Page 48 of Hung Up (Shadow Ridge #1)

NAMPA

Doctor Hayes, reporting for duty

Sweetheart

Unfortunately I’ve come down with a cold so I won’t be there today.

Good luck, Pretty Boy. I’ll be watching.

I swung by her room before I left for the arena, but she didn’t answer.

I’m hoping that means she was taking a nap and not that she’s lying to me.

I truthfully couldn’t tell you why that thought even crossed my mind.

Maybe it’s my worry manifesting into fear, who knows?

But it takes a lot of effort for me to hone in and focus on my ride.

It’s a fairly simple ride, not one of much note, but it helps me clinch third and put me right back to where I was before I ended up almost flushing my season down the drain.

That knowledge brings a flood of relief rushing through me, knowing there’s only tomorrow’s ride and next weekend before the finals.

But while that knowledge brings me a sense of calm, realizing just how little time I have left with Faith sends me spiraling.

And the worst part is, I know I sound like a broken record—I just can’t help it.

She’s burrowed herself under my skin and wrapped herself around my heart, and it’s going to feel like barbed wire tearing through my skin when I have to say goodbye.

Inviting her to the ranch might have been a mistake, because I saw her everywhere I went when I was at home.

I saw her sitting at the kitchen island laughing as I danced around the kitchen and made her dinner.

I saw her curled up on the couch with her head in my lap as we watched a movie.

I saw her in my bathroom brushing her teeth next to me at the sink, making funny faces at me in the mirror.

I heard her giggle echoing through the house and soft whispers in the early morning.

I felt her hands in my hair and rubbing my shoulders.

Her smell clung to my sheets and lingered on my clothes.

She was everywhere. And I fear there’s no getting rid of her.

My mother had asked me if I’d made any headway, and I was honest when I told her that I had no idea. The only thing I know is I have twelve days remaining to make her see what I see, to believe what I believe.

We’re meant to be together.

I’m stepping out of the locker room just as Rylie walks by. I call her name and jog after her, stopping in front of her to block her path. She raises a brow, resting a hand on her hips.

“Don’t you know it’s rude to stand in a lady’s way?”

“What kind of food does Faith like to eat when she’s sick?”

Rylie’s eyes widen slightly before the corners of her lips tip upward. “She’s a noodle soup and crackers kind of girl, pretty basic. Still trying to win her over, huh?”

“Unfortunately,” I grumble, rubbing my beard before I sigh. “Any words of advice? I’m kind of running out of time.”

“Even though she couldn’t tell me how she feels, it’s blatantly obvious.

” I perk up a little at that. So I was right .

“All I can tell you is this is something she needs to acknowledge on her own. I know doing nothing is probably the hardest thing you can do, but if you push her too hard, every step forward you’ve taken will vanish.

I’m sorry I don’t have better advice, but for what it’s worth, I’m rooting for you. ”

My eyebrows lift. “Really?”

“Of course.” She nods, a sad look seeping into her expression. “You’ve brought out a side of her I haven’t seen in a very long time. I think you’re exactly the kind of man that she needs and the one she deserves. And I think you need her, too.”

“Thank you.” It comes out strained against my attempts not to sound choked up. Rylie takes a step forward and pushes herself up on the balls of her feet, throwing her arms around my shoulders.

“Hang in there,” she whispers into my ear, giving me a gentle pat on the back. “I promise she’s worth it.”

When we part, she winks before she walks off, heading toward the stands. I pull out my phone and search for the nearest shop or restaurant that has soup, heading out of the arena and toward my rental car. It’s time to surprise her with something I know she’s never had before.

I’m knocking on her door an hour later, a picnic basket hanging off one arm, a blanket off the other, and a bouquet of sunflowers in my hand.

I can hear movement on the other side of the door, and a smile instantly plants itself on my face as she opens the door, her eyes wide in surprise as she takes in what I’ve brought with me.

“Doctor Hayes, reporting for duty,” I say, winking as I tip my chin slightly. “I hope a hotel picnic isn’t too cheesy.”

She shakes her head, a light sheen coming to her eyes. “Not at all. This is so sweet of you.”

Faith steps back into the room, and I follow behind her, kicking the door shut behind me.

When I turn back to face the room, it becomes glaringly clear that she wasn’t lying to me.

There’s Kleenex scattered around the room, Mucinex, Dayquil, and Tylenol lined up on the dresser.

She’s wearing a navy blue sweatshirt and black sweatpants, her feet covered in fuzzy socks with her hair in a ball on top of her head.

