It was intimidating and it was incredible.
Grady knew before he forced a necessary blink that he would be riding a mechanical bull tonight, whether he wanted to or not.
“Someone’s gotta spot me three bucks,” Rafe shouted, his words garbled and unclear.
Grady figured he’d been drinking something stronger than soda. He’d seen Rafe pull the flask from his denim jacket when the barrel racing began and, judging from his sway and the clumsy way he’d stumbled straight into Grady’s back when he had stopped short earlier to let a young mother with her stroller pass, Grady’s strong suspicion was that Rafe was already three sheets to the wind.
He would have to move some tools from his cab into the truck bed, but Grady knew he would be the one driving Rafe and Maren home that night. No way was Rafe getting behind the wheel, even out on these mostly barren foothill roads.
“You seriously don’t have three bucks?” Leland gave everyone a hard time and Rafe was not immune. Didn’t matter that Rafe’s father was the mayor and his mama owned the only fancy dress shop in town. Rafe was fair game for ridicule, so long as Lee was concerned. “What? You spend it all on that cheap swill you’ve been chugging all night?”
Grady dug his hands into his pockets and looked over at Maren. They were in line for the bull ride outside the tent and the night was uncharacteristically chilly for the time of year. A brisk wind whipped at the tent panels, a flutter that kept beat with the music blaring from within. Maren ran her hands up and down her arms. She was uncomfortable; Grady recognized that look on her. Others would’ve assumed it was from the cold, but Grady knew her better than that.
“Just spot me the money, Lee.”
Rafe shoved Leland, a quick two-palmed smack that met him square on the chest. Lee might’ve been wiry, but what he lacked in bulk, he more than made up for in pride. This would not end well for Rafe. It might be an ugly, uncoordinated battle, but Leland would win, no doubt. He always won.
Grady stepped between the two. He’d been tall since he was a kid, but only recently had he become big. Broad and sturdy. It was something he never used for the purpose of intimidation, and even in that moment, that was not his motive. He just really didn’t want to see Leland wail on Rafe for fear that it would embarrass Maren. He couldn’t understand why, but she saw something in the guy. Grady was trying his best to respect that.
“I suggest you get out of my way, Cutter.”
Seventeen was obviously not the legal drinking age, but Rafe didn’t appear to care about that fact. He also didn’t seem to care that Grady was trying to save him from further humiliation.
It turned out Rafe would find other ways to ensure that outcome.
Shoving past, he wove his way to the front of the line, sweet talking the two brunettes next up to take their chance on the mechanical ride. One must’ve taken sympathy on the guy, because the next thing Grady knew, she was reaching into her pink purse to pull out a few loose bills. She flicked the money Rafe’s direction between two slender fingers. Rafe counted out the singles, handed them to the operator, and bellowed over the throng of strangers, “Watch closely, ladies!” His hands were megaphoned around his sloppy mouth. His face was a blotchy, mottled red and light brown hair stuck to his forehead in clumps. The guy looked terrible and the ride hadn’t even started. “I came here with one girl tonight, but if you like what you see and I get a better offer, I’m all yours!”
Grady’s jaw clamped shut, the ball of muscle at the back aching to twitch if only he gave it permission to react. His fists at his sides did the same.
Next to Grady, Maren’s face blanched. Where her cheeks were once rosy with a blush, they now drained in pallor and her expressive eyes opened wide in shock. Grady didn’t know what to do, but he had to fix this. His instincts said that pummeling the guy was the right and only solution. But when he caught Maren’s gaping stare, he discarded that desire. It would only draw more unwanted attention.
Closing the gap, Grady shifted toward her. Arms by her side, she shook. Her bottom lip was pinned under her teeth and her head lifted up as though in slow motion when Grady came to face her.
“Mare. Tell me what you need from me. Tell me how I can help you.”
“It’s fine, Grady.” Her words waved him off more than the hand that fluttered in dismissiveness. “He doesn’t really mean it.”
“I’m afraid he does.”
“It’s okay.” Everything on her face and in the way her body folded within itself said otherwise. “It’ll be okay.”
“You want to go? I can get you out of here. Let me get you out of here.”
“I shouldn’t leave him. He’s obviously in no place to drive. I’ll be fine. Really.”
Rafe had an old Jeep, one he’d fit with oversized, knobby tires and big KC lights. Sure, Maren could drive it, no problem. Grady had seen the girl run a tractor up and down the fields for hours. But the fact that she could didn’t mean she should. Rafe had invited her to the rodeo. He had asked her out. A man drove his girl home and walked her to the door. He asked her permission before he kissed her and other commonsense things like that.
Every girl deserved that. And Maren? She deserved so much more. More than this joke could ever offer her.
The last thing she deserved was the continuation of Rafe’s inebriated humiliation.
As Grady could’ve predicted, Rafe’s ride was over before it began. The operator spun the mechanical bull in three wildly erratic circles, the last of which launched Rafe into the roped off portion of the tent. He stumbled to stand, not a single bystander coming to his aid even though plenty of spectators were within arms reach. Instead, everyone cleared out of his way as he lumbered side to side, making what should have been a straight line one that zigzagged unnecessarily. Like she could somehow snap him from his stupor, Maren ran to him, her hands lighting on his shoulders just as Rafe lurched forward.
Someone shoved a cup his direction and he grabbed it and swung it in the air like a pendulum, soda sloshing up and over the rim, dousing Maren in a spray of sticky liquid.
Within seconds, Leland took control of Rafe, angling him toward the tent entrance.
Maren stood unmoving.
“Mare!” Grady raced over.
His truck was a short walk away, parked just outside the tent in the dirt lot. The rodeo announcer’s voice boomed over the speakers and the broadcast was met with a chorus of cheers. Grady could hear the revving of motorbikes from the fenced off area to their right, just behind the animal pens. Exhaust plumed in the air. The sounds, the smells, all of it whirled around like a tornado. Maren stood stock still in the middle of all the commotion, shock coating her features and halting her movements liked she’d been drenched in molasses, slowed down and stuck.
Grady took her hand in his. “Come on, Mare. Let’s get you out of here.”
When Grady passed Leland, who was holding onto a hunched over and retching Rafe, his friend said he’d see to it that Kiley and Rafe got home. Grady didn’t have to tell his buddy that he would take care of Maren. That was a given.
They weren’t together, never had been, but she was his in that way. His responsibility.
Grady guided Maren to his truck with one hand pressed on the small of her back. The passenger door squealed in protest as it opened and shut and he made a mental note to oil it the following day. Racing around the bed of the vehicle, Grady pulled at the neck opening of his sweatshirt and tugged it over his head, leaving just his undershirt on. The skin on his upper body pebbled and he quickly joined Maren in the cab, trying to hide the shudder the cold produced.