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“I guess you’ve seen a lot of the world now,” Rory said, her tone light and almost wispy.
Jesse grunted. “I’ve seen one place so far. Iraq.” He shook his head. “Zero out of ten, don’t recommend. Not now, at least. Maybe one day it’ll be better . . . but . . .” His tone was bitter. The sweetness gone.
Rory grabbed his arm. “Sorry,” Rory whispered. “You okay?”
That was a question I wanted to ask him myself but kept those two little words trapped behind my lips, so I didn’t simply echo my best friend.
“I’m fine.” He expelled a heavy breath. “Feel like playing pool?”
Rory let go of him, then peered at me. “I’m good. I’m going to catch up with Marcus. Haven’t seen him in months. He always has fun stories.” Rory nudged me in the side. “I bet Ella would love to play a game with you.”
“I mean . . . if you want to?” I asked him.
Rory took off before either of us had a chance to stop her.
“Maybe remind me how to hold the stick?” The stick? Can I be more obvious? “The cue stick, I mean. I have no experience with other, um, sticks.” Holy shit. What is wrong with me? I don’t babble. After a quick facepalm, and more than likely a deep blush setting in my cheeks, I finally chanced a look at him.
Jesse brought a closed fist to his mouth and faked a cough. “Um, sure. I’ll teach you to hold a stick.”
Why on God’s green earth I dropped my focus to his crotch was beyond me, but when I peered up at him, Jesse had one eye closed as if as embarrassed as me.
“Er, you know what I mean.” He gave me a cute little lopsided smile, thoughts of Iraq seemingly gone now. “Come on.” His hand went to my back for a split second before he pulled it away. “Let’s do it.” He squeezed the bridge of his nose. “Pool, I mean. Not it-it.”
Am I making this up, or is he . . . nervous?
“Define ‘it-it,’” I pressed, unable to stop the words from tumbling from my mouth.
He playfully rolled his eyes, then lifted his chin. “Girl . . .” was all he said with a smile, then grabbed a stick and handed it to me. “Rack ’em up.”
* * *
“I can drive them home. I’ll come back for her car in the morning.” Jesse took the keys from Rory.
“You weren’t supposed to drink,” Beckett drawled as we stood in the parking lot of the bar.
“Aw.” Rory pushed up in her boots and pinched my brother’s cheek. “Your scowl is kind of adorable.”
“It was one shot of whiskey to celebrate. You were all doing it.” I shrugged, my attention shooting to Jesse who kept fidgeting with the car keys, eyeing me like . . . well, I couldn’t quite figure out what kind of look he was giving me. It was new.
“Yeah, yeah. But no driving allowed now.” Beckett faced Jesse again. “I’ve got a truck full of drunk guys, or I’d take them home.”
“My parents’ place is on the way to the ranch. I’ll drop Rory off, then take Ella home. It’s no problem,” Jesse insisted.
Alone with Jesse in his truck? Wait . . .
I mean . . .
Okay.
“See you tomorrow, Papa Bear,” Rory teased Beckett, loving to give that man a hard time.
“Papa? I doubt I’ll ever have kids,” Beckett said, then shooed us away, urging us to get into Jesse’s truck.
“I’ll take the back since I’m getting out first,” Rory decided before I could protest.
Jesse opened the passenger door for me, his gaze climbing up from my cowgirl boots all the way to my lips.
Well then. “Thank you.”
