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piece.
    “What the heck were you thinking getting hung up in the short round on the first night? I taught you better’n that, didn’t I? Maybe pick a bull you know you can ride to make the points to move forward, but don’t risk getting blown out of the competition by getting injured. Every ride doesn’t have to be a brand new Mt. Everest.”
    “Yeah, Dad, you did, but sometimes the bull can’t find a rhythm and you’re just hanging on for the ride. And besides, I don’t want to bore the fans by picking an easy bull over and over.”
    “Like you’re ever going to pick an easy one.”
    “I like the rush.”
    “You weren’t using a Brazilian rope, were you?”
    “No, Dad, I wasn’t, but their rope is just as good as ours, just different—in fact, it gives you a little edge when you pull it from the other direction. Something to lean your hand against on the inside.”
    “You gotta wrap up careful if you don’t want the bull to tear your arm off at the shoulder,” Davis interrupted him. “You don’t want to end up with a bum rotator cuff.” He circled his own shoulder and stretched his neck.
    “It all worked out. I got loose and scored the buckle,” Cody said.
    “Yeah, don’t kid a kidder. It was Johnny got you loose. I got eyes and I saw it all on the TV.”
    “It was a good ride,” Travis put in. “I thought the judges shortchanged you a might though. That was a 90-point ride at least. They must have been leaving room for some other cowboy to score high. Trying to be fair to the rest of the pack and not make it look like you walk away with every round.”
    “I didn’t win the long round,” Cody pointed out. “But that bull sure was a rank one. Up and down, and side to side. He was all over the place. I think he cleared the fence on the first jump.”
    “He did on the last one when he almost stomped you into dust,” Travis said. “But you made up for it on Sunday, that ride was textbook. Break at the hips, keep the free arm up, and your outside leg raking—”
    “Keep it loose. That bull on Saturday knew how to mix it up and not fall into a predictable pattern. But you rode better on Sunday,” Davis said. “No one else came close to your score.”
    “Aw, come on, Dad. There were other good riders there that night. Dub gave me a run for my money.”
    “He was good, not the best.”
    While Cody and his father got serious analyzing his ride, RJ turned to Johnny, and as always the quiet Aussie accent took him by surprise. “You did a bonza job out there.”
    “Thanks.” It was nice to get that simple commendation. Cody was a flashy rider and as a mere a bullfighter Johnny was used to not having much notice taken of his performance.
    Travis immediately horned in on the new conversation. “See you’re still all in one piece.”
    “Yeah, nothing fell off.” Johnny made a muscle and grinned.
    “Don’t break your neck over Cody, Johnny. He can take a hard fall. We love you too, and we don’t want to see you hurt,” Val said as she passed a dish to him.
    “Oh, don’t worry about me.” Johnny flashed her a grateful smile. “Too much left to do in life.”
    She smiled back, but her eyes seemed oddly troubled. When Johnny raised his brows, she just shook her head and focused on the shiny new buckle Cody was showing off. Basking in being the center of attention like always.

    A FTER dinner, RJ and Travis disappeared promptly, sticking Cody and Johnny with the dishes. Davis rested his hand on Val’s back and smiled down at her as they left the kitchen to watch TV in the living room.
    Cody actually didn’t grumble too much. Maybe he was glad to be home too, even if it meant washing up.
    “Mom’s cooking is worth the cleanup,” he stated, but he looked at Johnny’s ass rather than into his eyes.
    “Shut up and dry so we can get out of here,” Johnny ordered. The casual brushes as Cody passed behind him at the sink were making him feel like the big top at the circus, if the tent in