Chapter 22

Chapter Twenty-Two

Ivy

T he air smelled like a combination of fried food, beer, and animals, which, to some people might have been a combination that would turn your stomach, but I liked it. I didn't know if it was the pregnancy or what, but the smell actually made me kind of hungry.

The sounds of carnival rides and loud, rowdy kids caused me to smile as I made my way through the fairgrounds. I ripped off a big chunk of the sugary funnel cake I was carrying on a flimsy paper plate and popped it into my mouth, chewing with delight.

I'd lived in a small town most of my life, but this was my first time ever going to a rodeo. Until Connor, I'd never even watched any of the events on TV. But when he told me last week that there was a rodeo about an hour from Hope Valley he was competing in and asked if I would come to watch him ride, I quickly said yes.

The past few weeks had been going so well. It felt like Connor and I were rediscovering the friendship we'd first built so long ago. He was the best sort-of-roommate I'd ever had. He showed up at my back door regularly with strawberry cheese Danishes and caffeine free lattes from Muffin Top. He took it upon himself to mow the yard. And there was even one afternoon when I found him up in my old treehouse, prying boards loose. When I rushed out to ask him what he was doing, he said he was replacing the broken or rotted wood so the treehouse would be safe for our kid to use it when they were old enough.

At that point I'd given up trying to keep that protective wall standing.

We had dinner together more nights than not, unless he was out of town for a rodeo or stuck working late at Safe Haven Ranch, and the more time I spent with him, the more I was starting to like him all over again. I'd forgotten how easy his company was, but now with the pregnancy, he'd taken it to a whole new level. He was attentive and considerate and thoughtful. Twice he'd shown up with groceries, fully restocking my fridge and pantry without me having to ask, so if I could show him even an ounce of the support he'd been showing me the past few weeks, I wanted to do it.

When Rae and Lennix found out my plans for the weekend, they'd decided to tag along, dragging Raylan and Zach along with them.

A group of screaming kids ran past, kicking up dust in their hurry to get to wherever they were going. "Ooh, did you see that?" I swallowed the mouthful of fried dough and licked my lips, my craving turning on a dime. "That one kid had a giant turkey leg. Did anyone see where we can get the turkey legs?"

Lennix started cracking up and Rae just glared.

"Wha?" I muttered around another heaping bite of funnel cake.

Her eyes scanned me up and down before narrowing even farther. "Where do you even put all this food, you bitch?"

I snorted, nearly sending powdered sugar out of my nose. I was officially in my twelfth week of pregnancy, and with it came the weirdest food cravings. I'd been standing in the open door of my fridge the other day, crunching on a pickle like people so often did, when I had the thought, hey ! I bet this would taste awesome with mustard on it .

Breaking news: it did.

Pregnant Ivy was a culinary genius.

"My boobs," I mumbled around fried, sugar-coated bread. And wasn't that the damn truth? You might not have been able to tell I was pregnant by looking at me, but my boobs had gotten insane . And my nipples were so freaking sensitive.

"Jeez, don't remind me." Lennix looked longingly at my chest before staring down at hers. "I'm so freaking jealous right now."

Zach let out an uncomfortable cough, twisting around so his eyes trailed after Turkey Leg Kid. "I think I saw a sign for them a few booths back." He hiked a thumb over his shoulder. "Think I'll go check it out."

"For the love of all that's holy, take me with you," Raylan grumbled, following after him.

"Grab a turkey leg for me!" I shouted after them as they disappeared from sight, getting swallowed up by the large groups of people.

I checked the time on my phone. "The rodeo should be starting soon. We should probably head over."

We made our way from the fairgrounds over to the arena where the events were held, and I was surprised to see just how big the whole setup was. The stands were already filling up quickly, so the three of us hustled to find seats. So far I'd had a lot of fun, and I was excited to get to watch Connor ride in person.

Things got underway and I was swept up in the energy of it all. I really liked the barrel racing, saddle bronc riding, and the steer roping. I wasn't huge on the steer wrestling, mainly because it looked like it hurt those poor animals' necks, but Lennix assured me they were all fine.

"Oh, this is the event Zach used to compete in, she pointed out to Rae and me just as the tie-down roping kicked off.

Zach and Raylan made it back to us—turkey legs in hand—right before the bull riding kicked off. Anticipation thrummed in my veins as I watched one rider after another. The excitement in the arena was infectious, and I soaked it up like a sponge, letting it wash over me as I munched on my turkey leg and pressed my hand to my belly. There was no way Chickpea was cognizant of, well, anything, actually, but it still sort of felt like the two of us were here to support Daddy in his job.

I didn't know all that much about bull riding, and I couldn't tell you whether or not any of the guys I'd watched so far had ridden well or not, but it had been impressive, though I didn't get the same thrill watching them as I did every time I'd watched Connor on TV or YouTube. Given the adrenaline rush I was experiencing then, I could only imagine how it felt for him. He had to have been buzzing with it.

About halfway through the announcer called out a name that had at least half the crowd on their feet cheering and clapping. Apparently this Vance Grimes dude was a crowd favorite. When I lifted my hands to clap for the next rider, Zach quickly reached over and stopped me. He shook his head when I looked over at him quizzically. "We don't like that guy," he told me ominously.

"Why not?"

"Just ask Connor. He'll tell you."

