Chapter 15 Hestia
HESTIA
‘You really do look like her,’ Jesse mused, propping his head on his hand as he lay next to me. His hair was mussed from last night, the soft morning light turning it a deep, burnished gold.
I raised an eyebrow, wondering for one horrific moment if he was about to name an ex.
‘Jessica Rabbit,’ he replied, melting into a smile as I did, my arm bent under my head on the pillow. Glancing down to the end of the bed, I could see the red satin pooled on the floor beyond, right where he’d slipped the straps off my shoulders.
We were here again, in our safe space between reality and the depths inside both of us.
‘I didn’t get a chance to tell you how good you looked in that suit,’ I murmured, reaching out to run my finger over his broad shoulder, following the hard grooves of the muscle down his arm. ‘I was trying so hard to hold it together that I didn’t say.’
‘Honey, I know it’s your style to show, not tell,’ he said, a sly smile emerging across his lips as he leant down towards me. ‘And knowing what I do now, I’m even more in awe of you.’
Confused, I moved my finger to his lips as he brought himself in to kiss me.
‘What do you mean?’ I asked, barely able to hold off the urge to let the fire take over again, but too curious not to know.
‘That you went ahead and came to the wedding, even though it hurt; that you went through hell in your past.’ He kissed my finger. ‘That’s no small thing. I know you think your demons are bigger than you, but I see you in there, fighting. And I’m fucking rooting for you, honey.’
I felt his words seep in, heard them repeat in my mind as he finally closed the gap between us, his mouth finding mine for a moment. Once again, as though my tears were wired to his voice, the familiar prickle behind my eyelids began.
‘I don’t know what I did to deserve finding you,’ I whispered as we drew back, lips still touching.
‘Well, you did, Jessica. And I’m right here, always. You don’t have to be alone.’
I looked down, not brave enough to share just how much of a nerve that’d hit. I found his hand instead, the touch of his skin an instant relief as he twined his fingers with mine.
‘Now I’ve got a suggestion,’ he said, a more playful tone taking over.
‘Given we’ve got the whole day off, and despite having slept with you .
. .’ I looked back at him as he paused, apparently trying to count.
‘Damn, I actually can’t remember how many times,’ he admitted, his sheepish smile somehow drawing my own smile in return.
‘Anyway – what I mean to say is, I’ve never even made you breakfast. But given my pretty basic kitchen skills, and the fact that I want it to just be you and me right now, why don’t we head on out into town? ’
Within the hour, we were parked up outside Molly’s Diner. Jesse took my hand as I stepped onto the pavement with him. Town was busy already: locals and tourists wandering around, the beginnings of a queue at the diner door.
‘This okay?’ he asked as my fingers tightened around his.
His eyes were clear under the brim of his hat as I nodded in return.
‘As long as I don’t get tackled by buckle bunnies for stealing Jackson’s star bull rider,’ I replied, smiling as he chuckled.
‘I’d like to see them try,’ he smirked as I side-eyed him. ‘With those nails and that mouth, ain’t no one round here that’d stand a damn chance.’
‘Hey, Chrissy,’ he said as we entered, raising his hand to a petite blonde with a Molly’s T-shirt tucked into her tiny denim shorts.
She waved back, shooting me a curious glance before gesturing towards the one free booth near the back.
‘Friend of yours?’ I asked as we headed over to it, looking back to see her talking to two other women behind the counter. Their gazes lifted to meet mine as I shifted focus back to Jesse.
‘Kinda,’ he said, then after a half-beat added, ‘An ex, actually. Reformed bunny.’
I raised my eyebrows as we slid into the burgundy leather seats, sitting opposite each other.
‘How far am I from your usual type?’ I asked, trying to keep my voice casual, but judging by his deep chuckle, failing spectacularly.
‘Are you jealous, Jessica?’ he teased, moving my legs between his under the table, squeezing them with his knees.
I shrugged, grabbing the menu and starting to read.
‘Damn. You are cute when you’re jealous,’ he mused, grinning as I dead-eyed him back.
‘Long time no see, cowboy!’
We glanced up as Chrissy appeared next to the table, her smile as big as her considerable rack. Her voice was bubblegum sweet and her substantial lips were glossed with sparkling pink.
‘Oh hey,’ Jesse said, smiling. ‘Thanks for holding the table, I figured it’d be crazy on rodeo Saturday.’
‘Right,’ she agreed, her smile fading slightly as her eyes flicked over to me. ‘Are you visiting for the rodeo?’
I turned to her fully, sweeping my hair back as I raised my Ray-Bans. Her eyes fell on my tats, the way the twining flowers at the bottom of the Sleepy Hollow scene descended under the neckline of my top.
