A voice broke in. “You had a pretty good run today.”
Rio turned to find the big man who’d won the pro reining standing next to him. Rio felt that familiar surge of testosterone as he took in the sight of the hunk dressed in his black silk cowboy shirt, which showed off his well-developed pecs. He wore a black hat and a pair of skin hugging jeans, cinched with an oval championship buckle that reflected the colored lights from the bar.
“Too bad you were off pattern. You rode good.”
“Well, thank you, uh…”
“Zeke, Zeke Harris,” the man said, sticking out his hand and smiling.
Rio took the man’s hand. The grip was sure, strong. It sent a thrill right to Rio’s groin. He smiled up into the man’s handsome face, with its steel blue eyes and salt and pepper mustache, matching the hair revealed by Zeke’s open collar.
“Rio Cody. Pleased to meet ya.”
“Who’s your trainer?” Zeke asked.