Ride: A Bad Boy Romance by Roxie Noir Read Free Book Online Page A

fifteen feet above the ground, over the bucking chutes. On it is a blond woman wearing jeans and a black t-shirt, a camera up to her face.
    “That the photographer?” he asks, looking at up her.
    She takes the camera away from her face, looks at the back, and adjusts something very carefully, a look of total concentration on her face.
    “Yeah, that’s Mae,” I say.
    “You failed to mention that she was a pretty young thing,” he says, and gives me a joking look. “From the way you talked about her, I thought she was practically an ogre.”
    Something tightens in my chest, something unpleasant and ugly. I brush it away and shrug.
    “You know now,” I say. “Besides, she’s working. Good luck.”
    Raylan just laughs, like he’s not fooled at all.
    “She turn you down?” he teases. “You’re sore about something .”
    “Not in so many words,” I say. “I got a talking to from Darlene about her.”
    “When has that ever stopped you?”
    I look at Mae again. Now she’s standing on the platform. It’s got a railing around it, but the platform’s not too big and the railing doesn’t look that sturdy.
    “Darlene made a good point about sleeping with the person whose article is gonna introduce you to bankers in Connecticut,” I admit.
    “You’re not half as dumb as you act, you know,” Raylan says.
    “I’m here, ain’t I?” I ask, grinning. “I’m plenty dumb. If I had any sense I’d have become a firefighter or a coal miner or some other safe occupation. I can pass one girl up. It ain’t like I’m hurting for pussy.”
    He stops looking at Mae and sweeps his eyes around the grandstand, grinning.
    “That’s God’s own truth,” he says. “Ain’t none of us hurting for pussy.”
    Mae’s standing next to a guy in a suit and bolo tie, showing him something on her camera. As I watch, she slips the strap from around her neck, moving the camera so he can see it better as she points to something on the back of it.
    In the arena, some teenagers are doing a cattle-roping exhibition, lassoing cows, knocking them over and tying their legs together. They’re not quite skilled enough to make it look effortless, but they’re pretty good.
    They let the cow back into the chute. The next one opens.
    Just as the steer bolts out, there’s a commotion on the platform above, arms waving.
    Something falls into the sand about thirty feet from where we’re standing, something black and a little boxy. Raylan and I both watch it for a moment, frowning. Then I realize what it is.
    It’s Mae’s camera.
    Up above, she’s got both her hands over her mouth, as the steer and the cowboys chasing him tear around the arena, not paying her or it any mind at all.
    The steer corners and then doubles back. A lasso falls into the sand behind it, and now the steer is bearing down on Mae’s camera.
    I vault over the barrier and run for it.

7
    Mae
    T his platform isn’t big enough for all the people up here, and it sways a little bit every time anyone new walks on or off. It’s unnerving, so I just try to keep my feet as I show the marketing guy from Ford the pictures I’ve been taking, removing the strap from around my neck so he can see a little better.
    “That’s a good shot,” he says, looking at a photo of a kid flying off the back of a sheep.
    “Thanks,” I say. “The trick is to get it right when they’re falling off.”
    He laughs.
    The platform sways again, and almost in slow motion, the marketing guy sways too. Then he stumbles, throwing his arms out to catch himself, but instead he knocks into me.
    My camera flies out of my hands and goes off the platform, and I think time stops as it falls. My heart collapses in on itself.
    Even through the noise of the rodeo, I swear I hear a soul-crushing crunch as it hits the ground.
    I hit the platform floor on my knees, gripping the edge, and watch the cattle chute gate swing open. A steer busts out of it and gallops around the arena, followed by two cowboys, my