20. Jake
20
JAKE
The lights from the arena cast a glow against the backdrop of the Colorado mountains, the peaks dark silhouettes under a sky streaked with the last hues of sunset.
Jodi and I find seats near the edge of the action, the wood bleachers rough beneath us. There’s a chill to the October air, and the smell of hay and leather mixes with the scent of barbecue from a nearby food truck.
Damn my stupid promise to Iris. After last night, holding her in my arms on the dance floor and watching her come to life in the club where no one knew either of us, all I want is more time with her.
She’s made it clear in a thousand different ways that I’m not for her, but the reality doesn’t stop my body from rebelling at the thought of spending time with someone else. It doesn’t stop me from wanting her.
“Do you ride?” Jodi asks and my attention snaps back to her—where it should have been this entire time.
Instead, my gaze has been locked on the barrel racers, my mind consumed with thoughts of Iris. It’s not fair to my date for the evening, and I owe her at least that courtesy, even if I’m here so she stops sabotaging Iris.
“Enough not to embarrass myself,” I say. “My grandfather made sure both my brother and I could handle ourselves in the saddle.” The crowd erupts in cheers as the last competitor crosses the finish line. “But this is a level I can’t even comprehend.”
“Yeah,” Jodi agrees, pointing to the final rider exiting the arena on her horse. “Maddie James was the favorite tonight, but her turns weren’t tight enough to clinch the victory.”
“Did you compete?”
Jodi seems comfortable at the event, and the cowboy boots she’s paired with a short gingham dress are embellished with rhinestones, but look authentic. Still, she doesn’t strike me as the horse-crazy type.
She barks out a laugh. “Only enough to win the rodeo pageants. Horsemanship was part of the deal, but I was always more interested in the dresses and makeup. And being an ambassador for the events.” She winks. “I thrived on the attention.”
That part doesn’t surprise me. Most of our conversation tonight has revolved around Jodi, which is fine with me. She’s nice enough and pretty enough, but she isn’t Iris. And let’s face it, I’ve been secretly hung up on Skylark’s interim mayor for far too long to have my head turned by a minidress and bright pink lip gloss.
The announcer’s voice booms across the speakers, wrapping up this event and introducing the slate of bull riders, the final competition of the evening.
I discreetly scan the crowd again.
“You’re going to get a crick in your neck working hard so I don’t notice you searching for Iris.” Jodi elbows me gently. “You’re a terrible date, Jake Byrne. Spending our evening together pining after my boss.”
“I’m so sorry,” I stammer, heat rising to my cheeks. What the hell is wrong with me? I’m going to be in big trouble for this. I turn to face my date. “I’ve been rude, Jodi. You deserve something better.”
She wrinkles her nose. “I think you mean someone better.”
“A hundred percent,” I agree. “But I can make it up to you. I think you’re great, it’s just?—”
“I think you’re boring as hell,” she interrupts, then pats me on the cheek the way my grandmother used to do when I gape at her.
Okay, maybe the conversation hasn’t flowed the way it does with Iris, but I’m not boring. Iris didn’t seem to think so anyway.
“She’s going to kill me for screwing this up.” I take Jodi’s hand and squeeze. “I really am sorry.”
“It’s okay.” She grins. “You paid for dinner and the rodeo and concert tickets. Plus, you’re easy on the eyes.”
“Are you going to tell Iris I screwed this up?”
“You like her.”
I blow out a breath. “Since I was seventeen.”
Her smile widens, then turns into a grimace. “No offense, but why? She’s about as cuddly as a porcupine.”
“A cruel irony,” I answer. “For the record, porcupines are actually known to be sweet and affectionate. You just have to know how to pet them.”
“I’ll take your word on that.” She holds up a hand. “But I’m done torturing her, and I’m not going to throw you under the bus either. Turns out Iris is actually a decent human, and I get that she has the town’s best interest at heart. I wanted to hate her because of her mother, but I just can’t.”
