12 Borrowing Trouble (2 page)

Dylan was the only
bronc and bull riding instructor left at the ranch.  Matt had left to help take care of his sister in Henrietta.  Except for Sheedy, the guy who taught roping, the other guys there were mainly ranch hands.  They took the guests out on the cattle drives and helped manage the livestock.  The bull riding adventure was the biggest moneymaker for the R & R Ranch.  Dylan’s groups were always full from word of mouth referrals.  It was so popular there was even a year’s waiting list.  If Dylan left now, it would probably end, and the ranch would take a big financial hit.

Last week
though, he had given Joel almost a year’s notice he would be leaving next Spring.  It was fair.  He figured that would give them ample time to find someone to take over.  It would also give Dylan time to make sure he was ready to return to the circuit.  Riding left handed was tricky and new to him.  More practice time on the bulls at the ranch couldn’t hurt.  When Dylan returned to the circuit again, he wanted to win like he had before he’d gotten hurt. 

But he knew that was bullshit. 

What he was doing was procrastinating because he was scared what he’d find out when he went back was that he was washed up.  He knew this would be his last chance to make a go of it.  There were too many young riders who were more talented than he was.  What came naturally to them, Dylan had to work at.  Work hard.  At thirty-two, he’d also been riding a long time.  His body had been battered and bruised more than those young men.  He was practically an old man now in the rodeo world.  The odds of him being successful this go round weren’t good.  But he was going to give it one more try. 

In the meantime though, he would save up every penny he made this next year at the ranch for a nest egg to carry him over.  That would
at least give him time to figure out what he wanted to do with himself for the rest of his life, if he found out he couldn’t ride anymore. 

Dylan
knew what he didn’t want to do for the rest of his life though.  Put up with the rich, snobby guests at the R & R ranch.  Men like the idiot he was working with at the moment.  Brandon Carter had been here two days now, had paid for every spot in the class so he would have private lessons, and he thought that made him the boss. 

Dylan was about to dissuade him of that notion.

“This is boring.  I want to ride a fucking bull,” Brandon whined, and the man’s voice scraped along Dylan’s nerve endings like rusty nails.  “That’s what I came here for, and all you’ve given me is this stupid machine.  I’m ready for some action.”

This guy thought he was a badass
when he was really just bad.  In attitude, listening skills and performance.  He needed to be taken down a few notches, or that overconfidence could get him hurt when he finally did get on the real thing.  He’d stayed on so far, but that was only because Dylan had taken it easy on him, hoping he would get the hang of it.  This guy thought he had done that after the first time he didn’t get thrown.

Dylan held his temper and huffed out a breath. 
“You’ve got to keep the bull underneath you.  Ride the buck, and control your upper body.  This is just a damned bucking machine.  If you can’t do that on the machine, how do you think you’re going to do it when you ride the real thing?”

Brandon’s
chin inched up.  “I haven’t been thrown yet,” he challenged.

Dylan was about to teach this asshole a lesson.  “You stay up this time, and I’ll put you on a bull.”  He walked back to the control box and stood behind it.  With a lifted brow and a tight smile he asked, “You ready?”

Brandon Carter nodded and threw up his free hand.  Dylan adjusted the knobs on the machine, then flicked the switch and palmed the joystick.  He shoved the lever up a little, and the bull started bucking slowly.  Dylan fought the urge to shove the joystick to the top.  Just barely.  He rolled it and the bull spun to the right.  When the bull circled, the cocky look on Brandon Carter’s face and the challenge in his eyes broke the tight rein Dylan had on his control.  He slammed the lever upward, then jammed the joystick into the right slot, before sliding it quickly to the left.  Adrenaline and satisfaction shot through Dylan to see the look on Brandon’s face as he spun in a wild circle, and his free hand dropped to grab the rigging.

