of her in any other way. And now she had issues to deal with and the last thing she needed was the guy she trusted, the guy she was depending on to help her straighten out her life, throwing yet another monkey wrench into the mix.

Jess opened the burger bag. “You didn’t eat.”