‘No, actually,’ I replied, feeling Jesse’s eyes on my face. ‘I’m here for the bull rider.’
I gave her a slow smile, enjoying the surprise that now lit her expression as she glanced at him, struggling to recover. Jesse glanced down, amusement radiating.
‘Well . . . that’s . . . can I get you both started? Some coffee?’ she started, then with a glance at me, ‘Or tea?’
‘Black coffee, thanks,’ I replied, waiting for Jesse to order before reaching across the table to put my hand on his. ‘Choose for me on the food? I’ll have whatever you have.’
It was petty, I knew it was, but I couldn’t deny the satisfaction as she glanced down at our hands together.
‘You’re just here for the bull rider, huh?’ he teased as she left, shaking his head. ‘You enjoyed that, didn’t you?’
‘Not as much as last night,’ I shrugged, leaning forward over the table, watching as his eyes drifted south to the buttons that strained on my tank top. ‘Just wanted to make things clear to her.’
‘Does that mean you’re gonna be okay with the bull rider entering the rodeo tonight?’ he asked, his eyes pinched despite his smile.
Immediately I was back in the stands at the last rodeo, watching helplessly as he was tossed around, horns and hooves just inches from his face. I must have known then just what he meant to me, even if I couldn’t admit it to myself at the time.
‘If I can go to a wedding, I can stand a rodeo,’ I said, knowing I wasn’t convincing either of us.
‘I won’t do anything stupid,’ he urged, his eyes pleading. ‘I swear. But a couple more wins and I’m gonna be in line for some serious prize money, you know? It’ll take a huge weight off of Mom’s shoulders.’
I nodded as the coffee arrived.
‘At least a bull ride is just eight seconds, right?’ I said as he nodded.
‘If you hang on that long, yeah.’
‘Much easier than a wedding, then,’ I countered, releasing his hand to circle my mug.
He considered me for a moment, smiling as he added cream and sugar to his.
‘Okay, how about this – would you rather go to another wedding, or try barrel racing in front of the rodeo crowd?’
I laughed, the thought of desperately clinging on to Buckeye in the way Bailey did so deeply unlikely.
‘You mean, fall on my ass in the dirt in front of hundreds of people, or a wedding?’ I corrected, grinning as he shrugged. ‘Ugh. Okay – barrel racing. It’d be over quicker.’
He nodded. ‘Would you rather . . . go to a wedding or sky-dive? No, wait – what do they call it? Base jumping – right off the top of the tallest mountains back there.’
He pointed out towards the jagged peaks in the distance.
I shuddered.
‘No way. I can’t do heights,’ I admitted, watching as he reacted with surprise.
‘So, heights, huh? That your limit?’
‘I mean, don’t ask me to climb into a confined space with a bunch of spiders, but yeah.
I’m sure there’s no better view than those mountains .
. .’ I paused as our food arrived, glancing with alarm at the volume of it – pancakes, eggs, bacon, fried potatoes .
. . ‘But don’t ever ask me to climb one. ’
‘Okay, last one,’ he warned, offering me the maple syrup before taking it for himself.
‘When do I get a turn?’ I asked, my heart stuttering at his smile in response.
‘When you’ve answered my last one. Truthfully.’
I sipped my coffee, waiting. He stopped for a moment, looking me straight in the eye.
‘Would you rather . . . live here in Jackson, or in London?’
The insinuation was like a bell ringing directly in my ears, the complexity of the answer too much to distil into one word.
I opened my mouth, then closed it, knowing what it would mean, what he would take from it. A promise, one I didn’t know if I could keep.
‘Jackson,’ I whispered, feeling his legs grip against mine. ‘London made me, it’s my home, but . . .’
‘No mountains, right?’ he added softly, picking up his fork. ‘Or Molly’s.’
I managed a half-smile, grateful for the steer away from the depths.
‘No mountains,’ I replied, tilting my head. ‘No Molly’s, bulls or bunnies.’
After we’d finished, me swearing I wouldn’t need to eat again until tomorrow, he gave me a curious glance.
‘So what is in London? Why live there?’
I leant back against the padded back of the booth, somehow knowing and not knowing the answer.
‘It’s where I’ve always been, since I left home anyway,’ I began, my head straying back to my old flat, the studio. ‘It’s where Cal and I started the business, where our friends are . . .’ I tailed off, realizing how I’d worded that, knowing he was too perceptive to let it pass.
‘Are you two still . . . friends?’ he asked, a sudden hardness to his jaw as I considered it.
‘We’re not in a relationship, Jesse,’ I clarified. ‘That ended way back. It’s the business that’s kept us working together.’