by Jeannie Watt
She’d sent a text to Wylie that morning, telling him that she was doing well. She might need space, but she didn’t want her family worried about her. If she was gone long enough, maybe one of her brothers would do something to distract Selma, and then maybe she could slip back to Gavin, start living life again.
Maybe she should sign one or more of her brothers up on an online dating site...
She snorted softly and stuffed her needles and yarn into the plastic yarn bag. Selma wouldn’t rest until all her children were settled—no matter how crazy it made them.
“Sure you don’t want to go?” Jess had appeared out of nowhere while she’d been lost in thought. She glanced over to where he stood beside the open door, his dark hair damp from what must have been the quickest of showers. Of course, in the tiny camper, a long hot shower was hardly an option.
And he smelled good.
Really good.
“Last chance.”
Something stirred inside of her as he stepped closer to the open door, making it a whole lot easier to say, “No. I’m good here. I’ll have an early night.”
A wild shriek went up as one of the carnival rides fifty yards away began to spin. Jess cocked an eyebrow at her. “I don’t think so.”
Em met his gaze, saw the challenge there and set the yarn bag on the seat. “Fine. I’ll go.”
He gave a satisfied nod and stepped back so that she could get out of the rig. “We’re walking, right?”
“I don’t think we could park any closer to the bar than this.”
The town was packed.
“I’ll grab my coat.” She slid out of the truck and walked past him to the camper where she got her denim jacket out of her bag. Jess followed and locked the door after her.
“If I come home earlier than you, I may need the key.”
“If you come home early, I’m coming with you.”
She frowned at him as they started across the grass to the street leading to town. “Am I your excuse to get to bed early?”
“Maybe.” He gave her a look that told her the real answer was no. He would leave with her because that was the kind of guy he was. Women didn’t walk home alone on his watch.
And that was fine, because Emma wasn’t a fan of lonely streets during wild rodeo events.
* * *
THEY WALKED IN silence for almost a block before Jess felt the need to break it. There was an odd vibe between them, as if something needed to be addressed—some matter that they were both avoiding...except there was no matter, and he wasn’t avoiding anything. And Emma? She might be avoiding Selma, but in general, the girl hit life head-on. Not the avoidant kind. But the feeling persisted.
“I didn’t know you knitted.”
She pushed her hands into her pockets. “I started in high school, after Len moved out. I like the monotony.”
“You like monotony?” He didn’t think so.
He heard her let out a small breath and glanced over at her. Her gaze was down, focused on the cracked asphalt. Her hair swung forward over her shoulders, looking redder than usual under the streetlights, and he felt like reaching out and tucking the strands behind her ear so that he could see her face better.
“Maybe that’s not the right word. I like how rhythmic it is and how it helps me drown out the noise in my head.”
He made a show of sucking air in over his teeth. “Ok-a-ay...”
She scowled at him. “You know what I mean.”
“You have a noisy head.”
“Exactly.” The word dripped sarcasm. Emma was back. She tossed her hair back over her shoulders as she gave him a challenging look. “You should try knitting.”
“Why’s that?”
“Keep you from worrying so much.”
“I don’t—” She snorted and he shifted course. “I like to plan things out.”
“And prepare for every eventuality.”
“I quit my job and I’m following the circuit.”
“After living in a trailer in a field and saving enough money to provide a decent cushion if this doesn’t work out.”
“Nothing wrong with that.”
“Not one thing,” she agreed in a mild tone.
Right. So he shouldn’t feel defensive about it. Except living with the fact that his twin was more financially secure than he was, despite his lack of planning, made Jess feel as if he’d been overly cautious.
He hadn’t been. He’d been sensible.
“Tyler never had to worry about the future because he had you.”
Jess frowned at her. How had she known what he’d been thinking? The fact that she read him so easily bothered him a little.
When they reached the Short Branch, Jess opened the door and a blast of country music hit them hard. Emma showed the bouncer her ID, then squared her shoulders and stepped into the packed bar. Jess put a hand to her side to keep from losing her and felt her muscles tighten. He dropped his hand but followed close behind her as she wound through the crowd to the opposite side of the room where Chase and Dermott sat with a group of rodeo folk.
Having snagged two orphan chairs along the way, he held one out for Em as they settled at the edge of the group. Lara was there, smiling at Dermott as he told a story with a lot of one-armed gestures due to his surgery. She glanced up, saw Jess and her smile widened. And maybe it was his imagination, but he thought he felt Em stiffen beside him.
She and Lara had been competitors once upon a time and, given Lara’s prima donna tendencies and Em’s penchant for calling things the way she saw them, he could see friction developing between the two.
Chase passed the pitcher of beer their way, along with two empty glasses. “We anticipated your arrival.”
Emma smiled at him, then held up her glass, meeting Jess’s gaze over the top before she drank. “To a good ride.”
