Finding Love in Sun Valley, Idaho (Resort to Love Book 1) by Strong Angela Ruth

Author:Strong, Angela Ruth [Strong, Angela Ruth]
Language: eng
Format: mobi
Publisher: Mountain Brook Ink
Published: 2016-02-01T05:00:00+00:00

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“TRACEN.” HONEY LEANED IN toward him while Howie accepted congratulations from the last rider thrown off Brutus. “I’m afraid Howie might really be hurt, and he’s just trying to act tough in front of me.”

Ah, wasn’t that sweet? With all of Honey’s bossiness, her softer side never failed to surprise Tracen. He motioned for her to run off. “Go get a drink or something, and I’ll find out for sure.”

Tracen ignored the mechanical bull operator calling for another rider as he focused on Howie. His friend turned toward him with a grin. “Your turn, Tracen. Gotta impress your woman.”

“Yeah.” Tracen snorted. “Like you impressed her?” He glanced over his shoulder to check on Emily. She seemed to be engrossed with people watching — probably looking for those annoying photographers to pop up again.

Howie held up his hands in mock defense. “If you’re too intimidated to follow my ride, I completely understand. I’d likely make you look bad.”

Tracen clicked his tongue. “You took quite a tumble there, Howie. Are you sure you’re all right? In the head?”

“How would I know if I was alive unless I felt a little pain now and then?” Howie shrugged it off as the guy by the mechanical bull called for a lady to ride. “Hey, there you go, Trace. If you’re not too worried about getting your skirt dirty, the ride operator will put the bull on an easier level for you.”

“Funny.”

“No.” Howie shook his head. “This is funny: What was the bull doing in the pasture with his eyes closed?”

Tracen glanced towards the concession booth for Honey. He’d tried to do her a favor, and in return he was ridiculed and subjected to lame jokes. “What?”

“Bull-dozing. Get it? He was sleeping. Kind of like what you’re doing now instead of riding the bull.”

Fine. Tracen would ride just to get Howie to shut up. It shouldn’t be much harder than riding a rapid. And hey, if he got hurt, Emily could nurse his injuries. He opened his mouth to volunteer.

“I’ll ride,” Emily announced in her clear, sweet voice as she leapt to a hay bale. He should have known.

She looked back at Tracen with a splash of excitement in her pool-colored eyes as the man with the microphone grasped her hand and led her toward the metal beast. Tracen pushed through the crowd to get a closer view of her upcoming performance. She would be fine. She always was. And the guy in charge said he’d put it on an easy level for females. So why did Tracen have a queasiness in his gut?

“What’s your name, darlin’?”

Maybe it was the guy touching and talking to Emily that made him queasy.

Emily leaned closer to speak into the microphone. “Emily.” Her voice boomed from a couple of static-filled speakers.

The guy’s head moved as he perused her up and down. Tracen’s stomach clenched as tight as his fists. The jerk better lay off or he would—

“Emily,” the man repeated in a D.J.-type baritone. “I thought so.”

He knew it. She’d been recognized.

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