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“Can I call you?” he asked.
“I don’t think that’s a good idea. I need to go now, Jace.”
NFR had barely begun and Jace was already exhausted. Endless meetings filled his days, and even though the competitive events were just getting started, the all-night parties had started a week ago. Jace watched as men and women spilled out of the hotel’s shuttle. The buses ran non-stop from one rodeo event to another. Once one emptied, the line of people waiting would pile on, headed where the last people came from. The line was long, full of cowboys and cowgirls, most feeling as tired as he was. He focused on one couple specifically.
The man stood behind the woman, his arms around her waist. She leaned back so her head rested against his chest. Jace watched as the man lowered his head and kissed the woman’s neck. Her eyes closed, she smiled, and then turned her head. When she did, the cowboy kissed her. She turned in his arms, and their kiss deepened.
He should look away; their moment was private, even if they were in public, but he kept watching. When their kiss ended, she rested her cheek against his chest. The cowboy’s arms tightened, pulling her closer. Jace sighed, envying their moment, their closeness, their love.
When he turned to go back into the hotel, no longer interested in going to tonight’s party, Billy was leaning against the wall, watching him. His hat sat low on his face, but Jace could see his eyes. He wasn’t smirking, the way he often did. Good thing. Jace wasn’t in the mood to take any of Billy’s shit today. He had enough of his own.
He was tempted to turn around, catch a cab to the airport, and head back to Montana. He’d spent the last few days counting down to the day he’d be with Bree again. Instead of winding down, the count had just spiraled up.
“Hold up,” Billy said when Jace walked past him.
Jace ignored him, walked straight to the bar, and ordered a shot of bourbon. He downed one and shoved the shot glass in the bartender’s direction. “Keep ’em comin’.”
Billy stood next to him at the bar, but didn’t say anything. After Jace’s third round, he turned the shot glass over. Getting drunk was pointless; it would only make him feel worse.
“I want out,” he said, without looking at Billy.
“You’re out.”
“That simple? Huh. Must be I’m not as important to this whole venture as I thought.”
“You’re important as any of the rest of us, but nobody’s gonna force you to stick with this if you don’t wanna be here.”
“I can just w
alk away?”
“Sure ya can. We all can. Nothin’ tyin’ any of us to this deal, except money.”
“I walk away, I lose my money. Fair enough.”
“Hell, no. I’ll buy you out. I got no problem doin’ that. None of us would screw you outta your investment.”
“All right, then.” Jace held out his hand, but Billy didn’t shake it.
“We’ll do it after the first of the year. Cleaner that way from a tax standpoint. Plus it’ll take that long to draw up the paperwork.”
“If that’s that, I’ll go pack my stuff.”
“Where ya headed?”
“Home. Back to Montana.”
“Home, huh? Your operation up there is still part of all this. Or you plannin’ on askin’ your mama and daddy to buy you outta that, too?”
Jace hadn’t gotten that far. He hadn’t expected Billy to accept him walking away from the rough stock business without an argument. Maybe he should give up the place in Montana, although that wouldn’t be fair to his parents. They’d partnered with him because he needed them to, not for themselves. They couldn’t sell now and expect to make any money on the deal.
He couldn’t make a good decision to save his life—his stupid, pointless life.
He took off his hat and ran his fingers through his hair, pulling it with the weight of his tension. “Hell, if I know,” he finally answered.
Billy motion to the bartender, who set two shot glasses in front of them and poured. Jace studied the glass in front of him.
Billy threw the shot back and waited for Jace to do the same. He was already light-headed from the three shots he’d had when he walked up to the bar. He wasn’t sure he could stand another one. He pushed the glass in Billy’s direction.
