Chapter 8 Hestia #2
‘Not like you at all,’ Clara interjected, stepping outside and shielding her eyes from the sun.
She was the taller of the sisters, and the initial vibe I’d got from her – maybe a little more reserved than Belle?
– was now counteracted by the devilish smile she flashed in my direction.
‘In fact, I can’t remember the last time Jesse ever brought a girl to meet us. Can you, Bells?’
Before I could interject, as Belle followed her sister, she turned to me and gave a small, knowing wink.
‘Nope,’ she agreed. ‘Although we did spot the last buckle bunny from a distance . . .’
I clamped my mouth shut, struggling not to join in as the three women dissolved into giggles. Jesse rolled his eyes.
‘All right, all right, I knew that was coming,’ he drawled, leaning back against his chair and taking off his hat, running a hand through his hair. His smile was soft, as though watching their amusement at his expense was all worth it.
‘We’re only messin’,’ Jean said to me. ‘We know y’all are just friends. Besides, I need to hear more about what you do. Jesse said you’re a tattoo artist and did some of your own, that right? I’ve got a few, but none as good as yours.’
They listened as I explained my business, how it all started. They were curious and without judgement, genuinely interested in the process and leaning in for a closer look when I showed them my first ink, the compass on my wrist.
Jesse just watched in silence, taking it all in, but his eyes were fixed on me. Even when I looked back at him for a moment, he didn’t flinch away. There was an intensity to it that made my heart lurch, as though he was committing the scene to memory.
Before I could look away, Clara caught us, taking a pause as I hurriedly shifted back to Jean, listening to her own tattoo stories.
‘Jesse got his first tattoo right after his first bull ride,’ Clara said quietly as we got up, Jean declaring it was time for us all to have some lunch inside. ‘You seen that one yet, Hestia?’
‘Oh – yeah, the one on his back . . .’ I began, coming to an awkward stop as I realized what she’d made me reveal, given there was no way I could’ve seen it without him being topless.
Jesse laughed as he got up, rolling his eyes at both sisters and their barely suppressed smiles.
‘Sorry, honey, I couldn’t resist it,’ Clara apologized, touching my shoulder, a sheepish edge to her grin.
I tried to smile back, but mortification was slowly curdling my insides. Everything about today was off, the usual defences and deflections just out of my reach.
‘All right, enough – get inside before I start airing out all of your stories,’ Jesse threatened, towering over us and coming to a stop directly behind me. ‘And Clara, you best be afraid. Don’t think I don’t remember your dating chaos.’
As she protested, Belle and Jean chiming in with stories, I tried to follow, stopping abruptly as his arm wound around my waist.
‘Don’t you feel embarrassed about anything we’ve done,’ he whispered in my ear, not missing the way my eyes closed for a moment, opening straight into his as I turned my head back slightly.
‘They love calling me out for my past, that’s all.
I wouldn’t undo you seeing my tattoos for all the money in this world. ’
His gaze became fierce, burning my insides. In no more than a couple of moments he released me, gently moving me inside as the women turned back to us. My heart was pounding as I sat at the table, accepting Belle’s offer to add things to my plate.
‘I think the better story is Jesse’s first bull ride itself,’ Jean began.
‘Jesus . . . Mom,’ Jesse chuckled, piling up his plate, stealing the bread right from under Clara’s nose with a smirk. ‘You three are determined to get it all out today.’
‘Seems like you beat us to it, brother,’ Clara countered, and even I couldn’t help myself – joining them as they all cackled.
‘Like I said – firing line,’ Jesse said to me with a pointed expression, tearing off a chunk of bread and aiming it at Clara’s head.
‘I’m sorry, Hestia,’ she said between laughs, deflecting his missile. ‘I’ll stop.’
I shook my head as Jesse protested at me receiving the apology. ‘You’re fine. I was wondering how Jesse was ever kept in check as a kid, but I get it now.’
‘Yeah, some might even say it drove me to bull riding,’ he grumbled, not quite able to hide his own smile. ‘Less of a pain in my ass being trampled by a three-thousand-pound death trap than listening to these two.’
‘Sounds like a chicken and egg situation,’ I mused, catching Clara’s eye, open curiosity in her stare. ‘Does the crazy come before or after you get trampled by the three-thousand-pound death trap?’
‘I like her,’ Jean announced to Jesse as both sisters laughed, Clara nodding at me in approval.
‘I used to,’ Jesse agreed, matching my grin as I attempted to focus on eating some of the bread Clara had passed to me, failing miserably as I took him in instead.
‘So what happened on the first bull ride, then?’ I asked eventually, suddenly aware that all three women had seen our shared look and were now glancing at each other.
‘I swear,’ Belle began, clearly relishing being able to retell it again.
‘If only I’d recorded it . . . funniest damn thing I’ve ever seen.
The ride itself was good, whatever,’ she said, waving it away as Jesse held up his hands at her dismissal of his triumph.
‘He made it past the bell, but when he jumped off, it was like he forgot there was still a bull in there with him – and that bastard was nasty. Jesse just stood there, waving at the crowd, listening to the bunnies whistling and hollerin’ his name,’ she giggled as Jesse scoffed.
