Wrecked (4 page)

Though that he wore sneakers instead of boots seemed odd to her. Very anti-cowboy, in her opinion, but what did she know? She tried not to think about cowboys or their boots since the debacle with Aaron.

Tom turned his attention to her again. “Wade Long is one of our bullfighters.”

“Like in Spain?” she asked.

Wade cocked a brow at that, but let Tom answer the question. “No, ma’am. They’re the men who distract the bulls to make sure the riders get out of the arena safely after a match-up.”

“Ah.” Feeling mean, she cast a glance at Wade and added, “So you’re basically like human shields, then.”

In spite of her verbal slap, he grinned wide and looked as if he really meant it.

“Yup. You could say that.” He let out a snort. “That’s a pretty accurate description actually.”

She hated when a well-crafted insult fell flat. But he certainly was intriguing. It seemed the more she tried to piss him off, the more he enjoyed it. As if her verbal sparring got him going.

Then again, a man who threw himself in front of charging bulls for a living probably had some issues, mentally.

“I’m sorry. You were about to say something before about your seat. Is it not acceptable?” Tom asked.

Wade, who clearly didn’t need to be here any longer, still remained. Short of asking him to leave her and Tom alone, she had no other choice but to just ignore him.

“I was wondering if there was someplace else I could be during the event.” She directed the inquiry to Tom, but noticed Wade listening as intently as if she’d talked to him.

“But the chute seats are the best we’ve got.” Tom looked distressed and baffled that she was unhappy.

His obvious concern should have made CeCe feel better about the whole situation. Usually people scurrying to keep her happy gave her great satisfaction. But really, right now all she wanted was someplace to hide until she had to give away that damn buckle and she could leave.

Someplace far away from Aaron and Jill.

“I understand. And I appreciate that. But—“

The loud ringing of Tom’s cell phone interrupted CeCe. He glanced at the read out and cringed. “I’m so sorry but I have to take this. Wait right here and we’ll figure this out about your seat.”

“Fine.” She nodded and watched as he moved farther down the hall to take the call.

Unfortunately, Wade didn’t make a move to leave. He remained right where he was, looking amused.

She scowled at his mere presence. “I thought you had somewhere to be.”

“I do. I’ll get there. Why? You worried about me?” He grinned.

“No.” She said it with conviction so there’d be no doubt in his mind. All that seemed to do was amuse him further.

“So, CeCe Cole of Cole Shock Absorbers. I’ll be damned.”

Could it be that
finally
he was impressed with her? Maybe now he’d show her some respect. Although from what little she knew of him from their short association, probably not.

She crossed her arms. “Yes. And? That surprises you?”

He bobbed his head. “A little bit. Yeah. But it also explains a whole hell of a lot. On the other hand, it raises a few more questions too.”

“Well, sadly for you, you’ll have to live with those questions. It looks like Tom’s done with his call so if you’ll excuse me, Mr. Long.”

He grinned even as she brushed him off. “Ain’t nobody calls me Mr. Long. You can feel free to call me Wade.”

“I seriously doubt I’ll have occasion to call you anything, but if in future I do I’ll keep that in mind.” She spun on one high heel and moved to meet Tom as he walked toward her.

She heard Wade snicker behind her and her blood pressure rose.

Damn, stupid, obnoxious man.

How did he have the uncanny ability to get to her so easily?

The bigger question was, why did she let him?

That was a question she could ponder later, perhaps as she watched the crazy man throw himself in the path of a charging bull.

Right now, she had to figure out where she was going to sit so she wouldn’t have to see Aaron and Jill. If not, she might be inspired to throw one or both of them in front of a bull herself.

CHAPTER 4

“Are you sure you don’t want to sit closer?” Tom Parsons looked concerned, which had become a familiar expression for him it seemed, ever since CeCe had told him she didn’t like the VIP seat he’d put her in.

“I’m sure. This is fine. Thank you.”

He hesitated again. “If you change your mind—”

“I promise I’ll let you know.”

Finally, Tom nodded. “All right. I need to check on some things but I’ll be back to look in on you later.”

“Okay.” Jeez. If her ex-husband had been half as attentive as the corporate executive kissing her ass, she might still be married.

Then again, Tom Parsons had the association’s coffers to worry about. He was probably hoping she’d change her mind about sponsorship for next year.

Who knew? Maybe she would change her mind. It would piss off John to no end and that was worth any amount of money.

Pissing off the ex—priceless.

CeCe’s cell phone rang. One glance at the display had her rolling her eyes.

It was John.

Speak of the devil.

Had she somehow cursed herself by just thinking his name?

She touched the screen to answer. “Yes, John.”

“Where are you?” he asked.

He had a lot of nerve. He’d lost the right to ask her that question in the divorce, right along with a considerable part of his fortune. That’s the chance he took when he decided to partake of pleasures with other women during their marriage.

She decided she wasn’t going to make this call any easier for him. “Why? Where are you?”

“Dammit, woman. Can’t you just answer a simple question?” The frustration was clear in his voice.

Of course she could answer his question, but what fun was there in that? “You answer me first and then I’ll answer you.”

“Fine. I’m at the arena.”