“Also for the record…” I lift Jodi’s hand to my mouth and brush a kiss across her knuckles. “I have a feeling you could have any guy you set your mind to.”
She laughs. “Except you.”
“You don’t want me.”
“True,” she agrees, pushing out an audible breath.
“That sigh means something,” I tell her and she tugs her hand from my grasp. “What’s his name?”
“It doesn’t matter.” She turns to face the arena, wincing when the first bull rider is thrown. “He’s definitely not interested, and it isn’t because of Iris.”
I hope to hell not.
“You want to tell me more?” I ask. “Maybe over a funnel cake?”
“Not sure about bearing my soul to you,” she answers, “but I do adore funnel cake.”
As the crowd cheers for the next rider, we walk down the bleacher steps. The sky is growing dark above us, but the midway lights glow brightly. Couples and families wander down the aisles of vendors selling various kinds of merchandise and all sorts of snack foods.
“Hey, Jodi,” a man says as we find our place in line at the funnel cake booth.
I see her startle before regaining her composure. Hey, Daniel,” she answers with a bland smile.
Daniel, several inches taller than my six feet, runs a hand through his floppy brown hair. In his crisp white button-down and dark jeans with Converse sneakers, he looks like he belongs at the rodeo even less than I do.
“Did you get the hummingbird feeder I brought back from Hawaii for you? I left it with your mom.”
Twin spots of color bloom on Jodi’s cheeks.
Interesting.
“Yes,” she tells him. “Thank you. It’s real pretty. Nice of you to think of me.”
The dude beams like she’s just promised him her firstborn child.
“Hey, I’m Jake Byrne,” I say, stretching out a hand.
“Daniel Pearson,” he replies. “I actually work?—”
“As the senior program officer at the foundation,” I interrupt, recognizing his name. “My grandfather says great things about you. How was your vacation?”
“A week in paradise,” he answers. “My sister got married on the Big Island, so we had a mini family reunion. I’m the only single pringle left out of five siblings.” He swallows like he’s just admitted something scandalous.
“No pressure,” I tell him with a laugh.
“No kidding,” he mutters, then glances at Jodi, who is suddenly very interested in the ground beneath her boots.
The plot thickens.
“I’d love to grab lunch next week if you have time?” I’m trying to make a point of spending time with all the key employees of the foundation. I bet money my dad doesn’t even know one of their names.
“I’d like that,” Daniel says. “Jodi, don’t forget we’re going to grab coffee sometime. Vanilla iced latte with oat milk and extra foam.”
A man with that kind of girlie order memorized is more than just a little interested in a woman. I wonder if Jodi realizes this.
Her voice is tight when she answers, “I’ll look at my schedule.”
“Sounds great.” A lock of hair falls across Daniel’s forehead as his head bobs. Jodi lifts a hand, almost like she wants to brush it back into place, but then she pulls it tight against her waist. “One part sugar to four parts water is the best ratio for hummers.”
“Got it.” She points to the booth. “We’re up to order. I’ll talk to you later, Daniel.”
“Nice to meet you,” I say when she turns away.
“Yeah. You too.” The guy looks like he’s just been kicked in the stomach as he walks back toward the arena.
We order the funnel cake and sit on a nearby bench to share it.
“What’s the deal with you and Daniel?”
She lets out a powdered sugar-dusted scoff. “No deal. We’re just friends.”
“He brought you a gift from his sister’s wedding and has your drink order memorized. The dude likes you.”
She frowns and adjusts the strap of her gingham dress. “He’ll never ask me out.”
“Why not?”
“I don’t know.” She tears off a piece of funnel cake and pops it in her mouth, chewing like the pastry did her dirty. “But I do know there’s only so many times a woman can throw out hints that she’d like a man to ask her out before she gives up.”
“Don’t give up on Daniel.” I wipe my fingers on a paper napkin. “Coffee is a good sign, right?”
