Chapter 37 Jed and Etta #2
Our space shrinks together, and I love it. I want to wrap my arm around her shoulder and let her sink into my side like my brothers and their women.
But I don’t. We have time, and this is not the right place.
“Jed was all pride and duty. Etta was wild as a storm brewin’ on the prairie.” Bronx continues the story in an almost lulling tone, so unlike him.
It’s slow and controlled, like the way he turns the roasting stick, moving it ever so slightly, adjusting the distance from the fire to get an even roast. His eyes focus on the softening treat.
“But love’s a funny thing.” He reaches for his beer, takes a long drag, while steadying the marshmallows over the flames. “Love doesn’t care ‘bout what’s right or wrong.”
His words hit home. He isn’t wrong.
“She’d sneak out past midnight, bringin’ jars of firewater.”
I remember the midnight meets when Jade snuck out of her house, and I out of mine. I also remember how hard it had been to convince her. She’d been such a goody-two-shoes, and I’d loved that rule-following girl.
“And Jed.” Bronx inhales through his teeth.
The marshmallows catch fire. He slowly brings the end of the stick to his mouth and blows out the fire with ease. A smile tugs at his lips at the perfectly golden-brown exterior form.
I’m with Josie on this one. Can we have any other person tell story time?
“Jed didn’t say a word about her side business, ‘cause no matter how hard he tried, his heart was hers.” Bronx pulls the marshmallow off the roasting stick and traps it between two graham crackers.
My heart has always belonged to Jade. I’ve known it forever. That’s why I never dated. That’s why I made my heart a cold, emotionless vessel because I was willing to live alone rather than with a woman who would never have my whole heart.
“Now, folks around Rocky Ridge Creek didn’t take kindly to love like that. The lawman and outlaw kin.”
Alright, he’s a good storyteller. I’ll give it to him.
“It’s a betrayal deeper than any gunshot wound.”
His story sounds too close to the life we’ve lived, like a Wilde and a Fox. My eyes find Jade. She sees it too—the truth behind our past.
Bronx leans forward, voice low and steady. “One night, word got out the feds were comin’ to bust the whole thing.”
He presses another marshmallow between two more marshmallows, squishing it just right so it oozes out the edges a little.
He holds one out to Josie. “You want one or not?”
She takes it.
He grins while passing Celi the second. Then he snaps another graham cracker in half and starts the s’mores process again.
“Etta begged Jed to run with her. To leave it all behind. But duty”—he snaps apart two pieces of the chocolate bar—“duty’s a chain you can’t break.”
He pokes the fire bed with the poker stick, mixing the coals.
“So Jed Buckley stayed. But Etta Kilner? She slipped away, takin’ all those secrets and that firewater with her.”
At the mention of a Buckley and a Kilner, everyone goes wild, talking over one another.
“That’s a load of crap.” Dean shakes his head as the rest of the group exchanges incredulous looks.
“You really expect us to believe a Buckley dated a Kilner?” Hannah’s voice is half-amused and half-doubtful.
“I’m telling you, it happened.” The objections drown out Bronx’s voice. “This is a story we share around the fireplace at Christmas,” he rumbles.
“There’s no way that’s a true story,” Josie says. “It’s the most ridiculous thing I’ve ever heard.”
Bronx continues cooking his marshmallows. “Don’t kill the messenger.”
But all I can think is that my brothers and I are not the first Wildes to love a Fox, so how far-fetched is it for a Buckley to fall head over heels for a Kilner?
“Some say she’s still hidin’ ‘round these hills.” Bronx lifts a s’more to his mouth. “If you listen close, you might hear the jar of firewater rattlin’ in the wind.”
His eyes light up as he takes the first bite, a satisfied grin spreading across his face. But I’ll bet it’s more to do with the reaction of everyone.
“Bullshit.”
“Worst story ever.”
“Next.”
“Hell no. I ain’t finished,” Bronx roars. “Now”—his tone is low again—“Jed and Etta were tied together by a love that broke every law. And sometimes, on nights like this, you can still feel their story whisperin’ through the trees.”
“Shut up.” Wyatt tosses an empty bag of chips at him.
He catches it. Sticky marshmallow strands cling to Bronx’s fingers from the bag.
“I reckon some loves are worth breakin’ every rule for. Even if it means losin’ it all.”
Did Bronx just look at me?
“He’s sappy too,” Josie mutters. “Whose pants are you trying to get into?”
“I don’t discuss such topics with a kid.”
“I am not a kid.” She kicks him again, and he chokes on the mouthful. “My turn.”
As Josie starts into another fireside story, I can’t be bothered to listen. I’m not a socializer. I can hardly make it through campfires with just my brothers or the ranch hands and their families.
