The Bull Rider Wears Pink (3 page)

“It's all about the upper body
strength,” John explained as he poked at her, his fingers close to her breast. “It
seems God has blessed Ms. Cooper with a lot of upper body strength.” He
squeezed her muscle again.

“It has nothing to do with God,”
Cassidy argued while stepping out of his grasp. Even though John's touch was
making her warm in some long neglected places, she didn't need this right now. She
had her son and her bull riding. “I've been lifting weights for the last year,”
she told the men. Then again, John already knew that. She had used the weight
set he had in his guest bedroom on the days they weren't working.

“She's bench pressing two hundred
pounds.” Kevin stopped typing long enough to join the conversation.
“Twice her weight.”
He shrugged. “But she can only do it
once.”

Cassidy stared at her son. He
actually sounded proud of her.
Wow, that
felt good.
She decided she wanted more. “I've been riding since I was six,” she announced.
“I've stayed on a bull for eight seconds plenty of times.” She eyed Kevin.

But it was John who whistled
between his teeth. “Six years old,” he said. He shifted back on his heels and
looped his thumbs into his belt hooks just like Bret
Bodner
.
“That's impressive.” He smiled again. “Cassidy Cooper you are one heck of a
woman.” He added, “Nice T-shirt,” with a nod toward Kevin.

Cassidy turned to Kevin. He didn't
look as impressed with her accomplishments as he had two minutes ago. His
interest had shifted to John as he ran his hands down the front of his chest. “
Yo
, you watch
Battlestar
?” he
asked the preacher.

John smiled and nodded. “Good show,”
he remarked.

Kevin smiled back so hard Cassidy
thought his face would crack. But wait, Cassidy had watched Firefly, she'd done
her time. Hadn't she gained a little of her son's esteem? Shouldn’t she be on
the receiving end of smiles like that?

She wondered how many seasons of
Battlestar
there were and if she could start watching
tonight? She wanted to join in this conversation.

“All five
seasons?”
Kevin asked John, answering her
first question.

“Of course,” the preacher replied.
“And the old episodes too with Lorne Greene.”

Now she knew. Even if she started
watching in the next five minutes it would take her at least two months to get
through the entire show. Firefly was much easier, to the dismay of sci-fi fans
everywhere,
all they made was one season.

Damn...she was upset. John was
getting much further with Kevin-bonding in two minutes, than she ever had. Curse
the man, the kid was still smiling at him. This just wasn't fair.

“Who’s your
favorite
character?” Kevin folded his arms over his chest and shifted on his heels. Even
though John had him at hello, Kevin could compete with the best interrogator the
LAPD had to offer.

Cassidy held her breath waiting to
see if John would pass the test.

“Kara Starbuck,” John replied not
intimidated at all.

During this back and forth Bret
Bodner’s
head snapped between the boy and the preacher. He
asked, “Is this the kind of thing a man of the cloth should be watching?”

John laughed uncomfortably. “Probably
not,” he replied. “But the show has lots of religious overtones.” He rubbed his
neck.

“Well, stick to your purpose here,”
Bret advised as he started to walk away, then he stopped and pointed at
Cassidy. He suggested to John, “Say a prayer for her.”

“Certainly,” John replied with a
wink at Cassidy. “I’ll ask the Good Lord to keep her on the bull.” He smiled sheepishly
at
Bodner
as the man walked away again.

“What the hell are you doing here
dressed like that?” Cassidy whispered at John once Bret was out of ear shot and
Kevin was looking at his laptop. John was so far outside his undercover comfort
zone it hurt to look at him. But Bret turned back to them before the undercover
cop had a chance to explain. “Preacher man,” he
said,
his cell phone in his ear. “Monty Harper just fell off his bull. He’s
unconscious and on the way to the hospital. I want you to go there and say a
prayer with his wife.”

* * * *

Most nights John Risk couldn’t
sleep. Cassidy Cooper had done that to him after she left L.A. Probably it was
her advice about needing to look deep inside
himself
and find his humanity that had him lying in bed and staring at the ceiling.
Jesus H. Christ he knew she had been mad at him when he chose to sacrifice that
girl to porno for the greater good of getting the gun runner. He didn’t know
she was mad enough to expose his cover, get him shot and walk out of his life
leaving no forwarding address. She also changed her cell number and stayed off
the Internet.

After she betrayed him and
disappeared, there was a hurt in his heart so deep he knew it’d never go away.
To ease the pain he told himself she was a traitor, turncoat and any other word
he could come up with to describe what she’d done to him, but it didn’t help. As
a last resort, he took heart burn medication but that didn’t do anything either.

God damn it, it was his job to
capture Lewis Trigger, break up the gang and bring all those lowlifes to
justice. No matter who got in the way he had to do his job. He rolled his
shoulders as he crossed the street and hiked up the steps of the hamburger joint
across from the hotel. Now he had a different undercover job and he needed to
do it just as well, except this one didn’t come to him as naturally.

In his hands he held fliers
advertising his service on Sunday. He only had three people attend the service
last Sunday. If he wanted to appear legitimate he had to step up his game. Plus
Mrs. Goodwin, the registration lady, told him she only showed up because she
thought he was cute, not because his words inspired her.

Yes, she hurt his ego but maybe he
could work with it. The plan was to flash a few smiles at the buckle bunnies
over their
french
fries and
milk shakes and hopefully he'd have a bigger congregation. The problem was he
was up against the bull riders and those guys had the women eating out of the
palms of their hands. Back in the day, before he met Cassidy Cooper, John got
women the same way. Now he had nobody.

Rather than throwing a pity party
for himself, he pushed open the door to the hamburger joint. The place smelled
of grease while the sound of laugher filled the room. He decided to not feel
self-conscious. Nobody was laughing at him. Then he saw Cassidy Cooper sitting in
a corner booth laughing with that
Battlestar
Galactic
kid who had been hanging around her yesterday.
The one with
the laptop.

