The Bull Rider's Cowgirl

THE COWGIRL OF HIS DREAMS

Jen Taylor is this close to becoming a world-champion barrel racer. But when tragedy strikes bull rider Colt Mead, she puts her ambitions on hold…temporarily. The playboy of the circuit suddenly has a child depending on him. She can’t let her friend go it alone—no matter how much he hurt her…

Colt knew Jen deserved better than a rootless bull rider. But caring for his orphaned half sister makes him realize how much he wants to be part of a family. And that family won’t be complete without the woman he loves as much more than a friend. Will she give up her dream to be part of his?

“I’m sorry, Colt. So sorry.”

He didn’t make a sound but his body shook under Jen’s touch and he slid his face down to bury it against her belly. Her shirt grew damp under his cheek, her heart squeezing harder with every silent heave of his shoulders. She paused every few minutes to wipe away a tear of her own, swallowing the lump in her throat and holding back as many as she could.

His hold loosened and he raised his head. The weak expression crossing his striking features stabbed her chest. She leaned in and drifted soft kisses over his forehead, lean cheeks and bearded jaw. Hoping to lessen the heavy shadows hanging over him.

He looked at her then, his blue eyes welling, tears coating the thick lashes and clinging to the ends. She pressed gentle kisses there, too. The taste of salt touched her tongue as his eyelids fluttered shut.

His strong hand slid into her hair, palm cupping the back of her head and fingers kneading her nape. “Jen?”

The husky whisper had barely escaped when he touched his mouth to hers.

Dear Reader,

Like a lot of girls, I met the first man I’d ever love on the day I was born. My dad.

But I was lucky. Because there was a second man there that day, too. My brother.

Of course, he was a boy then and I’m sure my squalling face was the least welcome sight in his universe. Only, you’d never know it after looking at pictures of us as kids.

My mother was a photographer and took more photos of us than we could count. In some, he kissed my cheek. In others, he held my hand. But in all of them, he was right by my side. Just as he was the day we lost our mother.

I was sixteen and he was the first person to hold me that day. As much as he was hurting, he didn’t let go and say it’d be okay like others did. Because he knew what we’d lost…and how much I needed him.

That’s the kind of love a girl never forgets.

In The Bull Rider’s Cowgirl, Colt Mead is appointed guardian of his little sister, Meg. Being responsible for a child isn’t something he’s used to. He makes mistakes (as we all do) but he loves hard. And Meg is very lucky to have him.

Thank you for reading Colt’s story.

April

The Bull Rider’s Cowgirl

April Arrington

www.millsandboon.co.uk

APRIL ARRINGTON grew up in a small Southern town and developed a love for movies and books at an early age. Emotionally moving stories have always held a special place in her heart. During the day, she enjoys sharing classic literature and popular fiction with students. At night, she spends her time writing stories of her own. April enjoys collecting pottery and soaking up the Georgia sun on her front porch. You can follow her on Twitter, @april_arrington.

Dedicated to my big brother, Steve.

I love you to the moon and back. Always.

Contents

Cover

Back Cover Text

Introduction

Dear Reader

Title Page

About the Author

Dedication

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Extract

Copyright

Chapter One

15.32. Left, right, right. Go for great.

Only a fraction of a second separated a good barrel racer from a great one. The faster the run, the higher a name moved up the scoreboard. Tonight, Jen Taylor was determined her name would be at the top of the list.

“We can do this, Diamond.”

Jen nudged her quarter horse into a jog across the grassy warm-up area. His white mane rippled over the edge of the saddle and fluttered against the reins. The crowd, inside Kissimmee’s Silver Spurs Arena several feet away, burst into applause, signaling the end of another barrel racer’s run.

“Easy.” Jen dropped her weight in the saddle, took hold of the saddle horn and executed a sharp left turn.

She drew Diamond to a halt in front of the arena’s alley entrance, sucked in a lungful of warm Florida air and tried to still the frantic flutters in her stomach. One more run and she’d be up. The clear April evening was a perfect night for racing. If she could just get a handle on her nerves...

“That was Autumn Langley of Texas,” the announcer blared over the PA system.

