“I’m happy for you,” Tess said. “But I’m ready to drop. I need my rest.” She was about to excuse herself and disappear when she remembered her resolve to play along with him. This could be a useful opportunity. “Maybe a very short celebration,” she said. “Can we check Whirlwind on the way out?”
“Sure. I’ll have my boys keep an eye on him if you want.”
“No need. I wouldn’t bother, but I promised Lexie I wouldn’t leave him alone too long. He’s her baby, you know.”
“Does that mean Whirlwind’s going to have a little brother? How’s that going to work?”
“We’ll see. I’m sure Lexie will manage. I just hope her real baby doesn’t show up the week of the World Finals.”
They left the arena, pausing on the way out to greet people they knew. By the time they reached the pens, the lights had been turned low. Security cameras blinked their red eyes overhead. The armed guard who stood at the entrance recognized them and let them pass.
The bulls were settling in for the night. They snorted, lowed, and passed gas, the sounds blending in a murmur that was almost soothing. Whirlwind was snoring in his pen, fast asleep.
“We can check your bulls, too,” Tess offered.
Brock had one remaining bull to buck in tomorrow’s final round—a massive white beast named Cannonball. “Don’t bother,” he said. “They’ll be fine. Let’s go get some nachos.”
Side by side, they walked through the parking lot. With the sun gone, the spring night was chilly but not cold. The air smelled of exhaust fumes, tobacco smoke, and barbecue, but the coolness on Tess’s face was refreshing.
The city lights obscured the stars, but the waning moon shone brightly, casting shadows across the broken sidewalk. Neither of them said much. It was as if they both sensed that talk would only heighten the tension between them.
Which world were they in now?
CHAPTER FIVE
“THERE IT IS—LEFTY’STAVERN.” BROCK POINTED DOWN THEblock. Tess saw a sputtering orange neon sign, hanging above a nondescript door.
“It looks like a dive,” she said.
“It is. That’s half the charm of it. Great country music, dancing, beer, and nachos to die for.”
“Sounds like I’m in for an adventure.” Tess yawned. All she really wanted was to go back to the truck and sleep.
“Maybe you need more adventures in your life, Tess. Or at least more fun.”
“This is enough adventure for tonight. Just don’t expect me to dance.”
“Relax. I’m not expecting anything.” He opened the door and ushered her through.
Inside, Lefty’s Tavern was dimly lit, with a half dozen round tables, a bar, and a dance floor with a bandstand, where two guitar players, a bass, and an ancient-looking man with a deep, gravelly voice were performing an old Hank Williams song.
“They’re actually pretty good,” Tess said, as Brock seated her at a table.
“The old guy’s here almost every time I come in. From what I’ve overheard, he used to be a pretty big star, but don’t ask me to remember his name.”
When the waiter, who walked with a limp and looked like a former cowhand, approached their table, Brock asked for a double order of nachos to split and a Corona. “And you, miss?” the waiter asked.
“Just a Coke, thanks.” Tess glanced at Brock. “I’m not about to cheat on my sister.”
“I never thought you would,” Brock said. “I want you to know I respect you for that.”
“That just might be the nicest thing you’ve ever said to me—unless it’s something you say to all the ladies.”
“Not that. Other things, maybe. But not that. Respect is for you.”
Tess fixed her gaze on the rodeo posters that covered the walls, wishing she could take back her last words and what they’d implied. Of course, Brock would have women in his life. A man like him—handsome, virile, and powerful—couldn’t be expected to live like a monk. He could even have a sexy, sophisticated mistress tucked away somewhere.
But why had she brought it up, even as a joke? And why did his answer make her feel as if she’d been put in her place, like a child who’d spoken out of turn?