Jude nodded approvingly. “There will be more confetti. And some other fun things.”
“Looking forward to it.” Charles was surprisingly friendly for someone who had seemed so introverted at first.
“Where are the babies, y’all?” Between them, Sky and Beckett and Rope and Jude had five ranging in age from two to twelve.
Sky chuckled. “Staying with Beck’s folks at our place.”
Jude nodded. “Ours are with Rope’s parents. This is a short but grown-up vacation.”
Charles still seemed giddy from the confetti. “Speaking of grown-up, have you tried the adult milkshakes? You really must try them.”
“Ooh…” Sky and Beck spoke together, while Rope and Jude gave each other a meaningful glance.
“We have to get some after the event.”
“Highly recommended. Roper’s suggestion.” Charles was watching the riders again.
Beckett’s eyes rolled. “Should have known. I bet he’s glad to have you here, Ryder.”
“He’s doing fine without me.”
Sky caught his gaze, winked. He got it. Sky hadn’t quit on his own terms either.
“Both of those things can be true at the same time.” Charles stretched out an arm and rested it along the back of his seat.
“I think you’re right.” He offered Charles a smile, unsure if he should lean back into the touch or not. He decided to relax. If Charles moved, that would let him know.
“When does he ride?” Charles asked—without moving. “How do they decide what order?”
“There are five sections. The top ten will ride in the short-go. The top three riders tonight will be in the money. And then theydo it all over again tomorrow.” He let himself just breathe and relax.
“So we get to watch the same guys have another shot tomorrow?” Charles’s arm was still resting on his seat—not his shoulders, but he could feel the man’s warmth all the same.
“And Saturday. Then the Sunday short-go is for the event win and the big money. The points are cumulative.”
“Got it. Do people put money on this sport like they do on football and such?”
“I’m sure they do, but—I mean, there are a ton of variables, right?” The bull, injuries, the cowboy, whether they threw the ride—it would be way more chance than he was willing to risk money on.
Charles shrugged. “I would guess so. I’m not a betting man. I was just curious.” The next ride was very good. Not a ninety-plus, but respectable. Charles moved his arm long enough to applaud the cowboy, and when that arm came back Charles gave his shoulder a squeeze. “That was great. My heart is in my throat every time these cowboys dismount though.”
“Oh, I hear that. I have seen some wrecks.”
He’d survived some wrecks. He’d barely survived the last wreck.
“I’m sure.” It was gratifying that Charles was interested. He had a lot of questions, and they seemed to be out of genuine curiosity. “Is there a halftime? A time to get a bite and something to drink? Or do we just come and go?”
“You mostly come and go. There will be a ten-fifteen-minute break between the main go and the short-go, but that’s toward the end.” He offered Charles a smile. “If you need anything, I’ll be happy to hook you up.”
“Oh, I was just thinking something cold to drink would be nice. You’re not on the clock. I can get it for myself.”
“I know.” He did, but he didn’t mind. He liked knowing Mister Charlie was settled. “Do you want water, Coke, a beer?”
“A Coke would be very nice, thank you.” Charles pulled out his wallet.
“My treat. You bought the milkshakes.” He winked at Charles and stood. “Y’all need anything from concessions?” He didn’t think so. He didn’t think the guys were even watching the show, really.
They all shook their heads as he passed. “Nope. We’re good. Thanks, man.”