I lean away from her as I close the message. “Nothing, nosy. Just my mom, asking me to dinner tomorrow.”
They exchange a look.
And I have a feeling that keeping my secret much longer is about to become impossible.
Axle
The second the plane touches down in Jackson, I’m ready to jump out of the damn emergency exit.
I’ve spent the entire flight thinking about Jovie.
Then we get parked on the tarmac and sit there for over an hour.
Apparently, every gate at the airport is occupied, which feels like some special kind of hell.
By the time I finally collect my bag and make the drive back to the academy, way later than expected, the sun is already dropping behind the mountains.
I pull up outside my cabin and kill the engine.
Guitar music drifts through the air, accompanied by low voices and laughter.
I grab my duffel from the truck, toss it inside my cabin without bothering to unpack, and head toward the sound.
The closer I get, the louder everything becomes.
String lights crisscross above a wide field beside the big barn, casting a warm golden glow over the crowd. Hay bales are arranged in rows around a makeshift stage, where one of the instructors strums an acoustic guitar while half a dozen adults sing along. Some can carry a tune, and some definitely can’t, but nobody seems to care.
The smell hits me next.
Long outdoor tables are lined with massive cast-iron skillets and Dutch ovens overflowing with chuckwagon fare. Grilledsteaks. Baked beans. Corn on the cob. Potato salad. Fresh cornbread.
My stomach grumbles, but it’ll have to wait its turn.
Mason jars, full of sweet tea, sit beside stacks of plates.
A few massive oak barrels have been converted into coolers, packed with ice and beer.
Groups of instructors, ranch hands, and staff drift between tables, laughing and talking, and a few are dancing barefoot in the grass.
Good people, enjoying the generosity of a boss who values them.
My eyes start searching for Jovie, scanning face after face until I spot her.
She’s standing beside the beer barrels, wearing a pair of cutoff denim shorts and a sleeveless white top. Her blonde hair spills over one shoulder.
She’s laughing at something the man next to her said. His name is Everette, I believe—the academy’s new groom. He’s tall, dark-haired, clean-shaven, and standing way too damn close.
I pick up my pace, and the crowd parts naturally as I move through it.
Jovie doesn’t notice me at first, but Everette does.
His eyes widen slightly.
Jovie turns, and the second she sees me, her entire face lights up.
There she is—my girl.
A smile breaks across her face. “Axle.”