She was making amends for giving her honest opinion earlier, and it didn’t sit well with him. He liked honesty. He’d just been caught off guard by Em’s. “But not the best,” he said, even though he didn’t yet know if he agreed with her. He’d see if he could find LeClair’s ride online. He’d been prepping for his own ride and had missed it.
“What are you talking about?” one of the bronc riders asked. “You had top score.”
Jess shot Em a quick look. She raised her eyebrows at him, giving him permission to rat her out, but he just shook his head. “Always looking for improvement,” he said. “But your ride, Clancy, that was sheer poetry.”
“Damn straight.” The bronc rider lifted his glass and drank deeply.
* * *
IT’D BEEN A long time since Emma had been out. Darion wasn’t fond of crowds or loud parties, and after Len had died, she’d preferred to stay at home. But tonight, for the first time in a long time, being in the crowded bar made her feel energized instead of isolated. Another step forward.
She glanced over at Jess, glad that he’d pushed her to come with him, and met Lara’s gaze. Even though she did her best to fight it, there was something about the woman that rubbed her wrong, so she lifted an eyebrow and purposely shifted in her chair so she was closer to Jess. He turned toward her, no doubt surprised that her shoulder had bumped his, but she only smiled. Lara could see the smile. She couldn’t see Jess’s perplexed expression, which was probably a good thing.
“Everything okay?” he asked.
“Fine,” she said lightly. She wasn’t normally a person who played games, but Lara and Jess had broken up over a year ago and she didn’t appreciate being treated as if she were encroaching on Lara’s territory.
The looks continued and Emma stayed parked right where she was, close to Jess’s side. He was sturdy and warm, and when he laughed, she liked the way his body moved. He put a hand on the back of her chair at one point, seemingly unawar
e of the way it brought them even closer, focused as he was on another of Dermott’s hilarious stories. On the other side of the table, Lara held court, but she was watching Jess. Watching Em. It was getting old and she was debating about whether or not to address the issue when Jess nudged her. “Close?”
Len’s phrase. He’d never bothered asking if a person was close to leaving. Instead it was simply, “Close?”
Emma’s throat tightened a little as she nodded. She was ready to roll out her bed in the back seat of the truck and conk out. They had a four-hour drive ahead of them the next morning and would be up at the crack of dawn.
“It’s time.” She pushed back her chair and got to her feet.
“I’ll walk with you guys,” Lara said brightly, also rising.
“So will I.” Chase pulled his wallet out and fished for a tip.
“I figured you’d shut the place down,” Dermott grumbled to his friend.
“Too many miles tomorrow.” Chase set a five on the table. “But feel free to shut it down for me.”
Dermott let out a breath and pulled his own wallet out. The place was rocking and their table was commandeered almost before they were all to their feet.
“Are we getting old?” Chase asked after as they’d woven their way through the crowd and emerged in the much quieter street. The carnival lights were still on, but the rides were still.
“Never.” But there wasn’t a lot of conviction in Dermott’s voice. Chase and Dermott guys were close to thirty. Jess was thirty. Rough stock riding was a young man’s sport, which, she knew, was why Jess had finally broken free of his self-imposed life rules and regulations and given his first love the attention it deserved. That took guts, and Emma was impressed that he was actually doing what he’d talked about doing forever. He belonged on the pro circuit with his twin, because in Emma’s mind, he was better than Tyler. More consistent. More studied and exact in his approach to the sport.
Somehow Lara had managed to fall in step with Jess, so Emma walked between Chase and Dermott.
When they parted ways at the field where the competitors parked their trucks and trailers, Lara took Jess aside. Emma gave a mental shrug and started for the truck. She didn’t like the woman. She really didn’t. However, whatever went on between Lara and Jess...was none of her business.
She was reminding herself of that fact when the truck lights flashed and she turned to see Jess jogging to catch up with her.
“Escaped, I see.” He frowned at her as she pulled open the door. “Never mind.”
He rubbed a hand over his forehead. “You know...just because you think it, you don’t have to say it.”
She smiled at him over her shoulder. “Well aware. Because otherwise I would have told Lara to stop with the laser eyes.” She held up her hand, the tips of her thumb and forefinger separated by a fraction of an inch. “I was this close before the party broke up.”
Jess snorted. “Might be a good thing we left.”
“I’m not in the mood to deal with Lara’s delusions on top of everything else.”
He pulled in a long breath and rested a hand on the cab of the truck, effectively closing her in, making her suddenly all that more aware of him, and she wondered if he knew what he was doing.
“Yet you encouraged those delusions.”
She angled her chin at him. “What do you mean?”
“I mean that you’re competitive and so is she. And I was stuck in between you two tonight.”
She felt heat in her cheeks as his meaning became clear. “You think that I was treating you like a prize to be won?”
