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

a chance to set her son straight because John
was standing next to her and she had a point to make with him.
    “I told you I could ride.” She poked
her finger at John's shoulder. “Bret Bodner's going
to be one happy fellow and there wasn't a bikini in sight.”
    The undercover cop scratched his
head and studied her. “I guess you didn't need that prayer after all.” He
stared at the score board. “You're in first place with a score of seventy-two.”
He smiled proudly at her.
    Cassidy squealed. Then she jumped
up and down. She never did things like that but this was fun. She looked at her
son. His eyes shifted around the area followed by an exaggerated roll that
looked like his pupils had taken a vacation in his eyebrows.
    Cassidy stopped jumping.
    “At least you didn't break your
coccyx,” Kevin offered dryly.
    Okay, one terrific ride wasn't
going to improve their relationship drastically. But maybe it was a start and
Cassidy was going to keep trying. She planned to watch a few more episodes of
Firefly tonight and maybe some Battlestar . But until
then, she put her arms out. “Give your mother a hug,” she insisted, “for not
breaking her butt.”
    Kevin hesitated.
    “Yeah,” John encouraged. “Hug your
mother, boy.”
    “You need to get your left arm in
the air higher,” Kevin told her as Cassidy stepped forward and wrapped her arms
around him. Her son didn't hug her back but at least he was letting her hug
him. “You're going to lose points because you almost touched the bull.” Then he
looked up at the score board. “Seventy-two is pretty bad,” he scolded. “Crosshairs
got more points than you did.” He laughed.
    “I'll work on my arm tomorrow,”
Cassidy replied. She smiled again. Honestly, she didn't care her bull was
better than her. “It was still a damn good ride,” she told her son. “Wasn't it?”
Why oh why, did she need the validation?
    “I suppose so,” Kevin reluctantly
agreed, then he shrugged.
    Well, at least he didn't mention
anything about mortification.
    One of the bull fighters, also
known as a rodeo clown passed her bull rope over the fence. “Hey, little lady,”
Mike Shannon purred which was completely inappropriate for eight-thirty in the
morning. “You forgot something. If you're going to ride you've got to pick your
rope up.” He winked at her.
    This was distressing because the
man was dressed as a clown. John seemed to feel the same way. Cassidy could
feel the hairs on his arm, which were rubbing against her, stand on end.
    “Thanks,” Cassidy replied as she
took a step away from John. She was embarrassed and it had nothing to do with
Kevin. The sleazy bull fighter was right, no
self-respecting bull rider left their rope in the dirt in the middle of the
ring. “I won't forget it next time.”
    “Remember,” Mike Shannon warned. “This
is a really tough sport. If any of you girls want to compete in the men's
division you've got to carry your own rope and grow yourself some balls.” He
grabbed his polka dotted covered crotch and tugged.
    “Dear Lord,” John moaned. “Could
you not do that around the lady?”
    Shannon suggested as he backed away from the fence, “You should grow yourself a pair
too preacher man.”
    John did nothing. Back in L.A., if his manhood had
been insulted he would have been over that fence and had the clown on the
ground before Mike Shannon figured out his red nose was facing the ceiling.
Cassidy glanced at John again. He still did nothing.
    Even though his lack of a reaction
was immensely attractive, because she'd spent many years dealing with the
fallout from his anger, she wasn't going to let that get her all flustered
around the man. She turned away and started walking toward the locker room. Within
two steps John was at her side.
    “Don't listen to your son, it was a
good ride,” he told Cassidy, his cowboy boots keeping in step with hers. This
man who never said anything supportive or encouraging had actually