Damn, the woman had always gotten
under his skin in a variety of different ways. Especially right now, because
John was positive she was laughing at him. She probably knew he hadn't had sex
since the day she disappeared. Yes, John could have used his contacts at the
police department to track her down through personal information like a bank
account but he didn't. She would be smart enough to know it was him looking for
her and he kept thinking she'd come back when she was ready.

John tried to act normal. But it
was tough, because ever since Cassidy had told him he was a sorry excuse for a
human being, he was suddenly reflecting on his
behavior
a lot more. So much so, he started to second guess his actions. As a result of
that, he tried reading self-help books. The books led him to religion and when
the undercover assignment at the rodeo became available, he applied. There was
a prescription drug ring amongst the rodeo clowns and bull riders.

Did he do it because he was hoping
to run into Cassidy? Well, maybe.

He went to the table next to
Cassidy's. He didn't want to seem like he was ignoring her but he wasn't ready
to face her yet. He gave the blond bunnies a flier each as they looked at him
skeptically
. One asked, “What time does the service start?”

He told her ten.

She told him she didn't get up
until
noon
at the earliest.
He moved on.

“Hi,” John said as he stood over
Cassidy's table. Jesus, he missed her and that dark wavy hair of hers. It even
had hints of red. He was so sick of vacant faced blonds with empty blue eyes he
wanted to puke in his boots. Instead, he nodded at the kid.
Cute
boy, a cousin, or even a friend's kid?
John didn't know the relationship
and since Cassidy was also looking at the kid like she was memorizing the peach
fuzz on his face, John decided to shift his eyes and stare at her boobs.
Cassidy had the best
A
cup he'd ever laid his hands
on.

“John,” Cassidy snapped.

He'd been caught. Holy crap, he
used to do that much more subtly. He moved his eyes to her face and shrugged.

“Do you want something?” she asked.
She nodded toward the flier in his hands.

He fidgeted with the paper and
continued to stand there. Honest to God, he used to be suave. Used to be able
to tell a woman what he wanted in less than ten seconds. But then Cassidy Cooper
had to go and leave him and take away all his self-confidence. The only thing
she left behind was regret.

The kid smiled. “It's the
Battlestar
preacher man.” He looked John up and down. “I
bet you were really crushing on Starbuck when you were younger.”

John shifted uncomfortably. Jesus
H. Christ who was this kid and why was Cassidy allowing him to hang around with
her?

“Don't worry about it,” the urchin
advised, “every guy is hot for Kara.” He continued, “Do you want to sit with
us?” He pulled away the fries Cassidy was eating and shoved them over to John. “Want
some?” he asked.

John sighed, took his hat off and
sat down. “Sure,” he replied. “Don't mind if I do.” He toasted the kid with the
fry. It was stupid but it went over well. The kid laughed. John could tell he
wasn't laughing at him but with him.

Cassidy eyed John for a moment. “You
know,” she told him after taking a sip of her soda, “you look really silly with
your pants riding so high.” Her eyes drifted down his body.

John shrugged, trying to ignore her
suggestive gesture. Yes, he used to be able to rock a pair of weathered Levi’s
with rips in the knees. “It's a look,” he told her. He loved the way her brown
eyes sparkled when she insulted him. “You don't have to like it,” he added so
he didn't seem pathetic.

“Don't they hurt?” she asked. She
reached past him and popped a
french
fry into her
mouth, followed up with a wink.

John knew she was trying to rattle
him and he probably deserved it.

“Mom,” the kid moaned. “Would you
leave the guy alone?” he asked coming to John's rescue. The boy studied Cassidy
for a moment. “To comment on someone’s clothes is a form of bullying.”

Mom?
Did the kid just say mom? Rattled, yes John was completely rattled. Cassidy had
just won hands down. John didn't know Cassidy had a kid.
Especially
a kid so damn
old
.
Not that the kid was gray or ancient. But he
had to be at least twelve, making Cassidy fifteen or sixteen when she gave
birth.

“Okay, okay,” Cassidy raised her
hands in the air. “Sorry,” she said. She blushed as she chewed on another
french
fry.

“Apologize to him, not to me,” the
kid told her. He rolled his eyes like teenagers have done to their parents
since the beginning of time.

“I'm sorry,” she said to John. She
even smiled.

John was in shock. “Who's this?” he
asked jabbing his thumb toward the preteen.

“This is my son,” Cassidy
explained. “Kevin.” She tapped Kevin on the shoulder. She even looked proud.

“Son?”
John said as he rubbed his hand over his forehead. Then he blinked a few times.
“I didn't know you had a—”

“Yeah,” Kevin said. “She got
herself knocked up when she was fifteen and I was the surprise that came from
that moment of teenage indiscretion.” He pulled on the front of his T-shirt.

“A kid,” John finished his
sentence. Jesus, Cassidy and him had been close. Really close. She didn't tell John
about a kid.

“Technically I'm not a kid,” Kevin
answered.
“Now a teenager.”
He looked John up and
down. “You sure you don't like Commander
Adama
better
than Starbuck?” he asked.

“No.” John shook his head.

“Bad ass, reckless fighter pilot
versus stable, level-headed leader,” Kevin continued. “You remind me more of
Adama
,” he remarked.

John needed to get to the bottom of
this because he'd spent the last two years with Cassidy Cooper and he was sure she
never mentioned a kid. “Hey, Kevin,” John said not taking his eyes off Cassidy.
“I'd really like a root beer.” He reached into his back pocket for his wallet. “Could
you get me one while I talk with your mother for a moment?” The line looked
long so hopefully it would take the boy a few minutes to order and pay.