She snorts as she steps closer, and her warm-amber and crushed-jasmine scent that's always made my knees weak envelops me. She teases, "Not sure your ass has ever had character."
"You've forgotten." I stand up slowly, facing her fully. I turn, pushing out my hip. I boast, "This is class A character."
She rolls her eyes, but her cheeks pink up. "Is that what we're calling it?"
"Sugar, this ass is a national treasure. You just forgot how lucky you were to admire it," I tease.
"Don't confuse me rubbing balm on your bruises as admiration," she fires back with a smile, batting her eyelashes.
"I was referring to the years you spent tracing it with those sweet hands. Don't pretend you didn't honor every inch," I taunt.
Her cheeks turn beet red. She laughs. "You're impossible."
I tug her toward me, and palm the back of her head, tilting it. "Did you miss me?"
"Always," she replies, her smile softening.
"I'm leaving later." The words come out heavy.
"So am I," she states, the humor gone from her expression.
"It's going to suck not seeing you," I add, wondering how I'll survive being away from her.
She nods. "Agreed."
Jax got me into a rodeo in Arizona. Willow's riding team will be at one in New Mexico. It'll be the first time we've really been apart since I got back.
Mason's voice booms, "Don't worry. We'll keep you entertained."
I look over my shoulder. "What do you mean?"
He grins. "You didn't think Jagger and I would let you have all the fun, did you?"
My pulse beats faster. I cock an eyebrow. "What are you talking about?"
"Just what I said. But you're in the back with Jagger. I'm calling shotgun," he claims.
"I'm confused," I admit. Things have been better between us, but they aren't the same. Mason and I are on better footing than Jagger and I.
Mason grabs a tool from the chest and then points at Willow. "Explain it to him. I don't have time to dummy things down." He steps outside.
"Jagger is coming with me?" I question.
She shrugs. "Sounds like it."
"Did you arrange this?" I ask.
She shakes her head. "No."
A hint of anxiety pricks at me. Back in the day, I would have given my right foot for Jagger to go on the road with me. But things are different now.
I'm different.
It's like Willow can read my mind. Worry fills her expression at our shared concern. "You're going to have to tell my brothers. Probably best to discuss it before you leave."
I take a deep breath, holding it in as I grind my molars. It's not that I didn't know this day was coming, but the shame and disappointment in myself are still fresh wounds.
I'm a gambling addict. That means no casinos. No racetracks. No bets on the side while sitting at the bar. The thirty-five days of Gamblers Anonymous meetings I've attended have taught me a lot. Yet there's still so much I need to learn and come to terms with.