To his credit,
Carter managed to hang on just fine for two left-bucking spins, but then mid-circle, Dylan switched directions.  The man’s body slid to the left.  Dylan quickly reversed and swung the bull full-circle.  He wanted to laugh at the man’s loud curse as he flew off the bull, landing hard on his right shoulder in the dirt.  Carter immediately scrambled to his feet and shot a hot glare at Dylan.  “You did that on purpose,” he grated as he walked toward Dylan holding his shoulder.

“I’m operating the machine, of course I did it on purpose.  You wanted a real bull ride,” Dylan replied with a shrug.  “I just gave you one.”

“I’m going to talk to Joel.  I paid a lot of fucking money for you to teach me how to ride bulls, and I think you don’t have a damned clue how that’s done.”

Brandon
was probably right, but he wasn’t telling him that.    “I’ve rodeoed since high school.  I know a helluva lot more than you do. Don’t think because I’ve taken it easy on you that you’re ready.  You’ve still got a long way to go,” Dylan replied.

“Joel
will find someone else to teach me, or I want my money back. I paid to ride live bulls, and you’re wasting my time.  I only have three days left.” 

Dylan fought the urge to get him in the chute and put him on the
rankest bull they had, which wasn’t rank at all because they only had Mexican practice bulls.  He wasn’t going to really hurt the guy though.  Brandon Carter’s ego wasn’t any match for two thousand pounds of angry bull, and Joel would kill him.  It was his job to save the asshole from hurting himself, then suing the ranch, even though he’d signed his life away in the liability waiver.

“You talk to Joel.  He isn’t going to do a damned thing for you.  I’m in charge of the bull riding adventure, and I’m responsible to make sure you don’t get injured.  That’s what I’m doing
—my job.”

“No, I think you’re jealous because I’m probably better than you are
.  You’re a washed up has been who can’t hang with the big dogs anymore,” the cocky bastard said loudly.  Sheedy walked out of the barn, staggered then stopped.  Dylan realized he must’ve heard what Brandon said, because he just stood there with his mouth hanging open.

Anger surged up to choke Dylan.  It took a minute for his brain to actually wrap itself around the fact the man had just said what he’d said.
  “You clear it with Joel, and I’ll ride against you.  We’ll see who’s better, asshole.”  Dylan was damned sorry there was no way in hell Joel was going to agree to it, because he would love nothing better than making this bastard eat his words.

Excitement sparked in Brandon’s brown eyes a
s he turned to stomp off toward the big house.  Sheedy walked up beside him.  “Man that guy is a tool, huh?”

“
His stupidity goes way beyond that.”

“Better you than me,” Sheedy said with a laugh.  “Glad he didn’t want to be a tie-down roper.  Guess that wasn’t exciting enough for him.”

“Well, if he keeps going the way he’s going, he’ll have more excitement that he can handle.  If the bull doesn’t stomp his ass, I’m afraid I might.”

“Don’t let him goad you into being stupid too,
man.  You have the upper hand here, keep it.  Let Joel handle it.”

Dylan nodded and started toward the big house
too, figuring he’d better talk to his boss before Brandon Carter got to him.  It was early, so Joel was probably in the gym.  Dylan thought he might be able to cut Brandon off at the pass, if he took a shortcut through the spa, instead of using the front door of the big house.  Pushing open the door of the salon, Dylan walked inside and was immediately overwhelmed by a toxic combination of perfume, hairspray and some kind of acidic smell that burned his nostrils. Probably hair color or nail polish, he thought, just managing to hold back a gag. 

With a quick nod at Sadie
, the salon manager, he held his breath and walked-ran toward the hallway that led to the spa rooms and gym.  Pushing the door open, he stopped a minute and took a deep breath, then exhaled slowly to get his mind right.  He wondered how the hell Sadie worked in there for ten to twelve hours a day.  He would probably pass out from the fumes, or spend his day in the bathroom.  Give him the smell of horseshit over that any day. 

