“It is.”
“Have you done it?”
“Once, when I was younger. I didn’t last long, and it hurt like hell.”
“Why do they do it?”
“Why does anybody do anything? It appeals to them, in the same way any sport appeals to the athlete who plays it. Also”—I point to the small group of women near the arena floor—“the buckle bunnies might have something to do with it.”
Tenley follows my gaze. “Buckle bunnies…” She draws out the word as she understands what I mean by it. Nodding, she says, “Gotcha.”
Dakota begins yawning, which makes Tenley yawn, and Wes announces he’s taking Dakota home.
Tenley says she’s ready to leave too, so we all get up and file out of our row. We’re in the parking lot when someone calls Tenley’s name. It’s a dude with a big camera, and he’s pointing it at Tenley, taking pictures as he asks, “Can I get your photo?”
Tenley slips into her gracious actress version of herself. “Sure.” She steps away and poses, angling herself toward the light coming from an old wooden post with a lantern hanging off the top.
“More,” the guy says when she stops.
She laughs, but I’m positive she’s not finding him funny. “I think you got your shot.”
“Is this the man you were seen kissing recently?” Now he’s peering at me, camera pointing. Snap, snap.
Anger bursts through me. “She said you got your shot already.” I’m talking through clenched teeth, trying to keep my anger in check, for Tenley’s sake.
He ignores me. “Tenley, why are your parents rushing to sell their house in Aspen?”
Tenley’s easygoing façade disappears. “I, uh…”
“Is it true they’re having financial trouble?” He steps closer. “How do you feel about Tate moving on so soon? Are you mad he proposed to her but not you?”
The next thing I know, there is a camera in my hand.
“Hey,” the photographer screeches, reaching for the camera. I block him with an outstretched palm. “Now do you understand the lady said she’s done having her picture taken?” He reaches again, and I push him. He stumbles back a few feet but manages to stay upright. Wes and Wyatt step between us. I remove the SD card from the camera and toss it to Wyatt. He takes a lighter from his pocket and waves the small rectangle through the lick of flame. No matter how much shit we give one another, there will never come a time when the Hayden boys don’t stick together.
I fling the camera back to the asshole, who fumbles what is likely his most valuable possession. He doesn’t give either of us a glance as he hurries back across the parking lot.
“Warner,” Tenley says my name like she’s not totally happy with me.
Wes and Dakota mutter a quick good night and move on to his truck, and without another word Wyatt walks back into the bar. Tenley steps away from the pocket of light she’d stood in.
A muscle along my jaw tics. “I couldn’t let him keep bothering you. He should’ve listened.”
Tenley sighs. “I’ve been dealing with that crap my entire life. My parents were famous, remember? I know how to handle those situations.”
“You seemed caught off guard. You looked upset.”
“Maybe I was,” she concedes. “I didn’t know anything about my parents selling their place. Or about Tate.” She steps into me, pressing her cheek to my chest.
“Are you upset about Tate?” I’m hoping she gives me the answer I want to hear.
“Not sad. More annoyed than anything else. With myself.”
“Because…?”
“Because I should’ve listened to my heart. I dated him because it was easy. He was nice. He was my professional equal. Never mind all the feelings I was having on the inside. I should really listen to myself—” Her words cut off as she looks up at me.
“What?”
She shakes her head. “Nothing.”
I’m too stubborn to let that one go. “It must’ve been something.”
The palm she places on my chest is firm. She takes a step back and looks me square in the eye. “Just a memory of Tate.”
I know she’s lying. If it weren’t for the twinge in my stomach, the gut instinct telling me what I know to be true, all I’d have to do is look into her eyes. I see fear in them. Agony.
I swallow her words. I need the lie just as much as she does.
When we get back to my house, and I’m inside her, the lie in her eyes melts away. What she tells me with her body is the truth.
“Way to go, Warner.”
Sunday morning breakfast at the homestead always has some teasing, some laughter, and some foul language. It’s just not usually directed at me.
Jessie drops something in front of me, and it lands on the table with a dull thud.
“Christ,” I say when I see the picture on her phone. Inches from my real, in the flesh face, is me in electronic format. I look angry, with my eyebrows drawn and my hand outstretched as I take away the photographer’s camera.
Thank God I showed up this morning to find my mom had already fed Peyton and Charlie breakfast and sent them to help the cowboys throw hay to the horses. They don’t need to see any of this.
I sift through my memory of last night, trying but failing to see a second photographer. Clearly there was one somewhere, hiding in the shadows of the shitty parking lot lighting at the Chute.
Jessie sits down across from me. Her smirk irritates me further.
Pushing the phone across the table, I say, “He was ignoring Tenley when she said to stop taking her picture, and I stood up for her. I don’t know why my reaction amuses you.”
“I’m not amused or surprised about your reaction. Protecting what’s yours is so ingrained in this family, I don’t know if it’s nurture or nature at this point.”
Protecting what’s yours…
Is Tenley mine? Mine to have, mine to protect… mine to love?
I’ve been going over questions similar to those since I opened my eyes this morning. No matter what I tell myself about it all being too much, too soon, I can’t seem to push it away completely. My brain understands that I’m a divorced single father trying like hell to figure out where to go from here, but my heart doesn’t give two fucks. It’s a needy, selfish bastard.
“What I’m saying, Warner,” Jessie speaks my name with extra attitude, pulling my attention back to her, “is that it’s painfully obvious you have strong feelings for her.”
“What’s that?” My mom walks up behind Jessie and looks down at her phone. The rest of my family files in behind my mom, all taking their places around the table.
Mom takes in the photo of me. Her gaze rises, stays on me for a long beat, then she goes to sit beside my dad. Everyone is quiet, waiting to hear what’s on Jessie’s phone. When nothing comes, my dad loses his patience. “Either say it or let’s move on,” he grumbles. He has zero tolerance for drama of any kind. He’s a shoot straight and don’t ask questions kind of guy.
Wyatt grabs the phone from Jessie. A cursory glance tells him all he needs to know. Besides, he was there. “Warner is experiencing a Wes and Dakota situation. He’s in love with Tenley but he won’t cowboy up and tell her.”