Chapter 22
Sitting there with her,it was like old times. Scarfing back food that would go right to our hips, we giggled about boys, dreamed about me making it big in the rodeo - even if the PBR wasn't exactly rodeo - and I tried to settle back into the reality of Spring Creek, Missouri.
Home had its own kind of excitement. Most of it centered around avoiding the guys by the pool tables that I used to compete against. Some of it was catching up on the latest gossip from church last Sunday. Mostly, we giggled about what I should wear next weekend. Shelby was all about "girling" me out. I wanted to look good, knowing I'd be on camera, but the last thing I needed was to have the guys think I wasn't serious. Somehow, we had to find a way to make both work, which wouldn't be easy if I was planning on wearing pink.
She had other plans. According to Shelby, just pink would be boring. I needed to add a little something to it. A color just as bright, so I could make the whole thing mine. I was game, but we couldn't figure out what would work best. Still, it was fun to laugh about it. Even more when she tried to convince me that glitter should be a color.
We'd just finished our meals when a commotion on the other side of the Elbow made everyone look. A few guys were pointing at the windows. Others were crowding closer. Slowly, it seemed like everyone noticed and fell silent. That was when my phone rang.
In the resulting hush, the sound was loud, making a few people look. Considering it had to be almost eight, I figured that was my dad, so swiped at the screen. "Yeah?"
"Hey!" The voice didn't belong to my father, but it sounded familiar. "So I saw this exit sign that said Spring Creek. That's your hood, right?"
"Uh huh," I mumbled, pulling the phone back to look at the caller ID. It was just a number.
"Who is it?" Shelby asked.
I shook my head, but the guy on the other end kept going. "Yeah. Seems like your shit-kicker town just has a diner. Devil's Elbow, I think the sign says, but half the lights aren't working. You really live out here?"
Sucking in a breath, I spun in my chair, looking toward the parking lot. The same way the guys by the pool tables had been pointing. Out there in the sodium vapor lights was a big, black truck plastered with the PBR logo. Across the tailgate, it clearly said, "J.D. Adkins, the best of the best." Leaning against it, with his hat pulled down to hide his face, was the guy who'd come to my rescue at least twice last weekend.
"J.D.?" I asked into my phone.
He chuckled. "You always talk to strange guys this long not knowing who they are? No, don't answer that. You talked to me. Yeah, sweetie. So help me out, here. I'm at this dive - "
"Come inside! I'm having dinner with my bestie."
His head jerked up, almost dislodging the dark hat on his head. Hoping he could see through the tinted glass, I waved. A crooked smile cracked his face, and he nodded. "Well, look at that. Guess I picked the right exit."
"There's only one. You want a beer?"
He didn't answer, but I saw his grin spread as he hung up on me and sauntered toward the door. Across from me, Shelby's mouth hung open. Twice, she tried to say something, but all that came out were very unflattering grunts.
"Oh my God," she finally muttered under her breath. "Cody! That's J.D., and he's even hotter in person! No, wait. Don't let him know I ever said that."
Biting my lip to keep from giggling, I reached over and patted her shoulder. "You're married, hun. Just tell yourself that over and over."
"And over," she moaned, her eyes moving to the door behind me.
I twisted in the booth to see just as J.D. walked in. His eyes scanned the rustic dining area, and I waved him over. He nodded and started walking, his eyes flicking over Shelby, then returning to hang on me. When he got a little closer, he reached up to drag his hand over his mouth, but it didn't hide the smirk - or the new look in his eye.
"Evening, ma'am," he told my best friend.
"Me?" Shelby gasped.
I slapped his hip, since he'd stalled out beside my seat. "You're scaring my friend. Shut up and sit down."
This time, he didn't try to hide his devious smirk. Dropping onto the cheap vinyl beside me, he scooted me over with his leg until I was pinned against the wall. "Cody, ya look different at home. Push up bra?"
"Fuck off. What the hell are you doing here, J.D.?"
His eyes flicked over to Shelby, then back. It was almost too quick to notice, but I got the impression he was checking to make sure he hadn't pissed her off yet. "Well, figured since I was passing right by, might give you some good news in person. Well, and I kinda missed ya a bit."
"You expect me to believe that?" I asked.
"I did," he insisted. "Ty ain't the only one who enjoyed hanging out with the rookie. Now, you gonna introduce me to your friend, or you prefer no one knows that we're tight?"
I rolled my eyes at him. "J.D., that's Shelby, my best friend in the world. Now be nice. She's married."
"Pleasure to meet you, Shelby," he said, offering his hand over the table. "J.D. Adkins. Maybe you've heard of me?"
