"Only if we know what we're doing?" Dylan pointed to Jackson with his beer bottle. "You ought to be willing to get up on one of them, rodeo man." He took a swallow of beer and glanced at Rogue. "What about you?"
"Hell, yeah. I've been on a horse a time or two. Or maybe three."
"I'm serious, you guys," Killian insisted. "If you don't know what you're doing, someone can get hurt."
"Hell, I'll help." Jackson pushed himself out of his chair. "Come on. I'll hold your hands."
"Shit." Rogue shook his head. "I don't know about that. Doing anything with you is dangerous. Look what you did to your hand on a simple fishing trip."
"Yeah, but it's healing nicely. I'll be fine before my next date on the rodeo circuit." He glanced at Dylan. "You game, bro?"
"You know," Killian drawled, rubbing his chin, "I didn't say it had to be done this minute. Just whenever the time feels right."