Brody glanced out into the arena, then made his way back toward the chutes. Â He really needed a good ride today. Â Not just because he needed the money, although that was obviously a factor: he loved his brother, but he was coming on thirty years old and eager to move out of the older manâs apartment and into his own place. Â Not that Eddy didnât probably need the extra income, but there were plenty of other guys in the circuit that would pay for a spare room close to the arena.
But Brody also had a shift first thing in the morning, and he was pretty sure The Dalton wouldnât appreciate him limping around the hotel during his song and dance numbers. Â In fact, he knew it, because heâd done it before. Â He was hoping for a promotion up from assistant-- there had been whispers all through the place since McKinleyâs had gotten Best Attraction in the reviews. Â So he needed to be on top of his game.
His name was called, and Brody adjusted himself carefully as he settled into the saddle, gripping the knob tightly. Â An alarm sounded, and the horse bolted, and Brody hung on for dear life...
Not bad. Â He hadnât won, but in this amateur arena, heâd done fairly well, and was walking off with a good chunk of change in his pocket. Â The man hadnât bothered stripping out of his gear as he lay out in the back, waiting for Eddy to finish his own run. Â Â There was a smattering of people meandering around, but no one seemed to notice the bronc rider sprawled over a pallet of hay, and Brody was fine with that. Â Or at least he thought no one had noticed him...
It took him a second to realize the voice was addressing him, and he looked up, blinking to bring the person into focus. Â âIâm sorry, what?â