Burying Water (Burying Water #1)(89)

The crowd explodes with hollers and cheers as the bull charges through the gates, bucking through the air like he’s on fire and desperate to put himself out, the rider somehow staying on his back.

“This happens every June?” I ask as I take in the bleachers, hundreds of locals and tourists filling them.

“Yup. One of the busiest weekends of the year for Sisters.” The way Gabe says that, he doesn’t sound at all enthused. We’re sitting near the front in special seats. One of the perks of being part of the sheriff’s family.

I guess I’m classified as “family” now.

Meredith sits on the other side of Gabe, in deep conversation with Mrs. Green, the town councilor. The topic of conversation appears serious by the stern frown in Meredith’s forehead. If I had to guess, it’s about building a bypass around the town. That or maintaining the curbside appeal of Sisters. Meredith holds a lot of pride in this town. When we first drove through it, I never noticed the dented trash cans and cracked curbs, but now that I’m a “local,” I’ve seen what she has complained about.

Amber stands down in the front row, talking and laughing with another girl. Both of them look done up like dolls with their fat curls and their wide-brimmed embroidered hats, their smiles dazzling.

“That’s this year’s Rodeo Queen,” Gabe explains. “That was Amber, a few years back. When she was little, she used to sit on my shoulders and stare at the girls. She was determined to win and so she did.”

“Right! Dakota mentioned something about that.”

A buzzer goes off just as the bull finally achieves his goal and bucks the rider off, rearing on him. The rider’s quick, though, landing on his feet and darting out of the way, his hands stretched in front of him. Several guys run into the arena to help corral the bull.

“How’s your first rodeo?” The smell of mint hits me a split second after hearing his voice spikes my heart rate. Jesse slides into the bleacher next to me, his leg pressing up against mine from hip to knee.

“Interesting.” My breath catches as he curls his arm around my shoulders, pulling my temple into his lips for a soft kiss.

I guess Jesse has decided that we’re going public.

He leans forward. “Hey.”

“Jesse.” Sheriff Gabe’s eyes graze over his son’s arm but he says nothing else, turning his focus back to the bull pen.

The crowd roars as the voice announces the second bull over the speaker and it charges out, this one bigger and bucking even more fervently. I should be watching the show and yet I can’t. I’ve lost interest. The entire event—whatever it is, ten seconds? Thirty seconds? A minute?—continues in the background as I absorb Jesse’s body heat against me.

Amber’s not watching the rodeo anymore either. She’s now staring at us intently, her wide eyes skittering between us and her parents, then back to us, finally to settle on her brother, a mixture of shock and worry and hurt on her face.

I probably should have said something to her. I just didn’t know how to explain it.

Other than I’m falling hard for her brother.

THIRTY-ONE

Jesse

then

“Jesse?”

My heart jumps at the sound of her voice.

I haven’t seen or talked to Alex in weeks.

“Hey . . . hold on a second.” A quick glance around the garage confirms that no one’s paying any attention to me. But Miller will bust my balls if he catches me on the phone. “Hey, Boone—I’m taking my break now, in case anyone’s looking for me.”

He sees the phone in my hand and nods. “Got it.” We’re at least on regular speaking terms lately.

A light drizzle falls. Not enough to soak me but enough to be annoying. “Hey. Is everything okay?” An image of her curled up in a dark corner in her house, bruised and battered, hits me and I grit my teeth.

“Yeah.” There’s a pause. I hear the hesitation. “Can you meet me?”

“When?” I check my watch. It’s three. “I have another couple of hours at work, but I can cut out if you need me to.” Miller can dock my pay. He can fire me. Right now, I don’t give a shit.

“Tonight, then.”

The white Christmas lights coiled around a fake palm tree ahead are impossible to miss. I pull off the road and into the parking lot of the restaurant, thirty miles outside of Portland. I know why she chose it.

Her husband’s unlikely to find us out here together.

I ignore the hostess standing at the door because I saw the Z8 parked around back, so I know Alex is here, somewhere. It takes a lap around the surprisingly large restaurant to spot her white-blond hair at a small table in a corner, concealed from the entrance by a giant Christmas tree.

“Sorry I’m late,” I offer.

She looks up at me, startled, and I instantly remember how much I like Alex’s eyes. I can see by the dark circles that she hasn’t been sleeping well. Her face wasn’t as drawn before, either. She’s lost weight. “Jesse.” It’s almost a whisper, it’s so soft. “Hey.”

I want to kiss her. That wedding ring is staring back at me, though, and in my worn jeans and boots, there’s no doubt to anyone around that I’m not the one who gave it to her. I slide into the booth across from her and stretch my legs out to hug the outsides of hers. It’s cramped, so I have an excuse.