Jen cringed, her face heating. Autumn Langley was one of the best in the arena. And a reminder of one of Jen’s biggest humiliations outside it.

She craned her neck, focused on the illuminated board and tried to make out Autumn’s score. The numbers and letters shifted. A few broke. Others floated. It was impossible to focus on them from this angle and her attention was too shot to concentrate.

Gut churning, she tore her eyes away. Diamond jerked his head and stomped his foot.

“It’s okay, boy,” she whispered, patting his neck.

Thankfully, the announcer spoke again. “Give it up. Autumn just cranked out a 17.12...”

Jen released a slow breath. The time to beat was still 15.32.

Ignoring the tremble in her hands, Jen raked her gaze over the cluster of cowboys leaning on the fence inside the arena and focused on their relaxed expressions. In less than an hour, several of them would be battling to hang on to the back of a massive, bucking bull. But not a hint of anxiety showed on their faces.

“It’s just another run,” she said softly, weaving her fingers through Diamond’s mane and drawing strength from the men’s carefree features. “We’re as strong on the dirt as any of those cowboys.”

The man closest to the alley gate glanced up. His tan Stetson cast a shadow over his chiseled features and blond, close-cut beard beneath the floodlights. He straightened, his blue eyes finding her, and issued a tight smile.

Jen’s belly warmed. Colt Mead’s sexy grin and muscled form had always had that effect on her. As well as other parts of her anatomy. It never mattered where she was or what she was doing. All it took was one crooked grin from Colt and her blood rushed. Her mind shot straight to imagining what it would be like to be kissed by him. To have his strong hands running over her bod—

Her mouth twisted. It’d been that way since they’d first met, four years ago. Twenty years old, Jen had been touring the rodeo circuit alone for over a year. Colt, twenty-one at the time, rode bulls professionally. Jen had immediately pegged Colt for the player he was, but she’d still gotten a kick out of his flirtatious banter and it hadn’t taken long for them to form a strong bond.

Only, there’d always been a sexual undercurrent to their friendship. One she’d been foolish enough to act on two weeks ago.

Colt leaned farther over the rail, his muscular bulk stretching his blue shirt and snug jeans. His smile vanished as he studied her expression.

Jen’s breath caught at the hot effects of his sensual eyes traveling to her chest. An aggravating inconvenience, since he’d insisted they remain friends.

She dropped her gaze and squirmed. Get it together, girl.

Here she was, about to start a run, and her focus was on Colt. He was becoming a distraction. A threat to what she’d worked so hard to achieve. She had to perform well to get to the finals in Vegas. And she would. No matter how hard she had to work. That board at the Thomas & Mack arena was going to light up with her name at the top of the list.

There was no room in her life for a womanizer. Especially one who had already shot her down, then taken off with another woman. Autumn Langley, to be exact.

The gate clanged open. Autumn trotted out on her beige mare, her dark gaze narrowing on Jen’s face.

Great. Just great. Of all the people to catch her salivating over Colt. And why the heck was Jen even concerned with either of them, anyway? She had a race to win.

Jen firmed her grip on Diamond’s reins and looked away from them. Both of them...together. Her stomach roiled at the images flashing through her mind.

“Colt’s looking fine these days.” Autumn smirked and led her mare in a circle around Diamond. The rhinestones and elegant embroidery on her shirt glinted under the light spilling from the arena, drawing attention to her shapely figure. “Tell him to swing by my RV if he gets bored later.” She laughed throatily. “That man knows how to give a woman a good time.”

Ignore her. A bad run could make anyone angry. Focus on winning.

Jen lifted her chin and smiled. “I’ll be sure to let him know.”

“Good.” Autumn’s mouth flattened into a thin line, her voice curt. “He’ll be grateful to you.”

Jen dismissed the furious heat sparking through her veins and repositioned herself in the saddle. It wasn’t any of her business who Colt spent time with. She knew he partied hard. Had watched firsthand as he’d sweet-talked women in the arena over the years. That was the very reason she’d initially refused to give in to her attraction to him.

