Page 8 of Knox
“A long time ago. Not anymore.”
Something about his tone spoke just a little of wistfulness.
Then he looked at her, and a smile hitched up the side of his face. “You have to be young and a little crazy to get on the back of a bull like Hot Pete.” He wore the smallest glint of dare in his eyes and for a second…
“You want to ride him, don’t you?”
He frowned at her, then looked away. “No.”
Except… “You do.”
He considered her a moment, then, “Maybe. But those days are gone. I’m too…”
“Old?”
He drew up. “Practical. I haven’t been on a bull for years. And I have a ranch to run. I don’t have room in my life for…”
“Crazy?”
He seemed to stare through her. Nodded, slowly.
She looked away. Right. She didn’t know why his response pinched. Except, it wasn’t like she’d ever see him again. With any sort of luck, after tomorrow she’d have a permanent gig with NBR-X and be moving on to the next fairground, the next basket of cheese curds, maybe even another try at buffalo wings in the beer tent.
Without the debacle.
Because she just needed steady, safe, and consistent, and then maybe the demons would die for good.
“Are you here all weekend?” she asked, not sure why.
“Leaving tomorrow right after the rodeo.”
Oh. Well, good.
“You?”
“After the show, tomorrow night.” Really, it was the truth. “I’m just here with a couple girlfriends for the weekend.” If she said anything more, he might hear hope in her voice. No, not hope…she’d put any ideas of romance long behind her. Who would want anyone with her wounds?
“Right,” he said and got up. Stared down at her. “We probably need a ride on the Ferris wheel.”
She raised an eyebrow, then glanced at the circle glimmering against the dark. “Really?”
He nodded, and those blue-green eyes made it seem like exactly the right idea.
He led the way and she followed, frustrated at her fluttering heart.
And why, when he climbed into the basket, she took his proffered hand. Sat next to him, under the stretch of his arm.
They ascended slowly, stopping for more passengers, and he said nothing beside her, not drawing her close, simply letting his arm linger behind her.
In case, perhaps, she got cold.
But the night air contained just enough warmth to keep a shiver at bay, and as they rose, the entirety of San Antonio spread out below them. The sparkling lights of the Grand Hyatt, the spire of the Tower of the Americas, the bright orange tower of the Weston Centre behind the Crowne Plaza. Orange, red, gold, and below them, the midway, the screams and blinking lights of the rides adding festivity to the night.
“It’s so pretty from up here,” she said quietly.
“Yes,” Knox said. Took a breath. “It’s always good to get a different perspective. It changes your vision of things.”
She glanced at him. He smelled good, the faintest hint of aftershave on his skin.