Her head began to sway up and down, but her mouth still hadn't closed. "Uh huh."
"You watch the PBR, then?"
"Uh huh," she managed again.
I bumped him with my shoulder. "Stop it before you break her. Yeah, we know who you are. Shel helped me study the pros, so she's seen your face in as much dirt as I have."
"You're killin' me here, Cody. I only got a few good pickup lines, and you just ruined one."
"And she's still married," I told him. "So quit."
"Wasn't plannin' on using them on her." He winked at me.
I felt my brow crease even as I tried to stop it. That was not at all what I'd expected. All weekend long, he'd been completely Team-Ty. I'd honestly thought he'd put me squarely in the friend zone. Then again, he could just be full of it. I never really knew with J.D.
His eyes slipped down my body, and his smile turned a little softer for a moment before returning to the typical impish look he always wore. It was that split second of honesty that made me realize the truth. He wasn't joking. J.D. liked me. That was why he'd stepped up in Tulsa.
Wait. J.D. liked me?
"Right," he said before I could start dwelling on that. "So the whole reason I came to Bubbaville was to ask you about sponsors."
I shook my head, confused. "I'm just the rookie."
"Yeah, but that doesn't mean you can't get some sponsors. Your vest is basically naked. Figured that as your mentor, I'm gonna have to fix that."
"How?" I asked, now wondering more about this whole mentor status.
He pinched at the waist of my jeans, pulling them gently. "What brand ya wear?"
Shelby answered before I could. "Fierce Denim. She likes them better than Wranglers, since they don't make her look like a stick."
"Thanks," I shot her way, along with a dirty look. "Keeping it real there, Shel." Her mouth flopped, then she grabbed her beer, shoving it to her face to hide the expression. I just sighed. "So yeah. Why?"
J.D. chuckled wickedly. "Lasso is one of my top sponsors. Tillman, the company that owns them, loves me. Guess I make bank for them. Anyways, I figured I'd call my rep and see if they had any interest in the ladies' market. Thought he was gonna shit himself."
"Huh?" I wasn't quite keeping up.
"Fierce Denim," J.D. said very slowly. "They want to put their big, pink name on your vest. Maybe your helmet."
"Ok?"
"And they'll cover your entry fees," he finished.
"Oh." I had to swallow to make my brain work right. "That would be nice."
"I figured." He winked, then turned, lifting his hand for a waitress, exposing the tattoos across his knuckles. "Either of y'all want a beer? My treat, ladies."
Shelby's head was bobbing, but she couldn't manage more than that. "Two," I told him. "You really think they'd be interested in me?"
He didn't answer until he'd not only ordered three beers, but also handed the waitress a very crisp bill. "Cody, they asked three times if you'd be willing to wear pink, and if I thought you'd be willing to wear their jeans. Sent Max, my rep, a link to the stream from this weekend, and told him you already were. He's putting together an offer."
I didn't know what to say. Four days ago, I'd been no one. Now? I was sitting beside the most famous bull rider in the PBR, talking about getting paid to do this. It was all happening so fast. I'd expected to fight a lot harder to get any traction on the Tough Enough Series, but this was really happening. Either that, or J.D. was setting me up, but so far he'd been on my side. Enough that he'd taken one hell of a fine to keep me from getting in trouble.
There was only one way to show him what I thought. I wrapped my arms around his shoulders and hugged. "Thank you, J.D. God, thank you so much."
Awkwardly, he patted my back. "I try real hard to take care of my rookies, ya know."
"Yeah, you do."
"Put'er there," he teased, tapping his cheek.
I didn't even hesitate, kissing him soundly on the line between his beard and the smooth skin of his cheek. "Best mentor ever," I whispered, hugging him again.
But Shelby hadn't been the only person awestruck. From behind me, a familiar voice spoke up. "Thought you said you were going to Tulsa to ride, Cody. Looks to me more like you were getting ridden."
That was Cole. It seemed my ex-boyfriend had just decided it was a great time to make an appearance.
J.D. didn't hesitate. He exploded out of the booth and to his feet, clenching a fist at his side. "Who the fuck do you think you are, Bubba?"
My ex offered his hand as if this was perfectly normal. "Cole Carson. Been riding Touring Pro division for a couple years now. Pleasure to meet a pro."
J.D. just slapped his hand away. "Suck up a bit more, punk. Ain't no one talking about my rookie like that, get me?" Then he stepped closer, spreading his shoulders to show just how broad his chest really was. His arms were held open in a clear invitation to throw down. "Last guy who gave her shit got thirteen stitches. No one messes with my girl."
