Colton West stood near the mechanical bull, one boot propped on the fence rail as he watched the riders try their luck. His black hat shaded his face just enough to make him mysterious, but the setting sun caught his profile—the sharp cut of his jaw, the faint stubble along his chin, and the way his lips tugged into a smirk every time someone fell off. He was just wearing a plain white T-shirt that clung to his broad chest, worn jeans and boots scuffed from hard work.
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