‘No more dancing, Jessica,’ he whispered, waiting for me to look up again, knowing he noticed the difference in my eyes. ‘It’s fucking rough being alone sometimes. You don’t have to hide it, not from me.’
There were seconds before my first tear fell, my fingers tightening around his. Desperately, grasping at anything, I voiced the first thought that came to mind.
‘I’m sorry I revealed too much to them, about your tattoo—’
‘Honey, know that I say this with love for my sister, but so fucking help me I will kick her ass back over the state line when I see her next for pulling that stunt,’ he growled, rolling his eyes. ‘Listen to me,’ he urged, leaning forward, his other hand reaching out to softly pull one of my waves through his fingers. ‘The only issue I have with them knowing we’ve been more than friends is that they might think it’sonlythat. Because that’s all it’s ever been before, and . . .’
He stopped himself again, searching my face as deeply as the words he sought.
‘No dancing, cowboy,’ I whispered, watching as his eyes drifted to my lips.
‘. . . And you . . . you’re more than that. I don’t know what yet, but both of those times we had together . . . it wasn’t just a quick fuck.’
I stopped breathing, my body registering the panic in one part of my mind while the other part desperately wanted to lean forward, to meet his mouth with mine. I knew he felt the same, his hand now reaching up to brush my jaw –
A sudden noise jolted us out of it, my phone vibrating against the dash, threatening to fall off as it moved across the plastic.
I grabbed it, using the distraction to pull on my seatbelt as Jesse shifted back into his seat and settled at the wheel, moving us out of the car park.
My thoughts still racing, hands trembling slightly, I opened the screen to an email notification from . . . ‘The Old Jackson Courthouse, Wyoming’s Premier Wedding Venue’.
The uneasy feeling from last week, the result of the fireballs . . . everything came crashing back in like a direct hit to my temple. I read the message confirming my deposit and inviting me and my fiancé to come and view the venue, make all of the arrangements.
‘You okay?’ Jesse asked in the same quiet voice as before, frowning slightly at my expression.
I nodded quickly as I set down the phone and put my shades on – I was on the verge of telling him, but I lacked the guts. Did he even remember? Would it even bother him as it clearly did me? I was such a fucking idiot.
And as Lainey Wilson played, prompting him to throw the hint of a smile my way, I gathered up every last thread of feeling and shoved it all back down, aware of just how close I’d come to completely unravelling in front of him – to him.
CHAPTER9
HESTIA
I spent the next few days doing anything I could to not spiral.
The sensation, deep down, was ever present, as though that moment with Jesse in the truck had opened something that now refused to close. The contents were beginning to leak bit by bit, and it was only constant activity, wearing myself out to exhaustion every day, that allowed any kind of relief from it.
I’d thrown myself into learning how to care for Luci, asking Lottie with as much nonchalance as I could muster whether I could help around the ranch. She’d heard my desperation; I knew she had. But she also knew to leave me to it, for now. There was a big cookout coming up this weekend for the ranch guests: a full house of ten, plus all of the newer staff who’d come on board since Lottie had taken over.
‘Hestia, get in here – I want you to meet someone,’ she called as I emerged from my room – her room, technically. Since I’d arrived, she and Cole had bunked up, an arrangement that seemed to have pressed fast-forward on what was already a breakneck romance.
As I stuck my head around the door she smiled and waved me in. She was sitting in an armchair by the far window, laptop resting on her knees. The room had the unmistakable feel of a bachelor pad with ‘Lottifications’ everywhere. I suppressed a chuckle, remembering how she’d done the same to our shared flat at uni – carefully placed soft furnishings and dried and silk flowers intertwining with my stuffed rats in various jaunty poses, the results of my brief taxidermy hobby.
‘I’m catching up with Lil,’ she said, grinning and moving over in the chair so I could squeeze in next to her. I did so, looking up to see her blonde twin on the screen. ‘Lil, this is Hes!’
I looked back at Lottie, then at her cousin again, leaning forward slightly. I’d seen a few photos, noticed the family resemblance, but never seen them together.
‘Am I high or something?’ I asked to their shared bemusement. ‘Sorry – hey Lil, fucking awesome ranch by the way – but seriously, you guys look . . . Are you definitely not sisters?’
They both laughed, Lil raising her eyebrows. She was in an unmistakably English room with high ceilings and a vast period fireplace in the corner of the screen. There were even Union Jack cushions on the sofa next to her.
‘Well, I wouldn’t put it past either of our daddies, now, would you, Lottie?’ Lil asked, still laughing.
‘It’d have to be yours, then,’ Lottie replied, trying to straighten her face. ‘Your mum’s got better taste.’
I joined in at that; the thought of Lottie’s charmless dad worming his way into the life of two hot women was beyond reasonable odds.
‘So, I hear you’ve already bought a horse and made friends with one of my cowboys, huh?’ Lil asked, reaching for a mug beside her, tendrils of steam rising from it. ‘You another fake city girl like Lottie here? That’s good going.’
