Her Rider His Rebel

Chapter 2

All the riders make it out of the arena and into their vehicles, Duncan's hand resting on her hip. His rough hands hadn't left her for more than a few seconds at a time before finding their way back to her like a magnetic force.

"Let's mess with them." He rumbles into her ear before popping open her truck door.

"How?" She asks, and should not have. The large cowboy leans them into the truck, turning their heads so the cameras could not see whether or not they were--in fact-- kissing. His calloused hands slide up her sides, fingers expertly tugging the hair tie from her hair. All at once, her big red locks fall down onto her seat in a sea of waves. He hears the scuffle of shoes across the lot as the news buzzards circle the truck like fresh roadkill.

"Duncan Byrnes! Are you and Alison an item?" Asks one of the reporters, cameras flashing. She giggles, feeling excited to be caught. Her cheeks flare red and she hides her face between the seat and his shoulder.

"You know what my daddy always says?" He asks the woman standing in front of them, entirely too close the bull riders. "Mind your biscuits and life will be just gravy. You understand what that means, don'cha?" He raises a curious eyebrow to the woman with a sleek ponytail and black suit before turning back to face her with his messy dark hair. 

"Well, I'd just like to say you are the most attractive cowboy I have ever had the privilege of gettin' with." Alison smiles, pressing a kiss to Duncan's cheek as her fingers card through his soft dark hair.

"Boy, if she ain't whiskey in a tea cup!" He chuckles, letting her stand up. His fingers tug at her shirt, uncrumpling the hem of her button down before striding around the truck to pop open her door. She climbs in, giving him a genuine grin. He knew that grin, he loved when he made her smile that way. 

 "Duncan, do you understand how many tabloid articles are gonna be out about us?" She exclaims, the horror of what they just did sinking in.

"Let 'em publish that horse shit! We know what the truth is." He chuckles, patting her knee as they drive through town. "Say, how 'bout we find some grub?" He asks, face calm and somber.

"Say, grub sounds pretty good." She giggles, mimicking the way he just spoke. He chuckles, pushing her shoulder as he takes a left turn.

"Don't you think, that maybe we could just try this datin' thing once? And if it don't work, I'll just keep bein' annoying like I am now." He smiles, glancing at her.

"Look, Duncan. I think you're cute an' all. But I just--I can't date someone who I'm in competition with." She states, looking at her dusty boots and chewing on her lip. She had never had to turn down such a great person before, and felt damn guilty.

"So, you mean, if I wasn't competition you'd date me?" He asks, shutting off the truck. His big brown eyes catch her green ones and they stare into each other's souls.

"Sure." She nods, looking back to her boots. He slides closer to her, putting a hand on her knee.

"Look, I ain't no competition for you. We all know you're gonna win World Finals. All I want, is for my momma to be happy. She keeps tellin' me to find a woman, but I can't. And all I'm askin' is for you to come home with me on our Christmas break to meet my momma and show her I can find a woman." He explains, eyes filling with tears as he turns the corner of his mouth down and looks at the placement of his hand. Suddenly, he realizes how bad he really wants her for himself. He does not want to share with anyone else.

"Hey, look. I know that I'd help my momma if I could. So, tell me what I have to do." She smiles, cupping his stubbly cheek and pressing a light, loving kiss to his tanned skin.