Me? I don’t care. If I cared what they thought, I’d have stopped riding bulls years ago. I’d be happy to sit next to Summer and sling my arm across the back of her chair. But I know she’s not there yet. Unlike me, Summer really, really cares what people think.
Summer lifts her napkin, primly dabbing at her lips as she takes a deep breath. I watch them flatten and fill back out under the pressure of her fingers and have to shift myself on the chair to accommodate the way my cock is expanding in my pants.
She smiles serenely at my brother. “No, everything has been absolutely fine. Very uneventful. When do you deploy? I’m assuming we’ll see you all at the final rodeo weekend?” She looks around the table innocently. But I know her comment is anything but innocent. “It’s just in the city. I’m sure you’re all capable of driving to support Rhett.”
That draws a lot of dropped eye contact and increased rates of chewing. I’m not surprised. My family doesn’t support me in this venture. It’s not a new conversation for me at this point.
“Sorry, Sum.” My eyes narrow at Beau, shortening her name like he knows her well enough to do that. “I’m heading out early this week. Dad and I are making it a road trip across the country.”
But Summer is a fixer. Summer supports the people she loves. I’m sure she can’t quite wrap her head around this. So, she just continues to stare at everyone expectantly.
“I’ll come!” Luke squeals. “I wanna be a bull rider, just like Uncle Rhett!”
Summer smiles. “Great, I can take y—”
“No.” Cade’s voice is downright arctic. This is not a conversation he likes to have. Not at all.
It’s Jasper from beneath the brim of his team cap that takes over the conversation. “I’ll join you, Summer. I live close to the arena, and we’re off that night.”
She perks up with a terse nod, rolling her shoulders back and glaring at my dad and brothers.
“Wouldn’t matter if you had a game. You could take the night off. That’s how far y’all are from clinching a playoff spot.” Beau guffaws at his own joke.
Jasper rolls his eyes, shakes his head, and mutters, “Fuckin’ dick.” His voice holds no venom though. Jasper and my middle brother are best friends, the kind most of us never get to have. Practically brothers. God knows Jasper needed someone.
Or a few someones. And those someones turned out to be the Eaton boys.
“Well,” Beau exclaims, clapping his hands together, “who’s up for a field trip to The Spur? I want to dance with Summer before I leave.”
My teeth grind as I glare at my brother.
“You’re gonna ruin your teeth doing that, son.” Harvey slings a hand across the back of my chair and grins at me. It’s a creepy grin. A knowing grin.
“Thanks, Dad.”
“Any time. You know I’m a well-spring of good advice.” He leans in closer while everyone else launches into talking about plans for later tonight. His voice goes lower. “That’s why I’m going to give you this little tidbit of advice: cool your jets. If you ever have something that no one else wants, you gotta ask yourself where the value is.”
I look over at my dad, face smushed together in confusion. “What?”
He smiles wistfully, observing everyone around the table. “It never mattered whose eyes were on your mom. Because her eyes were always on me.” He pats my shoulder and then leans back into his chair, leaving me staring down at the old oak table beneath my elbows. The lines in the wood a testament to all the meals I’ve had in this exact spot over the course of my life.
While lively conversation rolls on around me, I think about my mom. I think about Summer.
And when I glance over at her, her eyes are on me.
* * *
I decide to take my dad’s advice. To stop beating my chest like a fucking gorilla every time someone so much as looks Summer’s way. I decide to sit back at The Spur and soak her up. Beau and Cade grabbed the couches on the raised part of the bar. It’s the same spot they always take, and magically it’s never in use.
I think we’re just well-liked enough in town to warrant a special spot. Beau got here before Summer and I did, but I wouldn’t be surprised if someone else moved from the table when they saw him walk in.
That, or Cade scowled at them and sent them scampering off.
Either way, from where I’m seated, I have a perfect view of the space they clear for a dance floor on Honky Tonk Sundays. I’m pretty sure it’s just a way to get people out on Sunday nights—and it works.
Old school country music, line dancing, two-stepping. Chestnut Springs is a small enough town, but it’s not all cowboys and ranchers. Which is why it always cracks me up to see people playing cowboy dress-up on Sunday nights.
Eric, the financial advisor from the bank, has a huge silver buckle on his belt and is wearing a fucking bolo tie. This guy hasn’t set foot outside a shiny clean bank in years, and I know he grew up attending a private school in the city.