“I’m sorry, Maze. It’s just that I don’t think of you like . . .”
“A woman. No man seems to. They either hate me for competing in what they consider their sport or think of me as their cute little tomboy sister. You can turn around now. I won’t gross you out with my childlike body.”
He turned around to find her dressed in a western shirt, jeans, and the red boots. She was completely covered and yet, his brain just kept bringing up images of her completely naked. There was nothing childlike about her body. He had to hold down the towel to keep his penis from making a tent it wanted Maisy to camp under.
“You can wipe the worried look off your face, Sawyer,” she said. “I won’t tell a soul about what happened last night.” She tugged on her hat and gave him a sassy look. “It wasn’t that great anyway.” She turned and walked out the door.
Sawyer stared at it long after she was gone. Not that great? For a man who worked hard to give women the best time they ever had in bed, Maisy words stung. But he only let his wounded pride hurt for a moment before he released his breath and headed back to the bathroom to shower. Unless he wanted his performance in the arena tonight to be as bad as his performance in bed last night, he needed to pull himself together.
The shower helped his aching head and sore muscles, but not his guilt. Now he didn’t just feel guilty about breaking his word to Lincoln, he also felt guilty about the way he’d treated Maisy. She had to be here for the rodeo. He’d find her tonight and apologize.
After his shower, he ordered room service and got dressed. He had just sat down on the bed to tug on his boots when he noticed his wallet lying on the ground. A thought struck him. A thought that caused his heart to freeze in his chest.
He prayed as he grabbed the wallet and flipped it open. “Please let it be gone. Please let it be gone.”
The condom was still there.
Chapter Two
“Hey, Little Girl, you need some help carrying that saddle?”
Maisy glanced at the cowboy sitting on the railing with his buddies. She really wanted to wipe the smirk off his face—off all their faces—with her fist. But that wouldn’t do anything but make her look even more childish. So she ignored the statement and grinned widely. “I think I can handle it. You just concentrate on your own saddle . . . and keeping in it. From what I hear, Rowdy, you didn’t even clear the gate your last ride before you were on your ass. While my last ride, I stayed on the full eight seconds.”
The other cowboys laughed and one socked Rowdy in the arm. “She does have a point, Rowdy.”
Rowdy’s face grew as red as his hair. “That’s because she’s riding in the women’s rodeo and everyone knows they don’t give those girls the best bucking horses. She wouldn’t stand a chance on the broncs we ride.”
“I guess we’ll find out today,” she said with smug satisfaction.
Rowdy’s eyes widened. “You’re ridin’ today?”
“I sure am.” She shouldn’t be acting so cocky. It was a fluke she was getting to ride. Women didn’t usually get to compete in men’s professional rodeo events. But one of the sponsors of this rodeo had seen her ride in Waco and was impressed enough to give her the opportunity to ride here in Houston. This was her chance to prove she was just as good as any man. But until she did, she’d have to put up with male ego.
“That’s bullshit,” Rowdy said. “Women don’t belong in a man’s sport. Go home, Little Girl, and ride your rocking horse.”
Before she could tell him where he could stick a rocking horse, someone answered for her. “Fuck off, Rowdy.”
Sawyer Dawson stepped up next to her. She didn’t pay much attention to the hitch in her breathing or the extra beat of her heart. Sawyer had always had that effect on her—more so now that she’d seen him naked and felt all those fine muscles pressed against her. Of course, it had all been a mistake. Or as he’d made perfectly clear, a bad decision he wanted to forget.
His reaction to finding her in his shower had hurt much more than Rowdy saying women didn’t belong in rodeo. Rowdy had made an ignorant generalization. Sawyer’s disgusted reaction had been much more personal. And she still felt hurt about it. As hurt as she’d felt when he’d started avoiding her whenever they ran into each other. At one time, she’d thought they were friends. Sawyer was one of the few cowboys who treated her like an equal . . . just not a woman.
“Mind your own business, Sawyer,” she said. “I don’t need anyone fighting my battles for me.”
He completely ignored her and continued to glare at Rowdy. “Apologize to Maisy.”
“Apologize?” Rowdy laughed. “Why would I apologize for stating the truth? You said yourself that you didn’t think women should be riding roughstock. Now suddenly you’ve changed your mind?” He paused, and his eyes narrowed. “Wait a minute, are you screwing Little Girl, Saw? I thought you liked your women to act like women.”
Before Maisy could blink, Sawyer jerked Rowdy off the fence and shoved him up against the railing. “Don’t fuck with me, Rowdy. I’m not in the mood today. Now apologize or I’m going to kick your ass from here to Mexico.”
Maisy wouldn’t mind seeing the two men beat each other senseless. But if she was caught in the middle of a fight, she could lose her chance to compete. And she wasn’t about to let two arrogant cowboys ruin this for her.
Dropping her saddle, she hurried over and grabbed Sawyer’s arm. “Stop it, Sawyer, before you get us all kicked out.” When Sawyer didn’t release Rowdy, she grabbed his ear and pulled like her mama used to do her when she refused to pay attention. He didn’t seem to care about the pain, but he did care when she knocked his cowboy hat off. Most riders had lucky hats and were superstitious about them touching the ground before a ride. He let go of Rowdy’s shirt to catch it, but once he did, he didn’t relent.
“Apologize to Maisy.”
Rowdy held up his hands. “Fine. Sorry if I hurt your feelings, Little Girl. But I just don’t think women should waste anyone’s time by trying to ride broncs or bulls. And I have a twenty that says you won’t even last two seconds today.”
Before she could take the bet, Sawyer turned to her. “Today? You’re riding today?”
“I am if you don’t get me taken off the roster for starting a fist—” She didn’t get to finish before Sawyer picked up her saddle and grabbed her arm, pulling her over to the stock pens.
“What has gotten into you?” She jerked away. “Are you drunk again? If you are, you might want to think about rehab. One night of tequila is one thing. Drowning in it every day is another.”
“I’m not drunk.” He tossed her saddle over the railing of the stock pen. “As much as I hate to agree with Rowdy, I think you riding today is a bad idea.”
“So he was right. You don’t think women belong in roughstock.”
“Not for the reasons you think. Women can ride just as well as men—if they get the same opportunities. We both know women haven’t been given those opportunities. Your women’s bronc riding association is a great organization, but it just started. It doesn’t have the money professional rodeo has. Money that can get the best bucking horses in the business.“