Ride: A Bad Boy Romance Read Free Page B

a perfect sky blue.
    She walks closer with those languid, sultry movements, and I realize something.
    I know her .
    I can’t place her right away, but I’m total certain that I do . I start flipping back through the memories of all the women I’ve been with.
    It’s a lot, but this girl is memorable . I ought to be able to place her.
    I can already tell it’s gonna vex me.
    “You’re Wayne and Darlene Nelson?” the bearded man asks.
    “We sure are,” Wayne says, getting out of the booth and shaking his hand.
    Not a rodeo type, I think, looking at her again.
    Where have I even been that I’d meet a girl like her?
    Then Wayne clears his throat, and I realize they’re all staring at me.
    I rise from the booth and Bruce shakes my hand.
    “Jackson Cody,” I say. I force myself to look at him and not the girl.
    “Bruce McMurtry,” he says. “I’m a reporter for Sports Weekly. This is our photographer.”
    “Mae Guthrie,” the girl says. She holds out her hand and keeps her spine perfectly straight, like she’s trying to look taller than she is.
    The second I hear her voice, I know exactly who she is.
    I can’t help but grin.
    “Miss Guthrie,” I say, taking her hand in mine. “Welcome to the Pioneer Days Rodeo. I’m Jackson.”
    She’s got a firm handshake and a steely, don’t-take-no-shit look in her eyes.
    “Thank you,” she says, her voice stiff and a little formal. “But it’s just Mae.”
    “Sure thing,” I say. I hold onto her hand for another moment before I let it go.
    I’d bet fifty bucks she remembers me . She’s got her hackles up the way women do when they unexpectedly run into someone they’re embarrassed about, like she’s praying that I don’t tell our entire breakfast table the story of our little tryst.
    It’s been years. That’s why it took me a minute to remember who she was, but as soon as she spoke up I remembered that voice saying Come on, Jackson right into my ear in the bed of my pickup truck.
    Hell, I still think about that night sometimes, and I’ve got plenty of other nights to choose from.
    “Take a load off and sit down,” Wayne says, and the three of us scoot in around the big circular booth.
    Mae flicks her eyes nervously at the seat next to Wayne, but Bruce is already lowering himself into it with a sigh, like he’s got bad knees, so I pat the cushion next to me.
    “Come on, I don’t bite,” I say. “Not unless you ask real nice.”
    Darlene shoots me a glare before turning up the wattage on her smile.
    “Sookie’s has got the best flapjacks this side of Oklahoma City,” she says brightly. “You two must be hungry after that long flight. How far is it from New York City?”
    “It’s about four hours,” Bruce says. “We managed to get a direct flight, so it wasn’t too bad.”
    They keep chatting, so I turn my head and look at Mae, who’s studying the menu like there’s gonna be a quiz.
    “Where you from, Miss Guthrie?” I ask.
    “Mae,” she says, not taking her eyes off the menu.
    “Well then, where you from, Mae ?” I ask.
    “I live in Brooklyn,” she says, not exactly answering my question.
    “You like New York City?” I ask, leaning back in the booth and letting my eyes run down her body for just a moment.
    “I do sometimes,” she says, her eyes still on the menu. “Other times it’s cold, crowded, and the people are rude.”
    “Sounds like it’s the second time right now,” I say.
    “You’re not wrong,” she says, and then sighs, leaning her head on her hand on the table. “Do you know the difference between a flapjack and a pancake?”
    “I don’t think there is one, and I’m nearly an expert on diners,” I say.
    “Nearly,” she says, and her blue eyes get a glimmer to them. “What, are you one credit shy of your degree?”
    “I never was much for school,” I say.
    “Not even if the class is on bacon?” she asks.
    I laugh.
    “I damn near failed out of kindergarten,” I say. “That’s nothing but ABC’s