‘But when the bull turned and came right back for him, head down, one of the wranglers had to haul him up and over her horse – his ass in the air, legs jiggling as she rode him out of the ring.’
She dissolved into giggles as the rest of us joined in.
Jesse shrugged.
‘Won the tournament, though.’
Another couple of hours later, the chat settling down and heat removed from Jesse, I was gently grilled by Jean about all aspects of my life.
I didn’t mind – she was easy to talk to. I’d liked her instantly, but seeing her inside their dynamic, it hit differently. The way Jesse doted on her, the small gestures of affection between them, hinted at the kind of parental relationship I’d only dreamed of.
‘He’s been my rock, this whole time,’ Jean admitted when she mentioned her illness, early-onset Parkinson’s.
‘You all have,’ she said to the three of them.
‘It’s a pain in the ass having to slow down and rely on people, you know?
But today has been great. I’m sure glad he met you, honey.
Good friends are important.’ She looked me over, noting my hesitation, the inference in her words.
‘How long you staying? Come see me again, won’t you, before you head home? ’
From her, said in that way, the consequence of even my extended trip coming to an end suddenly hit me. Of possibly not seeing her ever again after that . . . of not seeing Jesse.
‘Definitely,’ I said, matching the tightness of the hug she now gave me as the three siblings stood by. ‘But only if we can take it up a notch next time and get the really embarrassing childhood photos out.’
We left amid their laughter, walking back out into the blinding sun of the car park.
‘Thank you,’ he said, as we reached his truck and climbed in, waiting as the engine sprang into life, the A/C working overtime to cool the stifling air.
‘What for?’ I asked, genuinely puzzled.
He opened his mouth for a moment, then paused, as if rethinking.
‘What?’ I asked, unable to hold back from asking. ‘Tell me. We’ve . . . we’re dancing around each other,’ I admitted, barely able to hold on as he looked at me straight. He knew it too. ‘Why are you thanking me? I loved meeting them.’
He sighed, eventually looking down. Then, as if he couldn’t help it either, he reached out for my left hand, holding it in his own.
‘For doing something for me. That you didn’t have to do, that could’ve been really difficult.
I guess I’m not used to that . . . the boot’s usually on the other foot, y’know?
’ He looked up as his fingers brushed mine, goosebumps forming as I read his expression.
It was that fierce intensity again, his eyes molten.
‘Not that I mind. I’ll be there for my mom, sisters, Lil, Cole .
. . anyone that needs me,’ he added softly.
‘But it’s a fucking weird feeling when someone else does it just for you. ’
His words were a gut punch. There was sadness right behind them, a loneliness that spoke so directly to me, at my core. To my absolute horror, I felt emotion gathering, rising up and threatening to form tears.
‘I get it,’ I murmured, bottling out of his gaze and staring at our hands instead. ‘I’ve felt the same way.’
‘No more dancing, Jessica,’ he whispered, waiting for me to look up again, knowing he noticed the difference in my eyes. ‘It’s fucking rough being alone sometimes. You don’t have to hide it, not from me.’
There were seconds before my first tear fell, my fingers tightening around his. Desperately, grasping at anything, I voiced the first thought that came to mind.
‘I’m sorry I revealed too much to them, about your tattoo—’
‘Honey, know that I say this with love for my sister, but so fucking help me I will kick her ass back over the state line when I see her next for pulling that stunt,’ he growled, rolling his eyes.
‘Listen to me,’ he urged, leaning forward, his other hand reaching out to softly pull one of my waves through his fingers.
‘The only issue I have with them knowing we’ve been more than friends is that they might think it’s only that.
Because that’s all it’s ever been before, and . . .’
He stopped himself again, searching my face as deeply as the words he sought.
‘No dancing, cowboy,’ I whispered, watching as his eyes drifted to my lips.
‘. . . And you . . . you’re more than that. I don’t know what yet, but both of those times we had together . . . it wasn’t just a quick fuck.’
I stopped breathing, my body registering the panic in one part of my mind while the other part desperately wanted to lean forward, to meet his mouth with mine. I knew he felt the same, his hand now reaching up to brush my jaw –
A sudden noise jolted us out of it, my phone vibrating against the dash, threatening to fall off as it moved across the plastic.
I grabbed it, using the distraction to pull on my seatbelt as Jesse shifted back into his seat and settled at the wheel, moving us out of the car park.
My thoughts still racing, hands trembling slightly, I opened the screen to an email notification from . . . ‘The Old Jackson Courthouse, Wyoming’s Premier Wedding Venue’.
The uneasy feeling from last week, the result of the fireballs . . . everything came crashing back in like a direct hit to my temple. I read the message confirming my deposit and inviting me and my fiancé to come and view the venue, make all of the arrangements.
‘You okay?’ Jesse asked in the same quiet voice as before, frowning slightly at my expression.
I nodded quickly as I set down the phone and put my shades on – I was on the verge of telling him, but I lacked the guts. Did he even remember? Would it even bother him as it clearly did me? I was such a fucking idiot.
And as Lainey Wilson played, prompting him to throw the hint of a smile my way, I gathered up every last thread of feeling and shoved it all back down, aware of just how close I’d come to completely unravelling in front of him – to him.