Broken Trust

I ride bulls for a living—chasing buckles, eight seconds at a time. It’s the only thing I’ve ever been good at. Tough. Disciplined. Built for the dirt and the danger. When I’m not on the road, I’m back home in Wildhaven, Wyoming, putting in work at the Raintree-Storm Rodeo Academy — training the next generation on my family’s land.

It’s a simple life. The way I like it.

Then Jovie Asbury walks into the arena and wrecks everything.

She’s not the kid I remember—the sweet, quiet girl who used to trail after my little brother, Cabe, with hearts in her eyes. No, she’s grown into something else entirely. Smart. Driven. Off-limits in every way that matters. She’s interning at the academy, working toward a career in sports medicine, determined to earn her place on the rodeo circuit.

And I can’t stop watching her or thinking about her. Can’t stop wanting her.

And that’s a big problem.

Because Cabe never stopped loving her.

And some lines, no matter how bad you want to cross them… you don’t.

Except the longer she’s here, the harder it gets to stay on my side of that line.

And I’m starting to realize that eight seconds on the back of a bull is nothing compared to trying to hold on to my self-control around Jovie Asbury.