The Bull Rider Wears Pink by Jeanine McAdam Read Free Book Online

eyes collided. His flared while she tried to stop hers from doing
the same. But who could control their eyes?
    “And the rains fall soft upon your
fields,” he continued. And together they finished the blessing, “Until we meet
again may God hold you in the palm of his hand.”
    Quoting that particular poem
unnerved Cassidy. Passion and fear were pulsating through her veins. She turned
away from John quickly. If she couldn’t control fear she’d try to get a handle
on passion. She put her boot on the gate to climb up the rail.
    But John stopped her.
    “I've got to—” she started. She tipped
her head toward the bull.
    John took her helmet out of her
hands.
    “I need that—” she started again.
    With his eyes still flaming in a
way that made her extremely uncomfortable he put it on her head. Then he pushed
her hair out of the way. He tightened the strap and buckled the chin piece. “Be
safe,” he whispered. He did not release her of his gaze. She'd always loved the
way his dark lashes lined the oval shape. Similar to eye liner but she knew
John didn't wear any.
    As she began to lose herself in the
depths of John Risk something else grabbed her attention. Thankfully the damn
chin strap was choking her. “It's too tight,” she gasped. She lifted her head
and coughed. Then, she coughed again. Yes, she was overreacting but she needed
something to get her mind off this man.
    John tried to help.
    She swatted at his hands. Now that
she had come to her senses she knew all that eye gazing was probably bad luck
too. Along with the coccyx conversation, Cassidy decided she was cursed. She
pulled off her gloves and reached in her pocket. Rubbing the gold piece
restored some semblance of calm for her.
    Then Crosshair kicked at the chute
and the few people in the stands were yelling for the next rider. Maggie had
been bucked off after seven seconds. So close, a real bummer.
    “She's gonna need a prayer preacher man,” Herbert Price told John looking like he hadn't
gone to bed last night with bristle on his chin and the two teeth in his mouth
covered in yellow stuff. “Only one lady has stayed on the beast this morning
and she scored sixty-seven.” He spit in the hay. “We need divine intervention
to make this rodeo right.”
    Cassidy turned to Herbert. She had
to say something to remind everyone skill had a lot to do with it too. “I
remember someone telling me once that success has nothing to do with the hand
of God, it's all hard work.” She eyed John. At the time John had been grilling
her about their undercover back story, even spending a couple of hours figuring
out their nonexistent wedding day. Yes, they planned the cake, band, and their
first dance for an event that never happened. “I'm prepared because I've
trained,” she told Herbert pushing the thought of never slow dancing to Jon Bon
Jovi's Make a Memory with John Risk out of her mind. It could have been
a lovely day.
    “I think a prayer is a good idea,”
John agreed not even acknowledging Cassidy's words. He reached for Herbert and
Kevin's hands, most of the other's had dispersed once they realized the wreck
story was over. “Kevin,” he directed, “hold my hand.”
    Cassidy's son jumped. “What the frack ?” he asked. He told Cassidy earlier it was a Battlestar Galactic curse. He walked around to the other
side of the chute. “I don't hold hands with guys.”
    Cassidy shook her head when John
reached for her. “It's okay,” she told him, “I don't need a prayer.” And, if
she was being honest with herself, she also knew deep inside she wasn’t worthy.
It had a lot to do with the guilt she felt about leaving Kevin with her
brothers. Plus, John was so far from having any connection with “a power above”
Cassidy was scared his words could have the opposite effect. She'd end up in
the hospital.
    Whispering out of the side of her
mouth, she confronted the rodeo preacher. “Didn’t my son just tell you to go
away?”
    He smiled. It was that