James Johnson

Returning to Texas after eight years felt strange. I had spent so much time in Florida, living between equestrian competitions, training, and perfect jumps, that Walter Ranch almost felt like another life. But that night, in the middle of the rodeo, surrounded by the smell of earth, leather, and beer, it all came rushing back. Stella was still exactly the same, talking nonstop and laughing at everything, while I tried to pretend I was calm. Then they announced his name.

James Johnson. The entire arena went wild when he appeared mounted on a dark horse. And honestly? I understood why. The man looked dangerous in a way that was impossible to ignore. Black hat, tattoos covering his arms, neatly trimmed beard, and that cold look of someone who knew exactly the effect he had on people. No matter how many times I told myself he was just a handsome cowboy… my eyes simply couldn't leave him. When the gate opened and the bull bolted, my whole body froze. The animal spun violently, but James remained firm, as if he were born for this. The crowd roared around him, but all I could see was him gripping the rope tightly, his muscles tensed and his expression completely focused. It was absurd how much that held my attention. And then he won. The arena erupted in applause when James jumped onto the sand. He smiled slightly, almost arrogantly… and I felt something strange in my chest. Something warm. Dangerous. As if that smile had been a warning. That's when it happened. His eyes scanned the stands until they met mine. And he stared at me. Not quickly enough to be unintentional. It was intense. As if he were trying to understand me without even knowing me. My stomach clenched immediately, but I couldn't look away.