His For One Night. Sarah M. Anderson

he wasn’t just a chip on his shoulder with a good right hook.

      For too long, people had assumed that Flash only won the All-Stars because the Lawrence family owned the circuit, and he understood now that most of his fights had been about proving he wasn’t just a Lawrence, but that when it came to the rodeo, he was one of the best.

      Getting suspended from the rodeo after that last fight—along with forfeiting his winnings up to that point—had been a blessing, although it sure hadn’t felt like it at the time, especially not with the busted jaw Flash had gotten brawling. But it’d forced him to come to grips with his temper and grow the hell up. Plus, it’d shown everyone the All-Stars wasn’t just a family business coddling the baby of the family. The rodeo family understood now that Flash had earned his place in the rankings.

      This was his year and, for once, he wasn’t going to shoot himself in his own foot. That included this thing between him and Brooke.

      He just wanted...well, he wanted another night with her, to see if there was still that same electric current between them.

      Best case, they’d make an effort to meet up on the road a few times a year, whenever his rodeo was in town during her concerts. He wouldn’t say no to something like that. Not with her. He could focus on winning it all and she could focus on her career, and they’d get the chance to enjoy themselves during their downtime, like they had in Texas.

      Then she announced the name of her first new song. “One-Night Stand.”

      The tips of Flash’s ears went hot. That wasn’t about him, right?

      Couldn’t be. It was the height of egotism to think that one night with him had left Brooke with anything other than a fond memory.

      “Everyone should have one good night stand, don’t you think?” Brooke went on, and the crowd chuckled approvingly. Someone to his left wolf whistled. Flash didn’t see who, but he’d like to bust whoever it was in the jaw.

      But the moment that thought crossed his mind, Flash clamped down on it. He was not going to lose his temper here. People were allowed to be jerks. He wasn’t responsible for teaching them the errors of their ways when they crossed the line. Throwing a punch to defend Brooke’s honor was something the old Flash would’ve done. The new-and-hopefully-improved Flash settled for glaring in the direction of the whistler.

      Besides, causing a scene didn’t serve his goals. He wanted to get reacquainted with Brooke Bonner. He needed to find out if there was something worth chasing between them or if he just needed to man up and move on.

      If he got lucky, then he’d get lucky. If not, well, he still had to win it all.

      The All-Around All-Stars Rodeo was in Nashville this weekend and he’d been hoping to find a way to run into her. When she’d posted on social media she’d be at the Bluebird tonight, he’d driven like a bat out of hell to get to Tennessee five days early just to see her.

      At the bare minimum, he needed to make things right between them. Starting a brawl less than two minutes into her set would pretty much guarantee he’d never get another shot. So he kept a lid on his temper and took another drink of his soda.

      When the crowd settled down, Brooke leaned in close to the microphone and said, “I’m so glad to see so many people agree—it’s my favorite piece of furniture, too!”

      Flash let out a slow breath, grinning in spite of his nerves. He’d loved her snarky sense of humor last year, too. She hadn’t fawned over him and he had done his best not to fawn over her. There’d been an...understanding between them, almost. And a woman with a sense of humor was surprisingly erotic.

      Thank goodness that a year of superstardom hadn’t changed that about her.

      Then Brooke began to sing as she played her guitar, and something in Flash’s chest let go as the sound of her voice washed over him. By God, he’d missed the hell out of her. She might not remember him—although, given how her eyes had widened slightly when they’d made eye contact, he thought maybe she did. And she might not want to see him again. But for a little while, he could lose himself in her world.

      Until he realized what she was singing.

      “It’s just a one-night stand,

      No tomorrow, no plans.”

      Well, damn. Yeah, she remembered him. But it wasn’t a good thing. Especially not when she got to the chorus.

      “You weren’t worth the fun.

      My one-night stand.”

      And the hell of it was, it was a great song. She had the audience eating out of the palm of her hand.

      “Don’t want to hear your excuses,

      I don’t care about your plans.

      Not waiting any longer.

      Screw your demands.

      It’s time I made my one-night stand.”

      Chills raced down his back as she held the last note, strong and powerful. He hadn’t even had the chance to say hello and she was already shutting him down.

      When the song ended, she did not look at him. She didn’t sneak a peek out of the corner of her eye, didn’t pivot in her chair, nothing. If she’d recognized him, it was clear she was ignoring him. “Whoo, y’all like that? That’s just the beginning—I have a whole album of sass coming your way!”

      Anger—an old, familiar feeling—began to push through his veins, but Flash refused to let it win. It was entirely possible that Brooke Bonner had forgotten all about him after her whirlwind breakout year. There was also a distinct possibility that, if she did remember him, she didn’t hold him in any particularly high esteem.

      He should’ve anticipated the song, though. He should’ve anticipated her anger. Anger was his second language. It came as naturally to him as breathing. But he hadn’t seen this attack coming.

      Okay, yeah, there’d been a superhot one-night stand. They’d hooked up in her dressing room before the show, which had made her late to go on because leather miniskirts weren’t easy to work around. And it’d been good.

      God, he still went hard just thinking about taking her against the wall in that tiny room, staring into her eyes as they both fought not to make a single sound. So damn good. And she had to have agreed, right? Because he’d hung around after the show, and when she’d seen him waiting for her, her entire face had lit up and she’d crooked her finger at him. They’d spent the rest of the night wrapped around each other in her hotel suite, having hot sex and ordering room service and, in between the seductions, making each other laugh.

      They’d parted friends the next morning. He’d made damn sure to leave her with a smile on her face. He knew he hadn’t stopped grinning for days. Weeks, even.

      So how had they gotten from that to this?

      “My next song—now just wait for it,” she all but purred into the mike, “is called ‘How Many Licks’ because that was always the question, right?” The crowd hooted. “How many licks to get to the center of the sucker?”

      “Three!” some jackass yelled.

      “As many licks as it takes,” a different ass yelled. Brooke wagged a scolding finger at him.

      Flash had to close his eyes and focus on his breathing. Behind his eyelids, the world was red. They weren’t disrespecting her. She’d chosen that title to get that exact reaction. She knew what she was doing and it wasn’t his job to defend her from every slight. He’d already tried that once and had the criminal record—and nemesis—to prove it. He’d busted Tex McGraw up pretty damn good because the man had dared to put Brooke’s name in his mouth.

      Obviously, Flash understood why Tex hated him with a white-hot fury—Flash had knocked the man out of the All-Stars with a solid right hook. But Tex hadn’t let up any with his online attacks since then, and he sure as hell