This right here? This is a little overboard for me. My bed is calling. My tent is calling. A good walk would also do the trick. But I don’t want to spend one second away from Jade, not when we’ve already lost so much time.
Never once do I overlook her thigh pressing against mine, or her side rubbing mine. We’re close on this folding sofa.
So close.
And I never want to move.
Which is why when Levi and Hope retire for the night, I don’t take that as my cue and hop up. Then, like there’s some memo we didn’t get, the rest get up, one by one, and take off, leaving just me and Jade.
It’s fast and quick.
Like a silent clock chimed, and they all jumped to their feet.
“This was intentional,” I say when the last of them are gone.
She smiles up at me. “By you?”
“My guess is, since the Quylt sisters and town council decided to room with our mothers at an Airbnb, someone had to play the matchmakers. So, they called in our siblings.”
She raises an eyebrow. “You sure you’re not in on it? Trapping me here with you all cozy and alone?”
Fuck, I’m not opposed to it.
I can’t help but chuckle at the way she’s looking at me, all sharp edges and fire.
“Trapping you? I don’t believe anyone can trap Jade Fox.”
I’ll be lucky to survive this ‘cozy’ little setup with her so fucking close and us not sure where we’re at.
She leans into the corner, twisting her body to get a better look at me. She curls her feet up in front of her, and it puts distance between us.
I don’t like it.
Her lips curve into that sly, confident smile I’ve always loved. “I’m not some damsel to be caught in your little ‘cozy’ trap.”
This side of her is my favorite. I love the sass. The tease. The flirt. All bundled into a heat that radiates off her.
It’s intoxicating.
“It’s not my trap,” I clarify. “And I’ll be lucky if I survive this setup at all.” My voice is lower, edging into the territory I’m not sure we’re ready to cross.
“Is that so?”
My breathing hitches. Her flirting is a whole new level of turn-on. Her big, round eyes and sultry look are dynamite.
“With you so damn close.” The growl comes from deep in my chest. “I’m not sure what’s more dangerous: the fire or your smile?”
She raises an eyebrow, her grin only growing. “You worried I might bite, cowboy?”
That last word out of her mouth makes me want to show her exactly the cowboy I can be.
I shrug, playing it off like I’m not affected, but she’s got me on edge now.
Wanting.
Hard.
Ready to explode a load right here.
And I doubt I’m doing a great job of hiding it.
“Nah, I’ve got no problem with a little bite. Just didn’t know you had it in you.”
But I do.
Damn it, I know all too well.
Her eyes narrow. “You have no idea what I’ve got in me.”
“I’d like to know.”
There’s a moment, just a heartbeat, where the fire crackles between us, and I can feel that spark of curiosity, that pull, deeper than the teasing.
“I’d like to know every single thing about you that I’ve missed,” I add.
No games.
No pretenses.
Everything.
“You really want to know everything?” She’s daring me.
Testing me.
I nod, no hesitation. “All of it.”
For a second, she looks at me, her gaze steady, almost searching. I don’t know where this is going, but I’m ready. If she wants to stay up until dawn catching up, I’m willing.
“I have this book here.” She opens the bucket list on her lap. “It seems you already know a lot about me.”
I feel it before I see it—her foot brushing gently against my leg under the blanket.
The contact is light at first, as if she’s testing the waters.
My breathing stops.
My pulse quickens.
A jolt of heat spreads through me.
Her eyes flicker to mine, but she doesn’t pull away, just lets her foot linger against my thigh.
I swallow, trying to remain calm. It’s a struggle with the way she’s looking at me, the way her foot feels, it’s like she’s just slipped past every damn wall I thought I had up.
“I reckon, I could learn more,” I say.
“Good, ‘cause we’re gonna get up nice and early tomorrow morning. Before our siblings.”
“Are we?” I like where this is going.
“Yes. You saw what happened here when they discovered the book is ours. I can’t handle that first thing in the morning. Among other things.”
I notice the way her eyes flicker to the side, and I wonder if it has more to do with her birthday tomorrow. She’s never liked celebrating it.
I used to love birthdays. The presents, the cake, the noise. She never did. Never liked the spotlight, whether at school or home. She preferred the background. A party was the opposite of her.
When I understood that, I asked my mama to bake cupcakes with me the night before Jade’s. My mama didn’t ask questions, but I think she knew.
The next day, I brought a single cupcake to our secret spot—just the two of us. No crowd. No pressure. She’d loved every second of that quiet moment.
I’ll have to tread lightly tomorrow and read her mood.
“We can do page eighteen tomorrow.” She retracts her foot, sets the book on my lap, and is standing before I can even breathe. “And maybe we can do the whole entry.”
The whole entry? My blood boils at the thought of what kinky fetish she added to it.
“You know, if you’re up for it.” She struts away before I can respond, leaving my head even more jumbled.
What the fuck is number eighteen?