CHAPTER 44

jackson

A my Porter, my agent, was single-handedly the most irritating person in my life—and that was fucking saying something. While the woman was partially responsible for my fame and name as a bull rider, she was also the one who’d cultivated the image of me when I refused to pretend I wasn’t gay just because a bunch of men weren’t comfortable with me. But the older I got, the more fucking angry I got about the whole damn thing.

She also had this habit of endless phone calls and text messages. Considering everything else going on in my life, I was ignoring the woman. Was it smart to ignore my agent as the season approached? Probably not but it kept me sane.

Until she fucking started emailing. I stared at one of her many emails as I sat bored on my horse in the field .

Jackson,

Since you won’t answer any of my phone calls, I’m stuck with sending this email instead. You know how I hate emails. It’s an impossible way to communicate when dealing with time-sensitive matters.

Lexington Farms would like to have a conversation with you when the season starts. I’ve secured them as your sponsor. They are looking forward to the upcoming season with you.

No arguing!

Call me.

Amy

The fuck? Lexington Farms was a major competitor of Double Arrow. The downfall of my ranch was giving them a fuck ton of business—something Rex Lexington had been overly nice and sympathetic about in a way that sat wrong with me. This felt underhanded.

I typed out a quick message because fuck that.

No.

The answer is no.

Not a fucking chance.

And if I have to spell this shit out for you: I’m not taking a handout from the people benefiting from my business failing.

I didn’t bother signing it before sending it. She knew who I was.

My scowl was practically permanent at this point when dealing with Amy. The mood carried over as I pressed a button on my radio .

“How we looking out there, boys?” I asked, doing a random check-in. I needed something to do and micromanaging them was as good a task as any.

“ It ain’t too— ” Peter’s response was cut off with static.

“Fuck,” I grumbled. Overall, the radios were a good idea, but sometimes, they were just a pain in the ass depending on cloud coverage. I was too grumpy for all this crap. I pressed the button again. “Peter?”

The sound of whooping and laughter mixed with the static.

“What the fuck is going on over there?” I demanded.

“ Ooh-wee! Look at ‘em go! ”

“Who?” I snapped. What the fuck were they doing over there? I didn’t like not knowing what was going on with my ranch.

“ Just you wait! They’re coming your way! ” Peter laughed.

“Who the fuck is coming…” My words trailed off as I caught sight of what had my men riled up.

It was West.

West was riding Thunder Jack.

West was back on a horse.

And damn did he look good.

I stared for all of a few seconds, taking in his wind-blown hair and relaxed stature. There was a flash of familiarity—a little glimpse of the West I grew up with. He’d never looked more comfortable in his skin than when he was on the back of a horse.

And from the look of it, some things never changed.

I urged my horse Zeus forward, and he broke into a run. We galloped across the field, following after West. For as fast as Zeus was, he had nothing on Thunder Jack.

But I was used to chasing after West. Growing up, we’d always been like this. On a horse, he was fast and reckless. Free and unrestrained. His pick in horses always reflected that part of him.

And me? I never minded chasing him down. Hell, I still didn’t. There was an exhilaration in pushing myself to keep up with him. A thrill in the challenge.

I’d chase West anywhere.

The North Elm River bordered the edge of the ranch. The region was largely untouched. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d come out this far. And even as they neared the bank, Zeus slowed. They crashed into it with a massive splash while I pulled up on the bank. I leaned on the pommel, watching with utter fascination as Thunder Jack trampled through the water. But it wasn’t the horse that held my rapt attention.

It was the giant smile on West’s face. The utter joy in his expression was a sight to take in—one that tugged at my heart in a way I hadn’t known possible.

“Afraid of getting that hat wet, cowboy?” West teased, that grin never wavering. Hell, if he kept on smiling, I’d let him make fun of my hat all he wanted.

“Yup,” I drawled and tipped my hat in his direction. His smile widened, and damn if I didn’t love it. “I see you finally got back on a horse.”

“Yeah.” He ran a hand through his dark hair, pushing wet strands away from his face.

“Feel good?”

“Feels good.” That made me stupidly happy . Not that I told him that.

“Good,” I said.

“I’ll race you back,” he said, and I made a face. We both knew he’d win. “What? You afraid the hat’s going to weigh you down, cowboy?”

Yeah, I fucking liked it when he called me that. I liked the smirk he wore and the depth of his voice when he said it. I felt it in every nerve in my body.

“You’re on,” I shot back, feigning my annoyance.

I had the window to gain a lead as he nudged Thunder Jack forward, prompting the horse to climb up the angled bank. But for the life of me, I got caught up in his smile.

That moment cost me the win, but fuck, I didn’t care.