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I’m talking like I know the girl. Like I trust her.
This girl doesn’t need to know the things I’ve done. Abandoning Jack. Abandoning my brothers for vengeance. That dark night we found Wells that changed our lives forever.
She needs to keep the fuck away from me. This bright, beautiful girl never needs to see inside my darkness.
I retract my hand. “Ranch accident.”
Her gaze narrows like she knows I’m lying.
A snort from the pen has us glancing over. I level a finger at a big black bastard slowly sauntering our way. “And that…is the last bull I ever rode. Whiskey Business.” I reach over and run a hand down one of his long, pendulous ears. “I’ve ridden him three times, and he bucked me off twice.”
Her eyebrow arches. “And you rescued him?”
“Had to. No ill will toward him. We were both doing our jobs.” I rub a hand down my jaw, face her. “Darlin’, rodeo is a sport of skill, but it is also of the heart. You have to be brave to ride those bulls. Be the best. Look that bull in the eye and forgive it, even if it tosses you on your ass.”
“Why’d you quit?”
“I was too beat up, too old to keep going anyway. Saw it as a good time to retire. To help my brothers.”
“Which brother helped you? When you had a panic attack?”
Everything inside me clenches. Not ready. Not fucking ready to talk about Jack.
And yet…
When I turn my head, I find the deep, rich amber of her eyes inches away. Damn if the whiskey burn of her gaze doesn’t sear. Doesn’t carve open something inside of me.
“My brother.” My voice sounds like sandpaper. “Jack.”
“Jack?” Her brow furrows in a question, then her eyes shoot open in realization. The blood drains from her face. “Oh, no. Oh, Cole.”
“He was the oldest. My best friend.” I probe the dark edge of my memory, every nerve in my body on edge. Not sure why I keep talking, why I’m telling her this, it goes against every instinct in me to let her in, but I do.
I take a breath to fight off the tightness in my chest.
“He died in a bull-riding accident on the circuit. He was trampled to death.” My jaw works as I glance at her. “He was only twenty-two.”
It’s all I can get out. All I can give.
Delilah’s eyes get a shiny, faraway look to them. Her lower lip trembles. “I’m sorry, Cole. I am so sorry.”
That’s when I realize she’s off the fence. She’s beside me, her hand on my arm. That beautiful face tilted my way, her cheeks damp with tears.
I’m not prepared. For this conversation. For this girl.
But it’s out, and she’s here, and suddenly everything feels unstoppable.
She feels unstoppable.
Maybe that’s the reason I’m letting her in. Building trust to get her story. To protect my family from the trouble she’s brought our way.
But I don’t know if I buy my own bullshit. Not anymore.
Not when I’m talking to this girl like I know her.
I back away from Delilah. The temptation.
“Didn’t tell you that to make you cry,” I gruff. “It’s just the fact of the matter.”
