Free Rodeo King (Dustin Lovers Book 1) by Cheryl Yeko, Char Chaffin Page A

“Daddy,
the camel, okay?”
    “You got it, son. As long as nobody else
is riding on it.”
    A light breeze ruffled the edges of
Rosemary’s long, loose curls as she walked beside him. She wore faded Levi’s
that clung to every luscious curve and a thin cotton blouse with no sleeves,
the unbuttoned ends tied beneath her perfect breasts. Each time he eyed that
expanse of creamy pale midriff she’d left bare, Caleb broke out in a sweat. A
pair of dusty, beat-up red leather Dingos with squared off toes peeked from the
frayed hem of her jeans. He vaguely remembered them from years ago and couldn’t
believe she’d kept them all this time. Without a speck of lipstick or anything
else on her face, she looked no more than sixteen.
    Then she glanced sideways and gave him a
smile, lips parted slightly and showing a flash of straight, white teeth.
    Unable to look away from her beauty, every
muscle in his body tightened and clenched with need. This woman. Only
Rosemary. There’d never be anyone else for him.
    When Carson wriggled to get down, then
tugged on his hand, Caleb blinked and shook his head. His cheeks heated like a
teenager, and from just a single smoldering glance from the fiery redhead
standing so close to him.
    He broke the contact between them,
squatting next to his son whose excitement had him bouncing in his scuffed
hi-top sneakers. “You got a bee up your butt, partner?” he teased gently.
    Carson waved his arms in a childish
frenzy. “Daddy, the camel!” He squirmed impatiently.
    The music from a piping calliope floated
on the air, and Caleb turned toward the familiar tune. There sat the carousel,
an antique marvel of what modern restoration could accomplish. When Caleb was a
kid, the carousel worked but its colors had been faded, with the tips of equine
ears broken off and paint missing from saddles and muzzles. Somebody had spent
a shitload of money to bring the ride to its former glory. It now sparkled in
the sun, packed with joyous children riding their favorite animals with happy
abandon, while their parents waved and snapped pictures.
    “Can we go? Please?” Carson tugged at
both their hands.
    Rosemary’s laughter floated across the
air as she allowed Carson to drag her forward, while Caleb pretended to protest
and lag behind. More determined than ever, their son pulled harder until they
all stood at the chainlink fence circling the carousel. He would have bolted
through the gate if Rosemary hadn’t grabbed the back of his shirt.
    “Carson, calm down. We have to buy
tickets, then wait our turn.” She knelt and traced a gentle finger along his
pouting lower lip. “That camel isn’t going anywhere, honey. You and Daddy get
the tickets, and I’ll hold your place in line.” She lifted his chin. “Okay?”
    “Okay,” he mumbled, then gave her a
hopeful look. “Can I ride as much as I want?”
    Caleb couldn’t contain his snort of
laughter. “What an operator.” He ruffled his son’s soft curls. “Come on, let’s
go buy some tickets. Maybe a roll of them.” His promised got Carson squealing
ecstatically and jumping up and down.
    As Caleb grinned at his son’s antics, Rosemary
leaned over and gave him a lingering kiss, a fast, hot flick of her tongue, and
a parting shot.
    “Sucker.”
    ***
    Waiting in line at the carousel,
Rosemary pressed a hand to her fluttering stomach. The kiss she’d given Caleb
had been meant as a silly tease, but even a touch of that mouth on hers made
her center clutch. She sucked in a steadying breath just as a hand tapped her
shoulder.
    “Hey, Rosie! How’ve you been?” Miranda
Benson, nicknamed ‘Mimi’ since childhood, stood behind her in line, three
giggling boys holding onto the conch belt cinching her narrow cowgirl hips.
    Mimi had made the women’s rodeo circuit
in Dustin and Cheyenne during her teen years, whittling the baby fat from her
body like only an extreme workout of riding and roping could do. Younger by two
years, Mimi’s sister Dwana