That bastard was trying to steal her spotlight. Well, he had wasted his time. Come hell or high water—or bull manure, as the case may be—she was doing the buckle presentation. Not him.

CeCe had been intent on playing with him for longer, but that was not to be. The announcer’s amplified voice bounced off the walls even as loud music began to pound from the sound system. Most likely John would be able to hear she was also at the arena, if he hadn’t figured that out already.

She sighed and gave in to the fact her game was over. “I’m at the arena too.”

“Where are you? I’m in the VIP section and I don’t see you.”

“That’s because Tom Parsons got me a better seat.” Not quite the truth, but CeCe figured John didn’t need to know any more than that.

“Oh.”

She didn’t have long to enjoy his envy over her supposedly
better
seats before John continued, “Are you going to present the buckle or do you want me to just do it?”

Ah ha. Exactly as she’d suspected. He wanted to be the one to stand in the middle of the arena amid spotlights and cheers.

This presentation was still officially hers to do and she intended to do it. “Yes, I’m going to present the buckle. Alone. So don’t get any ideas.”

“I’m not. I just wanted to make sure. You do have a habit of leaving the association in a lurch, you know. Can’t blame them for wanting to have me here as back up.”

Rotten bastard. Throwing in her face the fact she’d pulled next year’s sponsorship. She couldn’t argue it was true but John had plenty of faults of his own for her to mention.

“And you have a habit of cheating so what’s your point?” It wasn’t the best insult she’d ever come up with, but she didn’t have much time to think and the noise level in there was nearly deafening. She functioned better in quiet. “Listen, John, do us both a favor and stay away from me today. Enjoy the show and your VIP seats. Oh and make sure you say hello to my
former
marketing manager Jill for me.”

She hung up before she could second guess that last comment about Jill.

That bruise was still fresh. It would take a while for CeCe to stop feeling the twinge of knowing Aaron had chosen Jill over her.

Stupid, fickle bull rider. Men nowadays really had no clue.

The action on the arena floor drew her attention away from her sorrows. She wasn’t all that knowledgeable or interested in this sport, but she was here so she might as well watch and try to make the best of it.

The lights dimmed and CeCe braced herself for what she knew was to come. She might not be a professional fan such as her husband, make that ex-husband, but it had only taken her one event to know that the opening ceremony was overly loud and explosive—literally.

The producers in charge of the association’s events certainly loved their pyrotechnics. They used enough explosions to fill the arena with smoke and even flames. CeCe wouldn’t be surprised if the bright flashes and deafening bangs were enough to induce seizures.

Over the top. That described these events in a nutshell.

Modern day bull riding had become a commercial business. And the professional bull riding organization was a marketing machine. She knew personally how much money it took to run these events that were becoming more of a show than a competition.

The announcer began introducing the riders. CeCe staunchly tried to not listen, to ignore Aaron’s introduction, but that was impossible. As the announcer’s words reverberated off the walls of the arena, they hit her doubly hard.

There were a lot of riders and even reading off the names at a fast clip it took a while to get through them all. Then they moved to the other arena personnel.

CeCe had been to all three events that weekend in Georgia, but she had to admit she hadn’t paid all that much attention to anything except Aaron. Besides, Jill was there distracting her as well.

Today, CeCe was alone and becoming a little bored.

“Bullfighter Wade Long—”

With nothing else to pay attention to but the action down on the arena floor, CeCe couldn’t help but notice when the man she kept inexplicably bumping into was introduced.

At the sound of his name on the loudspeaker, Wade came trotting into the arena waving to the crowd along the way.

Given the sideshow atmosphere, she was surprised an older man like Wade would willingly be a part of it.

Guys like Aaron, flighty and young, fit right in here. But Wade? Not so much. Not that she knew much more about the cowboy than what she’d observed during their couple of encounters.

She knew that he chewed tobacco, just like she remembered her grandfather doing when she was little. She knew he drove a ridiculously huge, good ol’ boy truck and that he had the attitude to match.

He ran around the edge of the arena wearing long shorts, obnoxiously bright sneakers and an oversized shirt with none other than the Cole Shock Absorbers’ name and logo emblazoned across the front and back.

That mind-boggling ensemble was topped off by a cowboy hat. In comparison to the basketball shorts and crazy sneakers, the hat looked as out of place on his head as the man himself looked in the arena amid the dozens of others clad in jeans and leather.

CeCe pushed her fashion critique of the bullfighters aside as the actual bull riding began.

Compared to the lengthy opening, which included a prayer, a presentation of the flag and the national anthem, the competition itself moved fast.

That was the one good thing about bull riding. If nothing else, it didn’t drag on. So much better than the golf tournaments John used to watch.

She’d endured more than enough hours of watching men chase a tiny white ball amid hushed whispers and golf claps. Or worse, hours of watching cars drive in a circle during those races John loved so much.

In contrast, watching bull riding was a pleasure.

The first rider and bull charged into the arena before the scent of the smoke from the opening had cleared.

According to the announcer, the bull was Captain Hook, but CeCe missed the name of the bull rider. Not that she cared all that much. The only rider she knew from among the three dozen plus was Aaron anyway. She could see it wasn’t him riding.