Dylan
walked down the dimly lit hallway toward the gym door.   At the last hallway to the left before the gym door, a woman walked out of the hall and he almost bowled her over.  He grabbed her shoulders to keep her from falling, and her hands planted on his chest to steady herself.  The towel wrapped above her breasts slid down her body to pool at her feet.  Because he was a man, and couldn’t stop them, Dylan’s eyes took a quick pass to her toes.  Her heated, damp skin burned his palms.  He dropped his hands to wipe them on his jeans, and tried like hell to keep his eyes on her warm brown eyes.  It didn’t work.  His eyes took a second, slower pass over her delicious curves. His heart did a couple of really heavy thuds inside his chest; his breath came out in a low whistle. 

Her face heated as she bent to jerk up her towel and wrap it around herself again.  “Watch where you’re going,” she said angrily.

He shoved his hat back on his head and met her gorgeous brown eyes.  The curvy little brunette had an attitude to go along with her dangerous curves.  “You’re the one who barreled into me, sweet cheeks,” Dylan said with a laugh.  “I guess you’re the one who needs to watch where she’s going.”

“You weren’t watching where you were going
either, or you would’ve seen me.”  She pulled the towel tighter around her body, and tucked the end in between her full breasts.  Dylan was sorely disappointed.  He’d almost like a redo, have her go back down that hall and run into him again and again.  He wanted another look at her.

“In here?” he asked with a hoot.  “Not likely.” 

It was dark, but Dylan saw all he needed to see.  What he’d seen was definitely interesting.  Glossy dark hair piled high on top of her head, which he imagined would reach the middle of her back if it were let down, clear porcelain skin that looked like she didn’t get in the sun much, except for the cute freckles dotting across the bridge of her nose.  And even though she wasn’t tall, her legs were a mile long.  He hadn’t gotten a good look at her breasts, because she’d covered them with her forearm, but what he’d seen of them had been spectacular.  She kind of looked like Terri Rhodes, but a little taller and a little curvier. 

Just the kind of woman he liked. 

But she was obviously a guest at the ranch, which meant she was off limits.  That was too damned bad.  His eyes landed on her left hand, which was clutching the towel to her breasts and he saw a large diamond ring and wedding band. And she was married.  Probably to some rich man who was too busy making money to pay her attention. So she was out here spending his money as fast as he could make it, buying the attention she wasn’t getting at home, like most of the women who visited the spa at the ranch.

Since she was in the hall to the massage area, Dylan figured she was just finishing up a massage
with Tara.  He’d had a dose of Tara’s magic hands before himself.  Afterwards, he felt like his legs were made of jelly.  Tara’s magic evidently hadn’t worked on this woman though.  Her smooth shoulders were tense, and her plump mouth unsmiling. 

He didn’t know why, but he didn’t want to end this little conversation just yet.
  He knew why, and that he was spinning his wheels here, but he couldn’t stop himself from buying a few more minutes to figure this woman out.  “People who finish a massage with Tara are usually a lot more chilled out than you are,” Dylan commented with a laugh.

“I haven’t had one yet
,” she replied with frustration.  “I fell asleep, and she must’ve just let me nap, instead of waking me for my appointment.  I was just going to find her.”

“
I’ll go find her for you.  You shouldn’t be walking around here like that.” Dylan let his eyes take another tour to her toes, then met hers again.  “You look pretty tasty in that towel, sweet cheeks.  There are men here too, and they’re always in and out.”  He looked above her head on the wall and pointed to the sign that said so.  Terri had put up the sign after another similar incident where a naked woman decided to parade herself down the hall to the salon door and ran into Joel.  “This is a co-ed spa.  Please stay in the spa room assigned, unless you are clothed.”

The woman’s
cheeks pinkened more.  “I can read, thank you.  My clothes are in the facial room,” she replied defensively.  “Nobody is back there.”

“You just go back in the m
assage room, and I’ll find Tara,” Dylan said.  He studied her a minute, then grinned.  “Unless you want me to stand in for her?  My hands are magical too, just in a different way,” he said with a wink, flexing his fingers comically. 

He
was joking of course, but Dylan would love nothing better than to run his hands over her silky body and learn those curves of hers.  But she was a guest at the ranch.  Off limits to him, he reminded himself again.  And she was married. 

He sighed
, and wasn’t that too damned bad?