One she should’ve remembered when she’d had too many beers, pulled a boneheaded move and kissed him. Instead, she’d suggested they act on their attraction, get it out of their system and consider being friends with benefits—behaving more like a buckle bunny than a seasoned, focused athlete.

She swallowed hard past the lump in her throat, finding it difficult to drag in air.

Autumn shook her head and tossed her black hair over her shoulder. “Dirt’s bad in there.” Her tone softened. “Makes for a tough run. Sure sucks being last.”

Last. Jen winced. She’d always been last. The last student in her class to learn to read. A skill she’d struggled to master due to a learning disability. And the lowest ranked student in her graduating class. Her grades were the worst of all and far below the acceptable level of universities.

She hadn’t let that stop her from pursuing success, though. No way was she going to end up just another small-town nothing. She’d gotten that high school diploma, found work on a local ranch and earned enough money to strike out on her own. Chasing a dream of making a name for herself in the one thing she’d always exceled at.

Racing. Jen flashed a brighter smile and met Autumn’s stare head-on. “I don’t mind bringing up the rear. Being last just makes you hungrier to be first.”

That she knew from experience.

Autumn sighed, eyeing Diamond. “Seriously, girl. Take care out there. That roughed-up dirt can trip up any horse.”

“Don’t you have some cooling down to do, Autumn?” Tammy Jenkins, Colt’s cousin and Jen’s traveling partner, squeezed between the horses, her elbow bumping Jen’s leg. “This is the warm-up ring.”

“Warm-up ring?” Autumn scoffed, surveying the grassy patch surrounding them. “More like someone’s backyard. No wonder everyone’s time is off tonight, with no decent place to prepare.”

“You’re the only one whose time is off,” Tammy said. “There’s plenty of space to prepare and practice for those that put in the effort. You’re just used to having things handed to you.”

Jen’s face heated. “Tammy—”

“No problem.” Autumn held up a hand. “I know when I’m not wanted.” She raised a brow and grinned. “Also know when I am. Don’t forget to pass my message on to Colt.” She tugged on her reins and walked her horse away, chiming over her shoulder, “It’s always so nice talking to you, Tammy.”

Tammy clucked her tongue. “That no good, trash-talking—”

“Calm down, Tammy.” Jen stifled a laugh and reached down to squeeze her shoulder. “She was being decent for a change.”

“Decent, my butt.” Tammy crossed her arms, her green eyes flashing. “You cut people way too much slack. Autumn only speaks to you when she’s up to something. She’s trying to get in your head and trip you up. And no matter what she says, I don’t believe Colt would ever be dumb enough to carouse with her.”

Jen sighed. She could. Autumn wasn’t just a talented racer. She was smart and attractive, too. And Colt had left the bar with her two weekends ago, his brawny arm around her waist and broad hand at her hip. Just a half hour after he’d slipped from Jen’s drunken embrace on the bar stools.

“Doesn’t matter.” Jen ran shaky fingers through Diamond’s mane. “Colt’s fun to flirt with but I’m not interested in him in that way.”

“Right...” Tammy’s lips twitched. “I oughta kick you in the behind.”

“For what?”

“For lying to your best friend. I’ve known for a while now that you have the hots for Colt. Anyone can see it on your face.” Her lip curled in distaste as she glanced over her shoulder. “Even someone as self-absorbed as Autumn.”

Jen’s cheeks burned. Had it been that obvious?

“I’m just proud of you for staying focused and steering clear.” Tammy gave a wry smile. “And proud of him for respecting you enough to do the same. I love Colt, but he’s trouble when it comes to women. He knows that.” She frowned. “I don’t know what’s happened between the two of you lately, but I wish you’d straighten it out. It was bad enough listening to y’all flirt all the time, but it’s worse with you not speaking to each other.”

Jen’s stomach flipped. If Tammy only knew what a fool she’d made of herself. And how much Colt’s rejection had hurt...

No matter. She wasn’t a schoolgirl anymore and knew the rules of the game. Colt was just another sexy bull rider on the circuit who wasn’t looking for a relationship. Even a casual one. At least he’d been a good friend and had been honest with her up front.