"Yeah?" Cole's celebrity crush was fading fast. "She isn't that good in bed, dude."
This time, J.D. pushed, one hand hitting hard on each of Cole's shoulders. "She's that good on a bull. Better than some idiot like you will ever be. Least she has balls."
"J.D.!" Scooting to the end of the bench, I grabbed the only thing I could reach, the waist of his shirt.
Like a switch, the anger vanished when he looked back at me. "Yeah?"
"Don't start shit I'll have to live with."
He looked back at Cole, the glare returning right on cue. "Ain't no one slut-shaming my rookie. No. One. You get me, boy?"
"Can't help it if it's true," Cole shot back.
I could hear J.D.'s teeth grinding from here, and I could only guess what he'd do next. "I'm sure you got a crappy ex somewhere, right?" I begged him. "Just leave it alone."
"Man, Cody, that shit's not cool. Not fuckin' cool." Then he pointed at Cole. "I'll break you, boy. You and all your dime-store buddies. Stay the hell away from my rookie, or I'll make sure you really regret it." His eyes narrowed. "Get me?"
"Whatever," Cole grumbled, turning away. "Damn, and I used to think he was cool, too."
"Don't care," J.D. called back. "I'm the one with a few mil. Means I don't really care if you like me none, punk, but if you mess with Cody, I'll make sure you hate my fucking guts for the rest of your miserable life."
"J.D.," I tried again, tugging him back to the bench.
This time, he sat, offering an apologetic look to Shelby. "Sorry, ma'am. I just don't put up with the hazing crap."
This time, she was finally able to find some words. Reaching over, she grabbed his hand and squeezed. "Me either, and they've been giving her that crap for as long as I can remember. Thanks. I finally feel like I don't have to worry about her going off to be a real bull rider."
"Promise." He lifted his eyes, meeting hers. "I take real good care of the ladies in my life - or try to. Not gonna let anything happen to my friends. Swear to you, Shelby. I ain't exactly got enough of them to lose."
"Well, you just got another. I always thought you were the best rider in the PBR. I mean, before Cody went off and got qualified." She flashed a smile over to me, her cheeks a little too pink. "Now, it's gonna be a tie. I can't believe I finally got to meet you, Mr. Adkins."
"Just J.D.," he told her, his voice no longer as brusque as normal. "Maybe when I come back to get Cody's sponsorship all signed, I can take you both to lunch?" He looked at me, almost begging for something. "Or, I dunno, whatever else you people do out here in the sticks."
"This is it," I told him.
Shelby just shook her head like I'd missed something obvious. "Well, that is, unless you wanna come to the stacking party this Wednesday?" she offered.
"Stacking party?" He looked completely lost.
That was when I realized that no matter how good of a bull rider J.D. was, he hadn't grown up on a farm. "After we cut, bale, and stack the hay for my boss, we have a cookout by the creek," I explained. "Just a casual thing, and family-friendly, but you're welcome to come hang out."
He nodded, that smile making one more appearance. "Yeah, sounds like a hell of a lot more fun than another bar in another town. Mind if I tell Ty?"
This time, I was the one smiling. "Nope. I think that would be a great idea. Maybe even Renato and Hannah?"
"Done. Pretty sure Jorge and Tanner are around too." He tilted his bottle to his lips, sucking back the last of his beer. "And I still got a couple miles before I get to my hotel. Can I walk you ladies to your truck, or you staying a while longer?" He looked over his shoulder, making it clear what he meant.
Shelby grabbed her purse from where it sat beside her and slid to the end. "Nope. I think we're done. Gotta pick up Eric, anyways."
He nodded like he understood. "Your husband?"
"Uh." She looked at me, but I had nothing to help her out of this. "No, that's my boy."
"Yeah?" he asked, actually sounding interested. "How old?"
"Three."
"Well." J.D. turned back, waiting for me to get out from behind the table. "You sure don't look old enough to have a three-year-old, but if he's anything like his mama, I bet he's real sweet. Maybe I'll even get to meet him at this stacking thing?"
Shelby just nodded, still a bit star-struck. But when I made it off the bench, J.D. slipped his arm around my waist and gestured for my best friend to lead the way. Holding me like that, he walked the two of us out to the parking lot. When he'd offered to escort us to our car, he'd meant it: waiting until we were both in, the doors closed, and our seat belts on before he finally turned to his truck. Just as we backed out, he tipped his hat to us, then climbed behind the driver's seat.
Yeah. Having friends in high places was a hell of a lot nicer than I'd expected.