Beck wondered if that was just Sky’s habit being at an event, if that was because the injury made the gym hard, or because Sky wanted to look like he was here to ride, even if he wasn’t. Beck decided to watch and see.
The High Roller was amazing. The view was the best he’d seen in Vegas, and the open bar made the half-hour ride that much more enjoyable. He and Sky joked and took pictures and selfies. Of course there were fans, and Sky shook some hands and smiled for a couple of pictures, but mostly Beck tried to keep people at bay, either ignoring them completely or outright getting between them and his husband.
They wore their wedding rings in public, they always had, and somehow nobody ever said one word about it. They didn’t ask questions He wondered about that but was grateful for it too. He supposed you didn’t mess with a two-time champion. Sky had earned his place in the league.
Now they were in the arena with the league and their families, and it was still like being dropped in the center of a whole new universe.
Everyone knew Sky, was congratulating him on his retirement, on surviving, hell, on living. Sky was slapped on the back so much, he had no doubt there would be bruises when that bright green sponsor shirt came off tonight.
Could be hot.
He hung back a few steps, letting Sky have his moment. He got a few nods, one or two guys shook his hand, and almost all the wives he knew from years past seemed happy to see him. Some of them even had little ones he’d never met before.
It was every bit as awkward as it had always been for him. He wouldn’t tell Sky that, never had, he just put on his game-face smile like always and made sure everyone knew he was proud to be there.
Sky settled right into his role as senior statesman, but every now and again Beck got a look—one that screamed how he was getting laid tonight.
That look made it all worth it. This was how he wanted his man to be, standing as tall as a bull rider could and as cocksure as anyone riding tonight.
“He’s looking good.”
“Hey, Parker.” He took Parker’s hand and pulled the kid into a bro-hug. “He is. He looks great.”
“He does. That rocks.” Parker beamed at him, eyes twinkling. “You cool? You need anything?”
“No, I’m good. Did you talk to him? He’s got your vest tonight. Cool?”
“Perfect. Brand is going to pull my rope. I need to introduce y’all when I get a chance.” There was something about Parker—an excitement, a shine.
“I’m looking forward to watching you ride. It’s been a while. You’ll hear me yelling. Do you have anybody here?”
“Nah. I’m not going to win the big purse, but I’m going for the event. I’m going to have a ball.”
He shrugged. That was probably true, but Parker had a good attitude. Fun was as good a motivation as any. “Hey, all it takes is the right bull.”
“Or the right seven bulls, huh?”
“Could happen.” He tried not to laugh, but the way Parker was gaping at him made it hard.
“What are y’all laughing at?” Sky’s hand slid across his lower back, teasing him, loving on him.
“Parker. Who else?” That touch distracted him from it, though.
“Ah. You got to stand at the Cargill booth in five, man. I was over there talking to Craig Morning and he warned me.”
“Fuck. Thanks. I owe you.” Parker took off at a jog.
“How are you feeling, babe? Going well?” He kept his hands to himself, but he didn’t want to. “Seems like everyone’s glad you’re here.”
“I’m solid. You okay?” Sky’s voice dropped. “You’re damn pretty.”
“I’m good. The ladies love me.” The compliment was sweet, and hot too. “Thank you, cowboy. I’m looking forward to getting you out of that hat.”
“I’m ready for that. Too bad I got to work.” Sky chuckled, and he loved that, how wicked it sounded. “And I don’t even get to ride.”
“Maybe we’ll both get a chance later.”
“Hey, Champ!” Mitch walked up looking like he wanted a million bucks. “I hear we’re having supper later.”