Page 53 of Sunrise & Serenity

“Most nights. Not always this late.”

I wonder what’s keeping him up tonight. Probably not the same thing that has me out here.

He exhales slowly, scrubbing a hand over his hair. “I’m not a great sleeper in general.”

I gnaw on my lip. He’s never been particularly open, yet here he is, volunteering personal information. It encourages me to probe a little deeper.

“The rodeo lifestyle probably doesn’t lend itself to quiet nights.”

Those broad shoulders flex. “Not so much. Apparently, my brain still hasn’t adjusted to being back here.”

I lean my back against the stair railing. “I thought I’d struggle without the sound of car horns and sirens, but I’ve slept pretty well since I’ve been here.”

He nods once. “So what happened tonight? Bad dream?”

My cheeks heat, though with any luck, it’s too dark for him to tell. “Just a busy mind, I guess.”

Silence falls, but neither of us makes a move to leave. “Do you miss it? The rodeo, I mean.” The words pop out before I can stop them.

His feet drop from the porch railing, and he tips forward, elbows on his knees. “The circuit’s been my home for over a decade. It’s hard to walk away from.”

His words tug at my chest. “I get that. It’s not easy to shed your identity and start again.”

Head tilted up, he scrutinizes me. “What identity did you leave behind?”

The darkness makes it too easy to keep talking. “A fake one, I think.” I wrinkle my nose. “At least, that’s what I’m starting to figure out.”

“What makes you think it was fake?”

I let out a breath. “Maybe because it feels like I’ve spent years chasing other people’s approval and making life decisions to please them, rather than myself.”

He studies me, and the way his gaze traces over me is almost like a touch. “Give me an example.”

A surprised laugh spills out of me. “Why?”

He shrugs easily. “Maybe I want to learn more about you.”

My humor dies and I swallow. Something about the simple admission catches me off guard. It feels more intimate than all the teasing that’s come before it. “I’ll tell you if you’ll tell me something too.”

“Tell you what?”

I cast my attention upward as I consider what I want to know about him. There’s a lot. “I’ll decide when it’s time.”

He nods slowly. “Okay, you first.”

I wrap my fingers around the wooden slats behind me. “My parents are both successful lawyers. They expected me to follow in their footsteps, but I wanted to be a photographer since I was a kid.”

“Looks to me like you made one decision to please yourself, then.”

“I did. It might have been my first.” I let out a breath. “But they made it clear how disappointed they were in me. I guess you never grow out of wanting your parents to tell you they’re proud of you. I think”—I survey the inky sky overhead, then sigh—“I think that’s why I ended up making some questionable decisions.”

His lips thin. “What decisions?”

I shake my head with a slight smile. “I answered your question. Now you have to answer mine.”

“What do you want to know?”

I run through my many questions again, then pick one. “I heard you were injured, and that’s why you’re back here.”