Charles chuckled. “An okay asshole. Well, I love watching him ride, as if he and that horse have one mind or something.”
“I’ve never met anyone better, and my brothers and folks are all riders.” It wasn’t that he didn’t know how, of course he did. He’d just been riding bulls for a long damn time.
Charles nodded and watched the next several bulls out of the chute with interest. He asked about scoring and how they picked the bulls. He asked about the order of the riders. He asked whatthe payout was everyone was gunning for. “So some riders have helmets and some have hats…?”
“The helmets are safer, but some riders feel like they mess with your balance. Some riders just want the hat. It’s a preference thing. Some leagues made it necessary, but ours hasn’t.” He hadn’t worn one, but he was a balance rider, not a strength one. Roper didn’t wear one either.
“How well is Roper really riding? He said he thinks he’ll make the finals. Do you think he could win? Is hethatgood?”
What was he supposed to say? No? He didn’t think so? He thought Roper would make some good money and have a good time but not win. “The numbers aren’t in his favor to win the whole thing, but he can win tonight’s event, or any number of things.”
Charles nodded. “He’s your family, so that wasn’t a fair question, I suppose. I am looking forward to watching him ride regardless.” Charles bumped shoulders with him in a friendly, supportive way.
“He’s good. Damn good. Better than me.” Now, at any rate. He’d been damn fine, once upon a time.
“Better than you? Are you sure?” Charles leaned back in his seat. “I have a confession to make. I googled you.”
“Of course you did.” That made perfect sense. “I googled you too. We’re living together. It would be silly to not make sure we weren’t serial killers, right?”
Charles snorted. “I suppose I’m naive. I hadn’t thought to google you until I found out you’d been a bull rider. I trusted the agency to send me someone without serial killer tendencies. Then again, I fully expected to decide within days that I didn’t need or want an assistant.”
“Well, I’ve never worked for an agency. I wouldn’t have, if it hadn’t been for Roper, you know? I never would have thought of it.” And wouldn’t that have been a shame?
“Roper got you the job? Did he know someone?”
“Yes, sir. He and the owner had been, uh, boyfriends.” His cheeks were going to set on fire.
“Ah. Well, it’s good to have connections. I’m glad this one worked out in your favor, if not theirs.”
“Oh, they’re still friends. They were just bad together, I guess. Roper said Rog wasn’t into the same stuff.” And that was enough information, full stop.
It didn’t seem like Charles thought anything of it. “And as you can see, I didn’t fire you, so it’s working out well for us. I’m having a good time and we still have the whole weekend—whoa! That guy made it! That was amazing!”
They all cheered, and he watched the score come up. Oh, a ninety. The confetti guns were?—
BANG!
They were suddenly covered in colored paper.
“Oh!” Charles jumped and then started to laugh and waved his arms in the falling confetti. “You didn’t warn me!”
“Ninety-point rides get confetti!” He cracked up, taking a single piece to save for his collection. He’d date it later.
“Thanks.” Charles was grinning and his eyes lit up in a way that made him look so much younger than he was. He noticed that Charles took two pieces for himself, which then disappeared into the man’s pockets. “We need more ninety-pointers. That was amazing.”
“Who’s the newbie, Ryder?” Rope’s husband leaned over to grin at him.
Oh Lord. “This is my good friend, Mr.”Charlie. “Charles.”
That was almost a whoops.
“Hey, Charles. I’m Jude. Welcome to the family section.”
“Thank you very much. I feel so privileged.”
“Are you enjoying the show?”
“I really am. This is so much fun. I’m just amazed by these riders.”