“I’m so overjoyed right now I’ll even take one for the team.” Jake motioned for us to make a run for it. “The flag’s inside the barn. Cade and Kelsey are on the left side, but I haven’t seen any activity over there for a while. I didn’t know I’d find it right here.”
“Shut up, Jake.” I automatically grabbed Tessa’s hand before dropping it like fire. Without sparing me a glance, she took a step away from me and grabbed a rock to hold onto. I did the same, feeling like a first-class jerk as I did so.
We made a run for it at about the same time Jake turned toward the four-wheelers closing in and walked out with his hands in the air, dramatic to the end.
And when I saidwe made a run for it, I should have said,Tessa made a run for it. I was somewhere between a hobble and a punk kid pulling up his pants at every step. She reached the barn before me and yanked open the door. The flag was sitting on the old milk tank. Was it really that easy? Tessa grabbed the flag, and we walked back outside.
We turned the corner to the dark side of the barn where closer inspection revealed a sleeping Cade and Kelsey, sitting on a hay bale, holding hands, with their heads resting against the barn, clearly not giving a hoot about anything this game had to offer.
Just like I predicted. Nobody cared.
We should have never gotten out of that ditch.
Me: Check-in time, Jailbait.
Tess: I’m not sure you can be trusted.
Me: What on earth do you mean?
Tessa: I think you know.
Me: First up, no more running. Especially on a date with me. It will kill you one day.
Tessa: That jaunt back to your barn? It felt more like a brisk walk to me.
Me: You wound me, woman. You got anything?
Tessa: No more kissing?
Me: What’s with the question mark?
Tessa: Typo?
Me: Interesting.
Tessa:
Logan: I’m leaving for the cattle drive in two days, Jailbait. Stay out of trouble.
Tessa: Have fun.
21
Tessa
“Iwant out,” I told Jake over the phone two days later.
“Who is this?”
“You heard me, Jake.”
Jake sighed. I heard a low rumble in the background. It sounded like he was on a tractor. “What do you mean you want out?”
“It means I don’t want to play this game anymore.”
“It’s not a game. It’s a bet.”
I shoved a piece of warm cookie into my mouth before scooping the fresh cookies off of the pan and onto a cooling rack. “Betting is a game. A stupid, dumb game. And I knew it was a stupid game when I agreed to it. And boys are dumb.”