“Hey.” Tammy touched her arm. “The higher you are, the harder people try to pull you down. That’s all Autumn was doing. Trying to pull you down.” She patted Diamond’s rump. “You and Diamond are the greatest pair tearing out of the alley. He hugs those barrels like they’re his mama, and you rate him right on the money every time. Your skill surpassed mine and most other racers’ a long time ago.”

Jen doubted that. Other than Autumn, Tammy was the best racer on the circuit. Tammy had taken Jen’s breath away the night they’d met, blasting down the alley and breaking a barrel racing record. Several hours of practice together, thousands of laughs and a mutual love for the sport had led to a solid friendship.

A scattered round of groans sounded from inside the arena. The gate clanged open and a downbeat racer trudged out.

“Show the gal some love.” The announcer’s voice blared. “Knocking over barrels beats eating dirt, and she gave it her best. Time with penalties is 28.17, putting her in last position.”

Jen renewed her grip on the reins, blood rushing and panic welling inside her again. She offered a sympathetic nod to the tearful brunette passing by on her mare.

“Where’s your head, Jen?”

Jen glanced back down, her spirit lifting at Tammy’s encouraging expression and gentle smile. There was no Autumn. No Colt. Just barrels and a run. Tammy was the best dang friend a girl could ask for.

“On tight,” Jen said, tapping her hat down more firmly on her brow. “Can you remind me what the time to beat is?”

“15.32.”

Turn and burn. Jen led Diamond to the alley. Rough dirt or not, that was exactly what she was gonna do.

* * *

JEN WAS STILL PISSED. And he couldn’t blame her.

Colt ducked his head and eased back from the fence as the most recent racer exited the arena. The speakers blared overhead on a stream of heavy metal as Jen made her way to the gate.

Colt tried to catch her eye again. Tried to get one more look at her face to reassure himself she’d shaken off the angry glare she’d shot him earlier and regained her focus. But her head was down, her hat making it impossible for him to get a clear view.

A fresh wave of tension assaulted his muscles. He uncurled his fists from the rail, flinching as his fingers cramped. Such a foolish state he’d worked himself into. He’d never gotten this tense over tangling with an angry bull. So why the hell would he get so terrified of watching a horse run around metal buckets?

“Arlene and I were together for seven weeks. Seven damn weeks. That’s the longest I’ve stayed hooked up with any woman.” His friend Judd Marsh, another bull rider, smacked the rail with his palm and vented at Colt’s side. “She called it quits last night. Right after I got thrown off that nut job of a bull.”

Colt winced. “Sorry, man.”

“That ain’t the worst of it, though. You know what she said to me?”

Colt shook his head.

“She said I don’t pay her enough attention.” He propped one hand on his hip, waved the other in the air and adopted a high-pitched voice. “‘Judd, you’re just not sensitive to my needs.’” He slapped his leg and scowled. “Shit, man. I’m sensitive.”

Colt bit back a laugh.

“Don’t you think I’m sensitive?”

“Yep,” Colt said. “Sensitive enough.”

Colt’s smile slipped. That was what he was becoming. What Jen was turning him into. Too damned sensitive. Which was exactly why he was standing here hyperventilating over the risk of Jen getting thrown off her horse despite the fact that she was a strong rider and it’d been months since her last fall.

Though it’d probably help if he didn’t know how hard that dirt hurt when you slammed into it at high speed. Or how difficult it was to roll outta the way, get back on your feet and avoid a thousand-pound animal crushing the air out of your lungs.

Yeah. He might deal with it better if he hadn’t experienced that himself.

“Hell. Whatever.” Judd scanned the stands, gaze lingering over one section. “There’s always another one out there.”

Colt nodded. Judd was right on that count. There was always another woman. Plenty of them. And Colt had spent more nights than he cared to remember over the past four years trying to enjoy them. Only problem was, he no longer wanted them. Hadn’t wanted anyone but Jen since the second he’d laid eyes on her.

He glanced to his left, managing to catch a quick glimpse of her face as she looked up before facing the barrels. Her long, red curls slipped over her shoulder, obscuring the curves of her cheek and mouth.