“Maybe.”
“Jess—”
“Lara and I are done. She knows that. But she likes attention and she likes to win. You were all but waving a red flag at her tonight.”
“It wasn’t because of you.”
“It was because you like to win, too.”
Emma let out a frustrated breath and studied the ground. He was right. Even if he wasn’t, she wanted to continue this journey and arguing with Jess wasn’t going to further her goal. “Okay. Maybe you have a point.”
“Maybe?”
Humble pie time. “I won’t mess with Lara again. And I appreciate you asking me to come with you. I haven’t been out much since Len died, and I enjoyed tonight, despite Lara.”
A shadow crossed his face. “You and Darion never went out?”
“Not with a raucous group. I didn’t feel like it and Darion—”
“Is quiet. I know.”
She glanced down at the toe of her bright red boot. She didn’t want to discuss Darion. Time to change topics again. “What time will you be banging on the window tomorrow?”
“Around five.”
Five hours of sleep? Probably more like four because she had things to work over in her head. She could handle it. “See you then.”
Jess gave her a long look, a look that sent an odd shiver through her middle, and even though he didn’t move, she felt as if he’d somehow gotten closer. “Right.”
He still wasn’t moving, and she was about to ask him what the deal was when he lowered his hand from the side of the truck and lightly cupped the side of her face.
“Thanks for not taking Lara down in the bar.”
He casually dropped his hand back to his side and, even though it was nothing—just a friendly touch—it felt different than when he’d touched her leg in the bar to get her attention, or when she’d leaned closer to him for effect.
“Anytime, Jess. Now honestly. I have to get some sleep.”
* * *
JESS COULD STILL feel a slight tingle in his fingertips from where he’d touched Emma’s cheek as he walked to the rear of the truck. A small caress, meant as a gesture of solidarity, but from the way her eyes had widened when he made contact, it was obvious she hadn’t taken it that way.
And it hadn’t felt that way.
He let out a sigh. Nothing was ever easy with Emma. He’d have to straighten this out later. Explain his intentions...
Or not.
Knowing Emma, it would only make things worse. Best to leave well enough alone and avoid touching her in the future.
He opened the camper and climbed inside, hung his hat on the hook next to the door, shrugged out of his clothes and crawled into his bunk in his underwear. No going commando on this trip—just in case he was called into action in the middle of the night.
He stretched out on the mattress, still feeling bad about Emma sleeping in the cramped back seat. He was too tall for the truck seat and she was too...Emma...to be in the camper with him. He’d never get any sleep.
And after what had just happened...
He flopped over on his back.
At least Em hadn’t taken Lara on in the bar. Lara was spoiled and she wanted him, but only because he’d broken things off with her, instead of it being the other way around. Like he’d told Emma, Lara didn’t like losing. She wanted another round so that she could walk away first.
Wasn’t going to happen.
He stared up at the ceiling. Had LeClair really won the day? He didn’t think so, but even if Tim had won, Jess had been in the money, which he needed to do—consistently—if he was going to reach his goal.
And if you don’t?
He’d saved a healthy amount of money by living in a camp trailer on an old homestead site in a field, so he had enough to tide him over until he found a new job. If things got really tight, he could move the trailer onto Ty and Skye’s place—although he’d rather not do that. He was the responsible twin, after all. What would it look like if Tyler started rescuing him?
Ty would love it.
Jess would not. He snapped on the dim bunk light and pulled his small notebook out of the cubby above his head and opened it to the goals page. He wa
s a goal-writer, much to his twin’s delight. Nothing Ty had liked better than to find his brother’s notebook and see what Jess had planned for his life. Ty’s goals had been more short-term and shoot-from-the-hip—things like survive the ride, party till dawn.
His goals were relatively simple for the next few months—win enough money to make the finals, keep expenses down, avoid getting hurt. He hadn’t written the last goal down, but it was always in his head. He turned to the last expense page, where he’d noted the amounts he had budgeted in one column and the actual amounts spent in another. So far, so good. If he kept this up, he’d be ahead of the game.
All was well.
He closed the book, tucked it away, shut off the light and rolled over onto his side, shifting his bruised leg to a more comfortable position. And the first thought that drifted into his head was the look on Emma’s face when he’d touched her cheek.
So much for being distracted by reviewing his plans and goals. This Emma thing... It was not working out the way he thought it was going to, and he was going to have to watch himself.
Len wouldn’t have liked it if Jess messed with his little sister.
* * *
JESS WAS QUIET the next morning. He headed out to get coffee and donuts for the drive while she stowed her sleeping bag and other gear in the camper. She locked the door and stripped down to take a quick shower, and when she left the camper, she found him sitting in the driver’s seat, the pastries and coffees on the center console beside him. At least that answered the question of who was driving.
“I got the jelly kind you like,” he said as he started the engine.
