Page 69 of Bloom

Damn it.Not quite as convincing as earlier.

I'm achingly aware that if he dug his heels in, it wouldn't take much more for me to fold. He must know it; he must hear it. Yet, to my surprise, he gives up. “Okay.”

When his hands drop and I feel him step away, I glance over my shoulder with a frown. A weird sense of disappointment washes over me as he strides back over to his friends. They all act like they weren't just watching our every move, suddenly finding their game of pool a lot more interesting than it was a moment ago. When they dissolve into rapid conversation, I look away.

A minute later, I jump in surprise when a hand curves around my waist again, lingering for a moment before stealing my purse. Hunter doesn't even give me a chance to question him as he lifts me up and off the stool, settling me down on unsteady legs.

I grip his forearms for balance for a split second before I remember myself and rip my hands away. “I said I don’t wanna go home.”

Yet as he guides me to the door, I don’t put up all that fierce of a fight.

And when fingers intertwine with mine, gripping tightly, I don’t fight that either. “I'm not bringing you home.”

20

He went out to drown his sorrows.

He never expected her to do the same thing.

True to his word,Hunter doesn't take me home.

At least, he doesn't take me tomyhome.

I know the route to Serenity Ranch like the back of my hand. I’ve driven the dusty road bisecting the vast landscape too many times to keep track of. I’m not sure all the alcohol in the world could erase it from my mind.

I should’ve known he would take me here. Where else would he bring me? Short of tracking down Aldo, Lux is his only choice.Myonly choice. A sobering thought—although, not too sobering, thankfully. Not sobering enough for the full scale of the situation to slap me in the face.

In the passenger seat of Hunter’s truck, I slump against the doorframe, staring out across the scenery illuminated only by headlights and the clear midnight sky. Wind rushes in through the open window, whipping my hair around my face and carrying the scent of a warm, dry night in the middle of nowhere.

I breathe it in greedily, wanting more.Needingmore; the broody silence filling the truck’s interior is too stifling, too all-consuming, toodisappointed. Like Hunter is biting back a reprimand or another cutting barb, or maybe he’s going to let Lux do the scolding. Whatever the reason for it, I don’t like the loaded quiet.

I dare to break it, the fear of being ignored outweighed by the choking silence. “Who were those guys at Bishop’s?”

The arm propped on the open driver’s side window tenses, the bulging muscles almost as distracting as the scrape of a large hand down a bearded jaw. I kind of expect Hunter not to answer—I’m almost positive he won’t.

He proves me wrong. “They work at Alder Grove.”

“Oh.” The ranch next door to Serenity? I wonder how they met; the people who work there rarely come into Haven Ridge since they’re closer to the next town over. They probably bumped into each other while repairing the fence marking the ranches' borders and bonded over the manly act of hammering wooden stakes into the ground. “Who?”

Hunter rattles off a handful of names. Only one stands out.

“Everett?” I repeat, a light bulb going off in my head. “EverettJames? No way.”

Hunter slides me an inquisitive look. “You know him?”

“Not personally.” Like I would ever run in the same circle as the crown freaking jewel of Haven Ridge. “But everyoneknowshim.”

Another curious glance silently asks me to elaborate.

“Really?” I can’t help but laugh. “Y’all didn’t have a single conversation? Just grunted at each other?” Another giggle escapes as I imagine what a sight that must’ve been; a huddle of grown men communicating through grumbles and huffs. I almost wish I’d been sober and aware enough to witness it. “He’sa bull rider. A good one. He won…” My face scrunches as I think. “Whatever that big competition is. Twice, I think.”

Thick fingers tap against the steering wheel. “Huh.”

“I can’t believe I didn’t know I was right next to Everett James all night.” I sigh as I slump even further in my seat. My head flops towards Hunter, and I wonder if I’m imagining the hard lines of his face suddenly becoming even harder. “I wonder why he’s back.”

Unsurprisingly, Hunter doesn’t know. Just as predictably, he doesn’t make an effort to keep the conversation going, and that freaking silence settles again, making me nauseous with its intensity.

I break it again when I undo my seatbelt. The soft click of it disengaging elicits a grunted command to put it back on, which I ignore. I ignore Hunter some more as I clumsily scramble onto my knees, the bruises I’ve yet to see, but sure can feel, protesting as they meet worn leather. Whatever he says as I stick my head out the window, I don’t hear, what with the rushing wind muffling his voice, but even if I did, I’d ignore it too.

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