With that cryptic explanation, we faced the arena as the gate flew open and the bull surged out, thrashing violently and rattling around the guy on its back like a ragdoll.

People all around me hooted and hollered, and when the buzzer finally sounded and the rider hopped off, I caught a glimpse of why Connor might not have cared for the guy. As the bullfighters rushed into the arena to chase the bull out, the rider showboated and hammed it up for the crowd. He even held his hand up to his ear and waved them on when the crowd started cheering his name to keep them going and feed his ego.

His smile was too arrogant for my liking and he appeared too polished for a job that consisted of getting on the back of a dirty animal for eight seconds before being tossed in the dirt. I mean, the guy's hair was gelled into place, for crying out loud. And from where I sat in the stands, I could see that his teeth looked unnaturally white and comically large. Whoever had done this dude's veneers should be fired. This guy's appearance mattered a great deal to him. He was attractive and he knew it, and if I had to guess, he expected those around him to acknowledge it.

When he was finished receiving adoration from his fans, he sauntered over to the fence and hopped up, leaning over to lock lips with a busty brunette hanging over from the other side. The camera that reflected on the big screen at the end of the arena panned in on the couple just as the kiss went from congratulatory to inappropriate-for-children-to-see. And when they finally broke apart, they didn't appear to care that they'd just given everyone a show they might not have wanted to watch.

I turned away from the couple and looked back at the chute to watch the next rider, and a second later my eyes homed in on a familiar figure climbing onto the top of the metal fence next to the chute.

The moisture was sucked out of my mouth at the sight of Connor in all his bull-rider glory. He had on Wranglers, only this time he wore a pair of brown leather chaps over them that accentuated his ass and thick thighs. And dayum , but the man could wear the shit out of a pair of chaps. He wore a padded vest over his chambray shirt that did nothing to hide the bulk and power of his shoulders and arms.

"What's he doing?" I leaned over and whispered to Zach as Connor started talking to the guy who'd climbed onto the back of the bull banging around in the chute.

"Kid riding next is new to the circuit," he started to explain. "Connor's givin' him some tips so he has a better ride."

My heart stutter-stepped as I watched Connor's arms move animatedly as he said something to the guy in the chute. "Does he do that a lot? Help other riders, I mean?"

Zach nodded. "He's been at this a long time. Has the knowledge and likes to share it with the younger riders to help them improve. He said once that there's no point in bein' the best if there's no real competition. He wants to make sure the guys he goes up against know their shit. That way, if he beats them, he knows he earned it. Plus, he just likes helpin' out."

I slowly faced forward and parted my lips, letting out a shaky exhale as my core began to throb. I shouldn't have thought that was sexy, but damn it, I did. My voice came out throatier than normal as I asked, "And is he? The best?"

Zach looked at me with a crooked smile and nodded. "Yep. Guy that just rode is right behind him in ranking, but can't seem to push himself over. He can't stand Connor 'cause he knows he's better but doesn't want to admit it."

"Ah." So that explained why we didn't like the guy. He was a cocky asshole.

The gate opened and I went back to watching as the guy Connor had instructed held himself on the bull, dead set on tossing him right out of the arena, with nothing but sheer determination. Then I watched as the buzzer sounded and Connor stood up on the fence, cupping his hands around his mouth and whooping for the kid before clapping proudly and cheering him on.

Turned out, Connor was the last rider of the evening, right after the kid he'd helped. I didn't know if it was my imagination, or if the bull he'd pulled was a meaner bastard than all the others, but as the animal beat itself against the metal panels of the chute, a flurry of nervousness filled my stomach.

If I thought the crowd got loud for that Vance guy, it was nothing compared to how they went positively feral for Connor.

My heart started to race as Connor gingerly lowered himself onto the beast, sucking in a sharp gasp when he was thrashed around a little bit.

"It's all good, Ivy," Zach reassured me. "He's got this. Drew the best bull of the night."

Well, that answered that. I knew enough to know that drawing the best bull meant you basically got an animal who wants to maim and murder you. The bull Connor was clinging to was, in fact, meaner than all the others.

I held my breath and sent up a silent prayer as Connor secured his hand with the rope, giving it a few testing tugs before nodding, then the gate flew open with a crash and the bull went charging out, the father of my baby attached to its back.

Eight seconds felt like an eternity. The noise in the arena was deafening as nearly everyone surged to their feet. I followed suit, clasping my hands over my mouth and watching with wide-eyed fascination as Connor's hips moved in time with every buck and twist of the animal beneath him, almost as if he could anticipate its movements before it made them. He was fluid, a rolling wave. A thing of beauty. It didn't take a genius to understand why he was the best. You had to watch him close enough and you'd see it.

The buzzer sounded and the noise went from deafening to straight up insanity. I was yelling so loudly my throat started to hurt as Connor untangled his hand from the rope and launched himself to the ground. Where that Vance asshole preened like a peacock for attention, my man oozed big dick energy without even trying.

Wait, no . . . not my man.

I shook that thought away and watched Connor dominate the arena. It was so slight most people wouldn't have noticed, but as someone who'd been watching Connor like a creeper the past couple of weeks, I didn't miss the way the knee he'd injured the year prior buckled a little more than the other when he landed, or the wince on his face before he quickly schooled his features.

And I couldn't help but wonder if Connor had been keeping a secret that could potentially get him seriously hurt... or worse.