"Kidding, Wyatt." She waves her hand in the air between us, a gold bracelet with a four-leaf clover charm glinting in the overhead light. "You're the best of the bunch."
"Right." I take some bread.
She chews and swallows. "You are. I'm not kidding. Wes was always so single-minded, and, you know,gone. And Warner was great too, don't get me wrong. But he was always wrapped up in his own thing." She smiles shyly, and I see the little girl she once was. I remember so much of her childhood, because of our age difference. She's the reason I love kids. "So when I say you're the best of the bunch, I'm not kidding."
"Thanks, Jes." My chest tightens. Nobody tells me I'm the best, their favorite. Wes is my dad's favorite, it's clear as day. Jessie is my mom's favorite, for reasons so obvious they're not worth listing. Warner is the entire town's favorite because he's fucking Warner.
Warner and Wes would tell you I'm my mom's favorite, but I think she just has a soft spot for me because it's so obvious how much my dad prefers everyone but me.
Sometimes I wonder if everyone knows. Does this entire town, my whole family, know that my parents wished desperately for a girl and got me instead? And if they don't know, do they guess? The signs are all there.
Fucking depressing. I don't want to think about this anymore. I sit up straight, making it so I can't see Jo anymore, and put all my attention on Jessie. She tells me about school, the classes she's signed up to take for her junior year starting in August, and a guy she met. I don't really want to hear about the guy, but I do my best to listen and not make a face. I ask her where she got her lucky charm bracelet, and she tells me it's from the new guy.
Our dinners arrive and we tuck in. All the hard work on Jo's ranch has made me into a starving teenager. I eat everything and finish Jessie's. There's movement in the corner booth, shifting, and Jo slides out, making it impossible not to see her. She's wearing a skirt, black and short, tight around her thighs, with one of those T-shirts she favors tucked haphazardly into the front of one side. She adjusts the skirt, her eyes sweeping the room and landing on mine. She stills. Her lips part. She recovers, swallows. If I pressed my nose to the skin by her ear, I'd smell citrus and flowers.Impossible.
She comes my way. Jared slips an arm around her, guiding her. She halts for the shortest second, and our gazes meet in the pause. Then she's gone, passing me by, leaving behind an earthquake in my heart that's immeasurable by the Richter scale.
"Wow," Jessie murmurs, drawing out the vowel. "I felt that."
It takes me a moment to climb from my state of overwhelm. When I make it out of the fog, I ask her what she means.
Her hands flit through the space around her head. "The air. It's thick. Serious vibes."
I make a dismissive sound with my mouth. "Right. Hate vibes. Jo doesn't have a very high opinion of me."
One side of Jessie's face scrunches. "You sure about that?"
I thank the server when she drops the check and reach for my wallet. "Pretty sure. If you'd seen the way she looked at me yesterday, you'd agree."
We're on the way out after payment is complete, but Jessie hovers near the front door. "I see something happening with you and her."
"Are you suddenly prophetic?"
She plucks a red and white mint candy from a bowl on the hostess stand and unwraps it. "Yep. Just call me 'the prophet' from now on."
I sling my arm around her shoulders and steer her out the door. "Nah, little sister. We call you Calamity, and for damn good reason." As a little girl, she was walking chaos and cursed like a sailor.
She shrugs me off when we get to the sidewalk. "I don't think I deserve that nickname."
I give her a 'come on' face, and she laughs. "Okay, maybe I do."
I go toward my truck, but Jessie grabs my arm and tugs. "Let's bring dessert to Mom and Dad since they wouldn't let us do anything fun for their anniversary." She leads me down the street, but I'm not sure where we're going because The Bakery is closed, and so is Marigolds. I don't think our parents want bags of candy from the Merc. Maybe we can talk Tenley into giving up one of those jars of spicy peach rings she's so stingy with.
I put on the brakes and turn back, saying, "Let's go back and ask Ten…" The remainder of my sentence dies on my lips. Across the street, in the glow of a streetlight, Jared stands with Jo, his lips on hers.
"Wyatt, come on." Jessie tugs on my arm.
I look down, meet her gaze, and see that she's not at all surprised to see Jo and Jared. She was trying to keep me from seeing them.
What's happening across the street is like a car accident. I don't want to see it but I look again anyway. The kiss breaks. Jared lifts his head. Looks straight at me.
Motherfucker.
The instinct is there, strong and pungent, to stalk across the street, grab him by the throat, and stake my claim. But this isn't the African savanna, I'm not a male lion, and Jo isn't territory to own.
He's holding her in his arms, keeping her facing away from me. I keep my eyes fixed on his, and without conscious thought, my chin lifts.
Jessie tugs me once more, harder this time. I allow her to pull me away, breaking eye contact first. It feels like I've lost. I don't do well with losing.
