She contorts herself in a way that makes my back ache just watching as she spins in a circle like a dog chasing her tail. “You did not.”
“I didn’t mean to. I mean, I did, but I didn’t think through the paint handprint part.”
She harrumphs and storms off towards the bathroom.
“So, just to be clear, you don’t have a spanking kink?” I ask, poking my head around the corner.
She throws a lotion bottle out the bathroom door at my head. “I didn’t hear a no.” I laugh, dodging the second object she throws at me.
Takeout bags crinkle as Jessie digs around for more curly fries. We’ve finished painting for the night, and now we’re sitting on the dining room floor, leaning against the wall, eating from Styrofoam containers. The kitchen and dining room are still covered in plastic, and cabinet doors are drying on every available surface. We can’t go to the living room because we’re both covered in paint.
It’s been a good day. The cabinets look great, and Jessie seems lighter, like a small weight has been lifted off her shoulders.
“What’s it like?” She rolls her head against the wall to face me.
I crinkle my brow in response.
“Traveling, seeing the country,” she clarifies.
I swallow, thinking about my answer. I’ve never really thought about it. It’s just what I do. “It’s cool, but we don’t get to see much. Being in a different town each night doesn’t leave a lot of time for sightseeing. Someday, I want to enter fewer rodeos and go see some sights between rides.”
“What would you like to see first?”
“Hm. I’d probably spend time in the Pacific Northwest. I love it up there—it’s my favorite place to rodeo. It has great hiking and several underrated state and national parks.”
“So, why are you here?”
My brows pull together again.
Sensing it, she expands, “Why’d you move to Colorado? You could go anywhere, but you came here.”
“Because Knox came here. He’s my family,” I answer without hesitation.
She blinks at me. “I can understand that. I’ve always wanted to travel, but I could never leave Cottonwood Valley. This is home, but I’d love to see the country someday.”
“Where would you go first?”
“Maybe Utah—they have Arches National Park and a few other cool things to see.”
“I love Utah. They have great rodeos—Ogden, Salt Lake City, and Spanish Fork.”
“What’s riding a bull like? Is it all a blur and extreme adrenaline rush?”
I chuckle. “Adrenaline rush for sure. We’re all adrenaline junkies. But it’s not really a blur. Everything moves fast and you don’t have time to think, but at the same time, a million thoughts cross your mind at once. You can see everything, but it’s kind of like watching things unfold in fast forward. It’s tough to put into words. I think that’s why so many people say they want to try it—it’s unlike anything else. You can try skydiving, whitewater rafting, or motocross, but nothing compares to tying yourself to a two-thousand-pound animal that could kill you.”
Jessie absorbs every word. She’s genuinely interested, and it feels good.
“I know we’re either crazy or stupid, maybe a little of both. Ever since I got on my first bull, I knew I’d never get enough of it.”
“You’re right.” She nods adamantly, lips pressed tightly, fighting a smile. “You are stupid.”
“Hey!” I spin and start tickling her rib cage.
She laughs, squeals, and squirms until she’s begging for mercy. “I’m kidding, I’m kidding.” She huffs, out of breath. Her head falls against my shoulder.
We sit in silence for a few long minutes, comfortable with each other in the quiet.
“What’s being a nurse like?” I ask.
