Extreme Bull

this, but I want to win at least one final.” BJ’s eyes took on a dreamy look. “Show that buckle to my son Extreme Bull | Catt Ford
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    one day, tell him how I used the winnings to buy my spread….”
    “You got a son?”
    “No, but I hope to one day.”
    Jeff laughed. “Counting your chickens before they’re hatched, Beej.”
    “Thanks, Mr. Kill-joy, how about you?”
    “No chickens, no eggs. I just need to win,” Jeff said softly.
    “Which came first, the chicken or the egg?” BJ asked, just to be saying something. The bleak look on Jeff’s face made him want to help in some way.
    “To get to the other side,” Jeff answered.
    BJ turned his head away. He kind of had an idea what was bugging Jeff. He hadn’t seen him around Clay since St.
    Louis, and both men looked miserable except when they were riding or when they were laughing too much. Then he snickered himself and pointed. “Get a load of Terrence.” Jeff lowered his head onto the top rail and shook with laughter. “Terrence is sure having a day, isn’t he?”
    “Slow bull, and he doesn’t seem to know how to kick him into gear,” BJ agreed. “Usually T-Bone is pretty salty.” Extreme Bull | Catt Ford
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    Terrence lolloped sideways in the saddle, the bull lurched in the opposite direction, and Terrence fell off, one foot still caught in the rope. The bull took off, irritated that it hadn’t managed to lose its rider completely, and Terrence bounced across the ring, sending up a cloud of dust every time his body hit the ground.
    “That bull should be called Trampoline! He’s sure giving Terrence the bounce!” Jeff cracked.
    “Or maybe Terrence should,” BJ said.
    Sam sniggered. He was supposed to be impartial, but sometimes he couldn’t help it watching the antics of the younger set. “Jeff, sometimes you got a way with words.” Jeff flushed, just like he seemed to every time Sam spoke to him since he walked in on them in Clay’s trailer.
    “Kick loose, you fool,” he muttered as the bull turned to pull Terrence across the ring in the other direction.
    One of the clowns, Jeff recognized him as Caleb, ran at the bull from the other side and managed to hoist himself partway onto the bull’s back. When the bull slowed to take care of this new distraction, another clown rushed in and freed Terrence’s boot.
    Caleb dropped off the bull immediately and ran in front of his nose. The bull took off following him, and Caleb led him right to the gate. Winded and frustrated, the bull went quietly.

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    “We gotta take Terrence to the bar tonight and get him drunk so we can learn all his trade secrets,” Jeff said, hoping desperately that BJ would agree to go along. He didn’t want to sit alone in his trailer that night.
    “Hell, he’ll spill ’em all sober, not that you’d want to follow his advice,” BJ said. “But it’s a definite idea.” BJ hooked up with a girl almost instantly when they reached the bar and abandoned Jeff, leaving him alone with Terrence. He really hadn’t had a lot to say to Terrence before, but Jeff didn’t want to deal with the girls trolling the crowds for a one-nighter.
    “So why do you ride bulls if you suck so bad at it?” Jeff asked.
    “I don’t suck at it!” Terrence glared at him and gulped his beer.
    “Listen, I’ve seen you ride broncs. You seem like you’re at least having fun on board a horse. You gotta ride like you love it, man, or you’ll never be any good at it. You’re paying high fees to ride in the bull tourney, and you’re low man on the totem pole. Why don’t you give it up and go back to the regular rodeo before you kill yourself?” Extreme Bull | Catt Ford
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    Terrence glared some more and then sighed. “It’s my girl. I want to impress her.”
    “And she’s impressed that you’re gonna rock bottom a whole season?”
    “Last year when I was on the road she took up with a bull rider. Said he was a real man. I thought maybe I could get her back if I rode bulls too.” Afraid that Terrence was going to start crying into his beer, Jeff said, “Maybe it’s the way you dress?”
    “What’s wrong with the way I dress?” Terrence bristled.
    “You look like Liberace’s wet dream of a cowboy,” Jeff said frankly. “You’re covered in glitter. You wear chaps with sequin fringes.”
    “I like a little flash.”
    “More than a little.”
    “Where’s that faggot?”
    Both their heads came up defensively as a large