wrong about Judy’s idea for a team of female bullfighters in order to put a new face on Hell. Ava won that argument when she proved she could do it.”
“Maybe. The thing is, she gave it up to follow Trace around.”
Cameron snorted. “I think you have that backwards.”
“So Judy’s got her eye set on you.” He shrugged. “Cupcake, if you want to get squashed flat, that’s your business. Don’t ask me to help you.”
“I am asking you to help me. Because I know you trained Ava out at Rory’s when Trace wouldn’t.”
He didn’t even have to think twice about this. “While I would help you any way I can, Cameron, I won’t train you to bullfight. That’s not my thing. I only helped Ava to get under Trace’s skin. We decided long ago, before your team was even a twinkle in Judy’s eye, that we didn’t train anything but riders. And we don’t train women to bullfight, which Judy knew before she ever dreamed this project up.”
“You’re the best rider around. No one knows better than you how to stay on a bull, stay on a horse.” She gave him an intense stare that hit him right in the gut. He took another swig of beer for protection. “If anyone knows what a cowboy needs from a bullfighter, it’s you, Saint.”
“Maybe. But no. Sorry, gorgeous. I’m not cut out to be an instructor.”
“You trained Ava.”
He nodded. “I did. She was a great student. But I’m not training you.”
His little redhead had quite the glare on her when she decided to crease those delicious lips into a displeased frown. He laughed because she was so darn cute, then stopped laughing abruptly when she put her lips against his.
He went absolutely still.
She kissed him, and his mouth felt like it had just reached heaven. My God, she was soft. Sweet. When that mouth was used for something other than sassing, it was a miracle surely blessed by angels.
He shut his eyes, hanging on for the ride. Didn’t dare pull her into his arms and make the most of it, because quite clearly she was sending a message, and oh God, he wanted to receive this message in all its glory.
Somehow he regained consciousness when she pulled away, her big eyes gazing into his. His brain was mush; he couldn’t have pulled two thoughts together if his life depended upon it. There was nothing like an ambush to take away a guy’s upper hand.
He wanted to say something but he was transfixed, frozen into his seat. Cameron smiled at him, not shy at all, and Saint tried not to look like he was putty in her hands, which he was, damn it.
“Good night,” she said, getting out of the booth.
What the hell had that been about?
He watched her depart Redfeather’s, his gaze glued to her beautiful fanny, the fanny he’d spent hours staring at as it bounced in a saddle. His mouth dried out, his ears rang.
She was trying to get under his skin.
It was working.
—
“What the hell was that?” Declan asked, making his way into the booth not a full minute after Cameron had departed it.
“What was what?” Saint was still trying to figure out what had just happened. His brain couldn’t stop wondering how a man who refused to give a woman what she wanted suddenly got the daylights smooched out of him.
It had been awesome.
Maybe saying no was the key to a woman’s heart.
“Cameron kissed you. I saw her as I came in.” Declan gazed closely at him. “You look shell-shocked, buddy.”
He was torn all to hell. “It was just a friendly peck.”
“It was not a friendly peck. Pecks last no more than two seconds, and usually only one. That little lady stayed on your face for a good five seconds, not that I was counting.” Declan laughed. “It’s just that when you’ve been a bullrider, your brain automatically counts. Definitely five seconds, brother. Three seconds more than friendly.”
“She wants me to train her out at Rory’s.”
“Oh.” Declan ordered a beer from Stephen, and the dinner of the night. You could order whatever you wanted from Stephen, but you’d get served what he wanted to give you. That was another one of Stephen’s quirks. Though the food could be good on a rare occasion, most times it could be barely digestible. But no one complained—everyone was just here for the companionship, anyway. “That redhead’s a firecracker, isn’t she?”
“Something like that.”
Saint could tell Declan was trying not to laugh, didn’t want to rub it in too hard, though he obviously found the situation pretty funny.
“You know you’re going to give in eventually.”
“Don’t think so.” Saint lifted his beer to his mouth, barely tasted it going down. All he could taste were soft, sweet, raspberry-colored lips.
“Oh, you will. It just depends upon how hard you plan to fight it.”
“Pretty damn hard. All of us agreed, when Judy first came to us with her dumb idea for a team of Hell’s Belles, that we, the Outlaws, do not train women.”
“Rules are made to be broken. At least from Cameron’s perspective.”
He shrugged. “She’ll have to break them elsewhere.”
“This is exactly what got us in trouble last time with the Horsemen,” Declan said, referring to their rivals across town. “Judy’s team can train at Wild Jack’s with the Horsemen, probably for just about nothing.”
“The girls will never go out there again. Even Jake the Snake stays away from Cameron now. We’re the only game in town, if Judy’s team is serious about training.”
“They’re serious. But if we won’t, they’ll find a way to make it happen.”
He heard the worry in Declan’s voice. “Look, just because Ava managed to make her way into the arena as a bullfighter doesn’t mean that’s going to become our business model. Judy needs to find something else to do with her team. That’s her problem, not ours.”
“I like it.” Declan nodded, considering Saint’s words. “You’re right. Judy’s issue can’t become ours.”
“Exactly.” Saint felt better, relaxed against the booth. They were a team, and this time they were sticking to the plan, the one they should have stuck to originally—which was no training women at the Hell’s Outlaws Training Center.
No matter how sweet the kisses.
Love stories you’ll never forget
By authors you’ll always remember
eOriginal Romance from Random House
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