His gaze became fierce, burning my insides. In no more than a couple of moments he released me, gently moving me inside as the women turned back to us. My heart was pounding as I sat at the table, accepting Belle’s offer to add things to my plate.
‘I think the better story is Jesse’s first bull ride itself,’ Jean began.
‘Jesus . . . Mom,’ Jesse chuckled, piling up his plate, stealing the bread right from under Clara’s nose with a smirk. ‘You three are determined to get it all out today.’
‘Seems like you beat us to it, brother,’ Clara countered, and even I couldn’t help myself – joining them as they all cackled.
‘Like I said – firing line,’ Jesse said to me with a pointed expression, tearing off a chunk of bread and aiming it at Clara’s head.
‘I’m sorry, Hestia,’ she said between laughs, deflecting his missile. ‘I’ll stop.’
I shook my head as Jesse protested at me receiving the apology. ‘You’re fine. I was wondering how Jesse was ever kept in check as a kid, but I get it now.’
‘Yeah, some might even say it drove me to bull riding,’ he grumbled, not quite able to hide his own smile. ‘Less of a pain in my ass being trampled by a three-thousand-pound death trap than listening to these two.’
‘Sounds like a chicken and egg situation,’ I mused, catching Clara’s eye, open curiosity in her stare. ‘Does the crazy come before or after you get trampled by the three-thousand-pound death trap?’
‘I like her,’ Jean announced to Jesse as both sisters laughed, Clara nodding at me in approval.
‘I used to,’ Jesse agreed, matching my grin as I attempted to focus on eating some of the bread Clara had passed to me, failing miserably as I took him in instead.
‘So what happened on the first bull ride, then?’ I asked eventually, suddenly aware that all three women had seen our shared look and were now glancing at each other.
‘I swear,’ Belle began, clearly relishing being able to retell it again. ‘If only I’d recorded it . . . funniest damn thing I’ve ever seen. The ride itself was good, whatever,’ she said, waving it away as Jesse held up his hands at her dismissal of his triumph. ‘He made it past the bell, but when he jumped off, it was like he forgot there was still a bull in there with him – and that bastard was nasty. Jesse just stood there, waving at the crowd, listening to the bunnies whistling and hollerin’ his name,’ she giggled as Jesse scoffed. ‘But when the bull turned and came right back for him, head down, one of the wranglers had to haul him up and over her horse – his ass in the air, legs jiggling as she rode him out of the ring.’
She dissolved into giggles as the rest of us joined in.
Jesse shrugged.
‘Won the tournament, though.’
Another couple of hours later, the chat settling down and heat removed from Jesse, I was gently grilled by Jean about all aspects of my life.
I didn’t mind – she was easy to talk to. I’d liked her instantly, but seeing her inside their dynamic, it hit differently. The way Jesse doted on her, the small gestures of affection between them, hinted at the kind of parental relationship I’d only dreamed of.
‘He’s been my rock, this whole time,’ Jean admitted when she mentioned her illness, early-onset Parkinson’s. ‘You all have,’ she said to the three of them. ‘It’s a pain in the ass having to slow down and rely on people, you know? But today has been great. I’m sure glad he met you, honey. Good friends are important.’ She looked me over, noting my hesitation, the inference in her words. ‘How long you staying? Come see me again, won’t you, before you head home?’
From her, said in that way, the consequence of even my extended trip coming to an end suddenly hit me. Of possibly not seeing her ever again after that . . . of not seeing Jesse.
‘Definitely,’ I said, matching the tightness of the hug she now gave me as the three siblings stood by. ‘But only if we can take it up a notch next time and get thereallyembarrassing childhood photos out.’
We left amid their laughter, walking back out into the blinding sun of the car park.
‘Thank you,’ he said, as we reached his truck and climbed in, waiting as the engine sprang into life, the A/C working overtime to cool the stifling air.
‘What for?’ I asked, genuinely puzzled.
He opened his mouth for a moment, then paused, as if rethinking.
‘What?’ I asked, unable to hold back from asking. ‘Tell me. We’ve . . . we’re dancing around each other,’ I admitted, barely able to hold on as he looked at me straight. He knew it too. ‘Why are you thanking me? I loved meeting them.’
He sighed, eventually looking down. Then, as if he couldn’t help it either, he reached out for my left hand, holding it in his own.
‘For doing something for me. That you didn’t have to do, that could’ve been really difficult. I guess I’m not used to that . . . the boot’s usually on the other foot, y’know?’ He looked up as his fingers brushed mine, goosebumps forming as I read his expression. It was that fierce intensity again, his eyes molten. ‘Not that I mind. I’ll be there for my mom, sisters, Lil, Cole . . . anyone that needs me,’ he added softly. ‘But it’s a fucking weird feeling when someone else does it just for you.’
His words were a gut punch. There was sadness right behind them, a loneliness that spoke so directly to me, at my core. To my absolute horror, I felt emotion gathering, rising up and threatening to form tears.
‘I get it,’ I murmured, bottling out of his gaze and staring at our hands instead. ‘I’ve felt the same way.’
