‘Bailey—’ His voice wraps around me, just as surely as if he’d reached out and grabbed my wrist. ‘I was only joking.’
He’s always joking. If being defensive is my go-to move, then making light of everything is his.
‘Yeah, I know.’ I take a sip of my wine. ‘It’s fine. Let’s go back to your friends.’
Beau
But they’re not my friends, really, so much as guys I work with. Guys I respect and value and want the best for, but when it comes to friends, there’s a list with fewer than ten people on it. Ten friends—as in the kinds of people who’d lay down their lives for you, who you’d trust with anything and everything—and they’re all pretty much back in Goodnight, the town nearest to our ranch. The Callahans, my brothers, Cassidy, Beth, Mackenzie, Caleb, a couple of the guys in town, and that’s it.Where I might make everyone feel like we’re best buddies, I know the truth about friendship: it’s rare.
I don’t know why I’m thinking about that as Bailey leads the way through the bar, between people, back to the group.
Katie—the woman who hitched her way with me—is talking to Jock Jeffries, and I’m gladder than I can say that her attention’s shifted. Bailey might have said she wasn’t jealous, but I can’t shake the sense that the other woman’s presence is pissing her right off. And in my experience, that tends to be for one reason alone. Then again, I don’t really know Bailey, and I shouldn’t be making assumptions about her.
I have this feeling with her though, that I’m constantly on the back foot. Usually people are my jam, and I just know how to talk to them, to make them smile, whereas Bailey is harder to work out than a Rubik’s cube in the dark. One minute I feel like she’s ready to fall into my arms and beg me to make love to her, and the next she’s pushing me away faster than anything, all cold reserve and cynical detachment.
Frustration gnaws at my gut, along with a healthy dose of that same impatience that was hounding me earlier.
The song switches to one with a slower pace and the crowd stops shouting along, softening back to the hum of rowdy conversation. I watch as Bailey starts up a chat with another rider, nodding as he talks, smiling in that way she has that’s pure professional-reporter mode, then she angles her body away from me, so I stop seeing her smile, except in my mind.
It’s the first sense I have that I might be getting into something over my head, something I should be smart enough to avoid.Because no one’s ever gotten under my skin, and I don’t intend to let that change anytime soon.
We only stay for one drink. It was my plan all along, but it’s Bailey who finishes her drink then slips to my side, her eyes holding mine for the briefest moment before glancing toward the door. ‘I’m gonna get an Uber back to the hotel,’ she murmurs, softly enough that I need to dip my head a little to hear her properly.
‘I’ll take you.’
‘No, no.’ Her eyes fly to mine. ‘Don’t let me pull you away.’ Her lips curve into another tight smile. I want to kiss it right off her face. ‘You’re the man of the hour. Everyone’s talking about your season, how well you’re doing.’
I brush her compliment aside. ‘I never stay for more than one drink. I’m ready to go.’
‘Beau, don’t be dumb,’ she says, and even though she doesn’t roll her eyes, I can hear it in her voice.
‘Who you callin’ dumb?’ I ask, ignoring the flex of something in my chest.
‘You know what I mean. I can make my own way. I’m twenty-four years old; I’ve managed all my life without some big, bulky bull rider taking me places.’
If I didn’t already know I was in over my head, then the surge of protective instincts that riot inside of me at her statement would have made it abundantly clear. I keep my tone light—hiding in the frivolous is how I roll. ‘You’re welcome to catch an Uber, beautiful, but I’m heading that way anyhow.’ I shrug. ‘Up to you.’
To underscore that, I place my half-empty beer glass down on a nearby table. ‘I’m off,’ I say to the others.
Katie glances in my direction, then Bailey’s, a small frown on her lips. I touch the brim of my hat. ‘Night, all.’
Consternation is clear on Bailey’s features as I rejoin her side. She doesn’t say anything, until we get out of the bar and the quiet of the night enfolds us, a welcome reprieve from all that talking and music.
‘This really isn’t necessary.’ The way she keeps doing that—pushing me away—is driving me crazy, and despite the fact I’m usually the guy you can rely on for a quick joke, something inside of me snaps.
‘Bailey James, has anyone ever told you that you can be completely insufferable?’
She stares at me, obviously surprised by the question.
‘I just don’t like you waiting all alone out here. Is that a crime?’
‘Treating me like some kind of child?’
I exhale, trying to get a hold of my temper. I’m known for that, on the tour. I’m the guy who’s unshakable. Unflappable. But I don’t feel remotely like either of those two things now.
‘You and I are stayin’ at the same hotel, right?’ I demand, moving toward my truck and opening the front passenger door for her. ‘I’m going there now. You’re going there now. There is no earthly reason for you to take an Uber.’
‘You’re only leaving because you feel some completely unnecessary obligation to look out for me, and I hate that,’ she says, but she does at least start walking toward me.
