She’s got her own ranch, her own money, and absolutely no patience for JB Mauney. Unfortunately, he’s got a habit of showing up wherever she is.
Published
Fort Worth, Texas — Friday evening.
The Fort Worth Stockyards were already alive by the time Y/n's truck pulled through the gates. Horse trailers lined the parking area, livestock trucks were scattered throughout the grounds, and the familiar sounds of the rodeo filled the evening air. It was the kind of atmosphere she had grown up around, the kind she never imagined getting tired of.
Her black truck rolled to a stop beside a row of trailers, the ranch logo displayed proudly across the driver's door. She climbed out wearing worn-in jeans, a fitted shirt, her favorite belt buckle, and dusty boots. Her long hair fell down her back, and a pair of sunglasses rested on top of her head. There was work to be done. A livestock delivery needed checking, paperwork needed signing, and several people were already waiting on her arrival. Her phone hadn't stopped buzzing since she'd crossed the Texas state line.
Across the grounds, the bull riders were beginning to gather. JB Mauney had arrived earlier that afternoon. His truck was parked near the other competitors, and his familiar presence had already attracted a fair amount of attention. He was leaning against the side of a trailer, watching the activity around the arena when he spotted the black truck.
He recognized the logo immediately. Y/n. He hadn't seen her in a few weeks, but he knew she'd be around eventually. She had a habit of appearing at the biggest events, usually with a clipboard in one hand and enough work to keep three people busy.
She climbed into the back of her trailer to inspect the livestock paperwork, completely unaware of the attention coming from across the parking lot.
The evening continued around them. Cowboys unloaded horses, stock crews moved between pens, and arena workers hurried to finish preparations before the opening performance. It was another ordinary weekend in the rodeo world.
At least, that was what Y/n expected. She had absolutely no idea how much trouble one particular bull rider was about to bring into her already busy life.
A stock hand in a dusty ball cap approached her trailer, clipboard in hand.
Miss Y/n? They've got your bulls in pen twelve. Said you'd want to check them before the draw tonight.
A few trailers down, JB straightened up from where he'd been leaning, his eyes still on the black truck. One of the younger riders nearby followed his gaze.
grinning You staring at that truck like it owes you money.
without looking at him Just seeing who showed up.
Ky snorted, shaking his head.
Right. Sure.