Why was I having this conversation? I avoided those kinds of heart-to-hearts the way I steered clear of baby pink in my wardrobe.
“If you don’t drop the whole girlfriend, date, did-I-didn’t-I conversation right now,” I lifted a finger and leveled him with my own look, “I will hop up in my seat and scream ‘OBAMA RULES’ at the top of my lungs.”
That got Jesse’s attention. As it should have. I didn’t need to see the voting cards of the thousands in attendance to know I’d be strung up and left for dead for saying something like that.
There was so much red in the room I could barely breathe.
“You’re funny, Rowen. You know that?” was Jesse’s amused reply. “And by the way, I voted for Obama. I would have the first time, too, if I was old enough to vote.”
I rolled my eyes. Of course he did. The red-blooded cowboy through and through voted for the blue as blue can be Democratic president. The ironies just never ended in Nowhere, Montana.
“You’re such a dichotomy, Jesse Walker.” I tapped the front of his hat so it covered his eyes.
“Whoa. Was that just a ‘dichotomy’ you just dropped on me?” The hat still covered the top half of his face, but his smile and those damn dimples were visible. “How can a girl who supposedly barely passed high school drop vocab like that and think she’s got us all fooled?”
I hated having him next to me as much as I loved it. As far as my relationship with Jesse went, that was pretty much par for course. “You know, you hovering in the middle of the aisle is creating a fire hazard.” Since it didn’t look like he would do it, I tilted his hat back into place. His eyes were just as amused as the rest of his face. “So why don’t you get back to your harem and leave me alone?”
“Nah. They’re good without me,” he said, glancing back at his empty seat. “And I’ve left you alone enough this week.” His voice was full of intention. He’d left me alone, somewhat, like I’d asked, but apparently he was done with “alone time.”
I groaned and tried to elbow him. He dodged it easily and chuckled. “How did you get here?” he asked, thankfully shifting the conversation back into the acceptable range.
“Would you believe me if I told you I hijacked your horse?”
“Nope. No, I wouldn’t,” he said. “Sunny only lets me ride him. Not once in ten years has he let another soul on his back.”
“Your horse must be partial to the depraved,” I muttered.
“Maybe. But then he would have let you hijack him like you mentioned.”
“I took Old Bessie.” I focused on the arena so he wouldn’t see my smile.
“Ha! I’d believe you charmed Sunny before you climbed into Old Bessie—willingly—and drove her here.”
I couldn’t slip a single thing past Jesse. “I walked.”
“Sure you did.”
I lifted my eyebrows.
“What? Really? You walked?” he said in disbelief. “It’s, like, five miles from Willow Springs to the fairground.”
I lifted a shoulder.
“You walked?” he repeated again, like it was inconceivable.
“Yes, I walked. You know, one foot in front of the other? Arms swinging gently at the sides?” I said dryly. “I’ve been doing it for a while now. Almost seventeen years. I’m pretty good at it.”
“I sure have missed that attitude of yours this week,” he said in such a way I wasn’t sure if he was being a smartass or serious.
Before I could reply with my own smartass comment, a gate inside the arena flew open and a bull the size of a tank busted out of it. As if that wasn’t frightening enough, a guy was on top of it holding on to the bucking and twisting animal with only one hand. I’d thought the sport was insane based on the name alone, but watching it in real life, I thought insane was thoroughly inadequate.
“What the hell is this?” I asked, utterly stunned.
It didn’t seem possible a creature that stocky and large could move and jump the way it was. Something having to do with the laws of gravity. How the dude on top could stay upright seemed like yet another slap in the face of physics.
“Some people call it bull riding. Other people call it a death wish,” Jesse replied as a buzzer went off. The guy on top of the bull leapt off and tumbled to the ground. A couple of guys dressed like clowns clapped and moved to get the bull’s attention while the rider righted himself and sprinted for the exit.
The sport just got odder by the moment. Not to mention scarier. Anything where clowns were involved amped the scary factor up a few levels.
“Have you ever done that?” I asked, still in shock. I didn’t know what I’d just seen, but I’d never forget it.
“Nope. I’m one of those crazy people that likes the use of all their body parts.”
“After just watching that, you are not the crazy one.” Another guy was getting ready at the gates, but I couldn’t watch another ride yet. Garth wasn’t up, so I looked back at Jesse. He was back to smiling at me.
I gave up and smiled right back. It was that infectious.
When I caught sight of the person who’d stopped behind him, my smile died on the spot.
She was even prettier up close.
“Hey, Jess, I’m heading out,” the drop-dead girl from ten rows back said, resting her hand on his shoulder. Then she smiled at me, and as much as I wanted to dislike her because she had her hand on him and had a special nickname for him, I couldn’t. Girls didn’t normally smile warmly at me. Girls didn’t even smile coolly at me.