“Well, you asked me out over coffee,” she counters, “and we know how this date is going.”
“I’m seriously so so?—”
“Do not apologize again.” She rolls her eyes. “Maybe you can point out some of these guys you think are so into me at the concert. Because I don’t want you, and Daniel Pearson doesn’t want me.”
“I’m pretty sure you’re wrong,” I say gently.
“I hope you’re right.” She snags the final bite of funnel cake and grabs my hand. “Let’s get back to our seats. I just heard them announce Chase Calhoun as the next rider.”
The way the excitement has ramped up inside the arena is palpable as we climb to our seats once more. This evening isn’t what I expected, but that doesn’t bother me any longer. I’m quickly learning I have the choice to make any moment count.
“Chase grew up in Skylark.” Jodi points to the cowboy currently mounting a giant, stomping creature in the stall on the far side of the arena. “He won the Pbr World Finals last year and is a legend around here.”
“Do you know him personally?”
She leans into me. “Remember, I grew up in Skylark. I know almost everyone. Plus, I’ve been friends with his sister since third grade. In fact, I had a little crush on him in junior high.”
“I hope he wins.”
“Our hometown guy always wins. Eight seconds to prove he’s got what it takes.” She grabs my hand again and moves a little closer as the air begins to buzz with anticipation.
A few people around us stand to get a better look at Chase Calhoun. He looks like the hero of an old Western movie, all grit and swagger, but his eyes are laser-focused on the massive animal beneath him.
I feel a tingle of awareness between my shoulder blades and look up to see Iris staring at me from across the arena. I recognize her friend Sloane next to her, and that must be Sadie, the dog trainer, on her other side because Ian Barlowe is sitting two people away.
There might be a former NFL MVP in the stands, but I can only truly focus on Iris and the fact that she’s giving off kicked-puppy vibes from across the arena. Which is ridiculous considering I’m only with Jodi to make Iris happy. But she doesn’t look happy.
“Ladies and gentlemen, riding Black Tornado, let’s hear it for Chase Calhoun.”
The audience goes wild as Chase nods and the gate opens. The bull explodes forward like a coiled spring, and Chase clings to the rope with one hand while his other waves high in the air. I’ve lived in Austin for years but never attended an event like this. Cowboy culture isn’t my thing, yet I’m mesmerized by the sheer power of the scene before me now.
The crowd shouts the countdown and then the buzzer blares. Chase launches into the air and lands in a tangle of limbs on the dirt floor. Rodeos clowns—bullfighters, Jodi calls them—rush forward. The bull twists, and, in the center of the ring, one giant hoof comes down on Chase with unthinkable force.
His body goes still, and an immediate hush falls over the arena. My chest tightens even as one of the bullfighters waves a colorful flag to guide Black Tornado to the chute.
Chase Calhoun is motionless on the dirt.
“Oh my God.” Jodi stands as the medical team moves in. “Is he okay?”
“Nothing can hurt Chase,” a boy in front of us assures her. The kid’s father places a heavy hand on his son’s shoulder, clearly not convinced.
The medics work quickly, loading the cowboy onto a stretcher. His face is pale and streaked with dirt as they carry him out of the ring.
Jodi shakes her head. “I need to find his sister. Ada and her mom are here somewhere.”
“Of course. You want me to go with you?”
“No. His family is private. I’m going to take a rain check on the concert.” She flashes a tight smile. “Maybe you and Iris and me and someone can double date next time.”
“Go find your friend.” I squeeze her hand. “Let me know if I can do anything.” She nods and hurries away.
The announcer’s voice returns, cutting through the tension. “Folks, we’ve got one of the toughest cowboys out there in good hands. Let’s show him our support.”
As the crowd cheers, I look up to where Iris and her friends are sitting, but she’s gone. I stand, only to have a heavy hand fall on my shoulder.
“Fancy meeting you here,” a familiar voice says.