His body tightened. That mouth. That beautiful, soft mouth she’d used two weeks ago to whisper a sweet plea in his ear. That she’d trailed temptingly across the stubble on his cheek before kissing him.

What would those lush lips of hers have felt like if he’d given in and kissed her back? Kissed her the way he’d wanted to for years? Deeply and passionately. How would she have responded? With slow, coaxing movements? Or hot, hungry—?

Colt jerked his head to the side. Shut it down. He had no right wondering. No right even contemplating it. Jen was too good a woman for a sexy, meaningless fling. And that’d never be enough for him, anyway. Not with her. Jen wasn’t like the women he played with on the circuit. She was a competitive, focused athlete. One who wasn’t impressed by smooth talk or skilled touches. She was above that. Deserved better.

A woman like Jen deserved a ring, a picket fence and a baby. The whole shebang. The kind of woman he wasn’t interested in and wouldn’t be any good with.

So he’d turned her down. He’d torn himself away before he had a chance to screw up and give in. Had arranged for a mutual friend he trusted to get her back to the motel safely, then had hauled ass with the first woman who threw herself in his path.

Colt’s face tingled, his neck burning. He’d known just the sight of him leaving with another woman would tick Jen off enough to sober her up a bit and take her mind in another direction. She didn’t need to know the farthest he’d gone with Autumn Langley was to the parking lot to help her into her truck. That he’d pulled a 180 right there on the cracked pavement and politely refused the rest of Autumn’s advances.

He winced and rubbed his fingers over his cheek. Or that Autumn had smacked him a good one and accused him of leading her on. Using her to make Jen jealous. Which, no matter how good his intentions had been, was exactly what he’d done.

Yep. It was better he just be that guy. The one not worth crying over. That was the kind he’d been for years, anyway. The kind he’d always be.

“Next up, folks, is Jen Taylor.” Cheers broke out around the arena at the announcement. “She hails from Hollow Rock, Georgia.”

Colt straightened, hands grabbing the rail again.

Jen took her place at the top of the alley. She sat tall in the saddle, her red hair shining against her turquoise blouse, providing a fiery contrast to Diamond’s white hide.

A shot of heat streaked through Colt. Damn, she was beautiful.

“Jen’s partner is Diamond,” the announcer shouted over the crowd, “though you probably know them as Fire and Ice.”

The fans in the bleachers above Colt jumped to their feet, yelping as handfuls of their popcorn bounced off his hat. Colt’s smile returned. Jen was good. Better than good. And everyone knew it. He’d seen her work her way up through grueling hours of practice, endless tours on the circuit and dogged determination.

The same determination that scared the hell out of him when she rode. She didn’t hold back during a run. Wouldn’t let Diamond, either. She burned across the dirt like a flame and Diamond curved around those barrels like a slick coating of frost.

“Jen looks ready,” Judd said, nudging him with an elbow. “Think she can pull it off?”

“Hell, yeah.”

A 15.32? Jen could crack that in her sleep. So long as she kept her focus.

Colt trained his gaze on Jen’s face. Her brown eyes remained pinned to the pocket by the left barrel, lush lips moving slowly in a silent mantra. Diamond shuffled his feet in anticipation as he waited for her permission. A nod, a swift kick and they were off, blasting down the alley and heading for the first barrel at full speed.

The first turn was flawless. Jen checked him with two hands at just the right moment, gripped the saddle horn and led him around clean and easy. Diamond tore out of the turn and dashed to the next. The second rotation carried off without a hitch.

The pair blazed over to the last barrel but Diamond stumbled. His front hoof slipped on the uneven dirt, jerking Jen forward. The rail rattled under Colt’s grip and his boot shot to the lower fence rung. His stomach heaved as the audience gasped.

“Hold on, Red,” he bit out.

She did. Diamond regained his footing and darted around the last turn. Jen loosened the reins, giving Diamond control, and they blasted across the finish line to the applause of the crowd.

Colt relaxed and released his death grip on the fence.

“Damned shame,” Judd said. “That trip’s gonna cost her.”