Country Girls Do It Better... Book 1 Of The Healing Through Horses Trilogy

Chapter 32

 Kate's p.o.v.

                  As he led me up the bleachers to our seats, my head was spinning. He kissed me.
                 He kissed me. 
                The worst part was, I didn't mind. I was completely and utterly okay with it. 
                He led me to the middle of the fifth row, fairly good seats. 
               I was aware of every move he made. Every breath even. I was aware of how his hand was warm in my own. And how my hand was cold. I was aware of how close he sat next to the armrest between our chairs. 

              "This is going to be awkward now, isn't it?" He stared at he middle of the arena. His jaw clenched, making the bone look strong and defined.
             "Only if you make it awkward," I replied, not taking my eyes off his face, gauging how he would react. 
            "So you're okay with that? I shouldn't have. I wasn't thinking, and I didn't get your permission, and I feel bad about it now." 
           "It's okay, Hunter. Seriously. I'm fine. Just warn me next time." I smirked, and he raised and eyebrow, tearing his gaze away from the arena and looking at me. 
           "I wasn't that bad, was I?" He almost looked genuinely worried that he was a horrible kisser. 
           "Well, considering that I don't know what good is, I wouldn't say you were too bad." I looked away, slightly embarrassed at where this conversation had gone. 
          He sighed happily. "That's a relief." 

         "Can we not talk about this?" I was blushing again, much to my disdain. 

         He chuckled. "Anything for you, Darlin'." 

         Yep, this blush ain't going away any time soon.
           We sat in a relatively comfortable silence, until the announcer rode out. He was riding a piebald paint horse, a microphone in one hand, and the reins in the other. He scanned the crowd in the Colosseum, an aura of importance following him around the arena. 

           "Everyone please stand for the national anthem." 
           A flag was lowered from the ceiling as a girl walked in. She looked to be about 18, definitely not over 20. Her voice was amazing, and the song was as breathtaking as ever. The national anthem and the prayer was always the best part of rodeos. 

           After a few minutes, the first bronco was let out of the chute. He went bucking across the arena, the rider barely holding on. He stayed on for approximately six seconds, before getting thrown into the sand. 
           Cheers erupted from all around me. It reminded me of the old Roman gladiator fights. 
           The next few riders came out, and I didn't realize how worried I had gotten until Hunter leaned over and whispered in my ear, "calm down. They're fine." 
           Confused, I looked at him, asking a silent question. He sent a pointed look at our still intertwined hands. I had begun to hold his hand super tight. It was red, and my knuckles were white. 

           "Sorry." I dropped his hand. He laughed before taking mine in his again. 
           "It's fine. Just don't squeeze quite so tight." He grinned and turned his attention back to the action. 

           When it was time for the barrel racers, I completely forgot Hunter was even in the same room. I wanted to be out there so bad. 
           They were done running much too fast for my liking. 

             The rodeo didn't end for another hour and a half at least. I was exhausted, but happy. Hunter wasn't as bad as I originally thought. 

            "Well? Was that worth me reminding you?" He was leaning against the open door, waiting for me to climb into his truck. 
           "Yes. I think so."