The Cowboy Next Door. Marin Thomas

to listen.

      Shannon laughed. “You’re sore because fans are finding out you’re not the superstar you claim to be.”

      The feuding couples’ audience showed no signs of intervening. Pretty soon the rodeo officials and cameramen would notice the confrontation playing out behind the chutes and broadcast the lovers’ spat on the JumboTron.

      “Shannon.” Johnny stepped from the shadows and touched a finger to the brim of his black cattleman’s Stetson.

      She flashed him a grateful smile.

      “Well, if it ain’t the Man in Black.” Rodriguez snickered.

      Johnny’s hackles rose. What the hell had his mother been thinking when she’d named him and his brothers after country-and-western singers? It had been bad enough that they’d all been fathered by different men. From the day Johnny entered kindergarten, he’d been teased—not that his mother had cared.

      When his biological father, Charlie Smith, had split after Johnny’s birth, Aimee Cash had become an absentee mom, gallivanting across the Southwest, searching for the next Mr. Right. She hadn’t been there when Johnny had come home from school with his first black eye—Grandma Ada had hugged him and insisted there was room in the world for two Johnny Cashes. Eventually he might have learned to turn the other cheek, but every year or two, another brother had been born and saddled with a moniker that needed defending until he grew old enough to fight his own battles. And Johnny had made his fair share of trips to the principal’s office during his school career.

      “Back off, Rodriguez.” He leveled a sober stare at the cowboy.

      “This is bullshit.” Rodriguez threw his gear bag over his shoulder and stomped off. The onlookers dispersed.

      “You okay?” he asked Shannon.

      “Yeah. C.J.’s just frustrated with his riding, that’s all.” She rolled a clump of dirt beneath her boot.

      Johnny noticed she wore Dynasty Boots. He glanced at her gear bag—that, too, sported the Dynasty Boots logo. The last he’d heard, Wrangler Jeans was promoting Shannon and Rodriguez’s cross-country tour, highlighting women’s bull riding. He motioned to the boot stitched on her shirt. “I thought Wrangler sponsored you.”

      “They did.” She watched the rodeo helpers load a bull into a nearby chute. “Dynasty Boots offered me and C.J. a better deal and bought out our contract with Wrangler.”

      “What kind of better deal?”

      “If C.J. and I continue to compete against each other and keep up our sham of a romance—fans love that we’re a couple—” she said, rolling her eyes “—we—”

      “You’re not a couple?”

      “Not anymore.” She shrugged. “Anyway, whoever has the most wins after the Tucson rodeo in January earns a fifty-thousand-dollar bonus.”

      Johnny whistled between his teeth. “Where does the score stand between you two?”

      “Dead even.”

      “No kidding?”

      “Did you think because C.J.’s a man he’d be ahead of me in the competition?”

      “No...I...” Johnny shrugged. In truth, he believed bull riding was best left to cowboys, but if there was ever a cowgirl who could go the distance with the men, Shannon Douglas was that girl.

      “If I want to win the title of Cowgirl of the Year, I need to beat C.J.” She shifted her weight from one foot to the other, clearly agitated. The hotshot cowboy had rattled her.

      “You sure you’re okay?” His gaze roamed over her body.

      “Why are you looking at me like that?”

      “Rodriguez must be blind.”

      Her cheeks flushed pink. Even though Shannon was a tomboy, the subtle signs of a pretty woman were evident. Her turbulent green eyes, fringed with thick black lashes, glowed with a vibrant, determined spirit. Then there was her mouth, plump lips that begged a man to... Startled by his train of thought, he cleared his throat. What the heck was he doing—cataloging his sister’s friend’s body parts? At least he’d stopped before he’d checked out her—

      “I got to the rodeo late. Did you ride this afternoon?” she asked.

      “Sandpiper tossed me on my keister.”

      “Did any of your brothers compete?”

      “The rest of the gang stayed behind to work on the bunkhouse.”

      “I heard Dixie threw all of you out of the farmhouse after she and Gavin married.”

      “You heard right.” He nodded at C.J. “Was that your normal warm-up routine?”

      “Hardly.”

      “Ladies and gentlemen, we’re about to kick off the men’s bull riding event, but first, we have a special treat for you.” Applause and whistles filled the arena. When the noise died down, the announcer continued. “Shannon Douglas is about to show us that cowgirls are as tough as cowboys when it comes to bull riding!”

      The crowd noise was deafening. Johnny had no idea Shannon had become so popular on the circuit. “You sure you’re okay?” She shot him a dark look, so he said, “Good luck,” and moved aside. He didn’t stray far—in case Rodriguez got it in his head to pick another fight with her. After she put on her Kevlar vest, protective face mask and riding glove, she climbed the chute rails while the announcer finished his spiel.

      “Shannon Douglas hails from the Triple D Ranch near Stagecoach. She’s been competing in roughstock events since high school and you won’t find a tougher cowgirl in the whole state of Arizona!” The JumboTron displayed a close-up of her as she waved to the fans. “This cowgirl’s about to tangle with Boomerang, a veteran bull known for his tight spins.”

      Shannon stretched a leg over the bull and settled onto his back. She wrapped then rewrapped the rope around her gloved hand and Johnny worried that she was thinking about her quarrel with Rodriguez.

      He spotted her partner inching toward the chute and stepped into the man’s path. He wasn’t letting the rodeo playboy taunt Shannon. Only after the gate opened and Boomerang sprang free, did Johnny turn to the action inside the arena.

      Shannon hung on through three spins. As the seconds ticked off the clock, the bullfighters moved into position, ready to help if needed.

      Six...seven...

      The buzzer sounded and Shannon waited for an opening to dismount. Boomerang chose for her. The bull kicked out at the same time he twisted his back end and she catapulted through the air. She hit the ground and skidded several feet across the dirt. His heart stalled when Boomerang turned on Shannon as she struggled to stand.

      Head down, the bull charged and a collective gasp rippled through the stands. The bullfighters made a valiant attempt to intervene, but the beast was fixated on his rider.

      Move, Shannon, move!

      She must have felt the ground shake, because she rolled sideways in the nick of time and the bull’s horns missed her by inches. Scrambling to her feet, she stumbled toward the rails as the rodeo helpers guided Boomerang to the bull pen.

      When Shannon’s boot hit the bottom rung, Johnny held out his hand and her green eyes flashed with relief. Adrenaline pumped through his blood and he yanked her too hard over the rails, her momentum carrying him backward. They tumbled to the ground in a tangle of arms and legs, Shannon sprawled on top of him. Damned if he couldn’t feel the soft mounds of her breasts through her Kevlar vest. His arms tightened around her and the first thought that popped into his head was how good she felt pressed against him.

      “There you have it, folks!” the announcer bellowed. “Shannon Douglas has bested Boomerang!”

      The announcer’s voice startled