‘If you hang on that long, yeah.’
‘Much easier than a wedding, then,’ I countered, releasing his hand to circle my mug.
He considered me for a moment, smiling as he added cream and sugar to his.
‘Okay, how about this – would you rather go to another wedding, or try barrel racing in front of the rodeo crowd?’
I laughed, the thought of desperately clinging on to Buckeye in the way Bailey did so deeply unlikely.
‘You mean, fall on my ass in the dirt in front of hundreds of people, or a wedding?’ I corrected, grinning as he shrugged. ‘Ugh. Okay – barrel racing. It’d be over quicker.’
He nodded. ‘Would you rather . . . go to a wedding or sky-dive? No, wait – what do they call it? Base jumping – right off the top of the tallest mountains back there.’
He pointed out towards the jagged peaks in the distance.
I shuddered.
‘No way. I can’t do heights,’ I admitted, watching as he reacted with surprise.
‘So, heights, huh? That your limit?’
‘I mean, don’t ask me to climb into a confined space with a bunch of spiders, but yeah. I’m sure there’s no better view than those mountains . . .’ I paused as our food arrived, glancing with alarm at the volume of it – pancakes, eggs, bacon, fried potatoes . . . ‘But don’t ever ask me to climb one.’
‘Okay, last one,’ he warned, offering me the maple syrup before taking it for himself.
‘When do I get a turn?’ I asked, my heart stuttering at his smile in response.
‘When you’ve answered my last one. Truthfully.’
I sipped my coffee, waiting. He stopped for a moment, looking me straight in the eye.
‘Would you rather . . . live here in Jackson, or in London?’
The insinuation was like a bell ringing directly in my ears, the complexity of the answer too much to distil into one word.
I opened my mouth, then closed it, knowing what it would mean, what he would take from it. A promise, one I didn’t know if I could keep.
‘Jackson,’ I whispered, feeling his legs grip against mine. ‘London made me, it’s my home, but . . .’
‘No mountains, right?’ he added softly, picking up his fork. ‘Or Molly’s.’
I managed a half-smile, grateful for the steer away from the depths.
‘No mountains,’ I replied, tilting my head. ‘No Molly’s, bulls or bunnies.’
After we’d finished, me swearing I wouldn’t need to eat again until tomorrow, he gave me a curious glance.
‘So whatisin London? Why live there?’
I leant back against the padded back of the booth, somehow knowing and not knowing the answer.
‘It’s where I’ve always been, since I left home anyway,’ I began, my head straying back to my old flat, the studio. ‘It’s where Cal and I started the business, where our friends are . . .’ I tailed off, realizing how I’d worded that, knowing he was too perceptive to let it pass.
‘Are you two still . . . friends?’ he asked, a sudden hardness to his jaw as I considered it.
‘We’re not in a relationship, Jesse,’ I clarified. ‘That ended way back. It’s the business that’s kept us working together.’
I sighed, suddenly plunged back into thoughts of having to return to it, of dealing with Cal again. As Jesse leant over, brow creased, my phone buzzed. Confused, knowing it was only set to vibrate with calls, I turned it over to see ‘Diane’ on the screen.