She sniffles a little as she grabs the remote, and only then do I notice the tip of her nose is a little red.

“Are you sure you should be here, though?” she asks, her voice a little softer than normal. “I don’t want to get you sick. You still have to ride tomorrow.”

“Don’t worry, Sweetheart. It takes a lot to get me sick.

” I set the picnic basket on the bed and the flowers beside it, fluffing the blanket and setting it on the floor in front of the television between the foot of the bed and the dresser.

“Besides, even if it didn’t, I’d still be here, anyway.

If I can ride with broken ribs, I can ride with a cold. ”

I don’t notice how her expression changes, but I feel the shift in the room as I set the picnic basket on the blanket. I hesitate, a little nervous to lift my gaze and see what kind of look she’s giving me.

“You told me your ribs weren’t actually broken, that Wyatt was wrong.” Shit . “Did you lie to me?”

“Before you get mad at me, I lied to everybody.”

She narrows her eyes, crossing her arms. “Yes, because that makes it better. Jesse, what were you?—”

“I needed to ride, Faith. You know that.”

We stare at each other for a moment, a million words passing in the space between us without even being said. She sighs, rubbing a hand down her face before sitting on the blanket. I take that as my sign to do the same, the picnic basket putting a little bit of space between us.

“I’ll never tell you that you should stop riding because that’s not fair of me to do.” I listen quietly, knowing that, for once, this won’t turn into a conversation of being made to feel guilty about my decisions. “I just… I wish that you seemed to care a little more about your life, is all.”

“I do.”

She sighs. “I understand you think you can find a way because you always seem to find one whenever you put your mind to something.” God, I hope that’s true.

There might be some hope for me yet. “But when you sustain that kind of injury and immediately jump right back into what hurt you in the first place without being fully healed? That’s not really showing much regard for your own life, even if you think otherwise.

It’s dangerous enough riding bulls, but riding them hurt?

One wrong move and you could lose your life, Jesse. ”

I’ve received this lecture countless times from my mother and older siblings, and it always used to upset me.

I always thought they never understood, that they were just overbearing and didn’t believe I could do something as dangerous as this and be okay.

It made me feel incapable, and I just had to prove them wrong.

But hearing it from Faith feels different; it hits me in a way it never has before.

“Like I said, I’ll never try to talk you out of doing what you love,” she repeats, and I suddenly find it hard to maintain eye contact. “But it’d make me feel a lot better if you took some precautions. Are you wearing a brace or a wrap at least?”

I nod, lifting my shirt to show her the wrap I put on before my ride today.

She nods, even though she doesn’t seem completely convinced.

“Have you gotten them checked out since then?” I shake my head.

“If I set up a private doctor to come in and check you without anyone else knowing about it, would you do that?”

Her concern over my well-being—the strained expression—has me caving instantly. “Of course.”

“Thank you.”

I lean forward and cup her cheek in my hand, pressing a soft kiss to her lips before placing one to the tip of her nose.

She smiles when I pull away, her eyes landing on the basket between us.

Opening the lid, I grab the soup and set it out in front of her, reaching for the crackers next.

She beams as she cracks open the lid, the smell of the chicken noodle soup immediately filling the room.

I hand her a spoon and she doesn’t hesitate as she digs in, a moan working its way up her throat.

“This might be the best soup I’ve ever had.”

“I’m a little disappointed to know your moans aren’t reserved for just me,” I tease.

She goes for another spoonful, extending it in my direction. “Try it.”

I wrap my lips around the spoon, and the second the soup hits my tastebuds, I’m fighting back a groan of my own. “Okay, I have to agree. This is the best soup I’ve ever tasted.”

“How did you know I like chicken noodle soup?”

“I asked Rylie.”

She opens the crackers and plops one into her mouth. “Is that how you knew what shoe size I wore?” I nod. “Traitor,” she mumbles under her breath.

I can’t stop the laugh from tumbling out of me as I unwrap my sandwich.

Once we’re done eating, I throw away the wrappers before extending my hands in her direction, helping her up to her feet.

She sways slightly, no doubt a headrush from standing too quickly, and I loop my arms behind her knees and carry her to bed.

She’s got a barely visible crease between her brows as I pull the covers back and tuck her in, pressing a gentle kiss to her forehead before I walk around to the other side of the bed.

If she thought I was just going to leave her after feeding her, she had another thing coming.

I climb underneath the covers next to her and raise my arm, and she doesn’t hesitate as she curls up against me.

“How about a movie?” She nods, her arm wrapping around my midsection as I reach for the remote.

I begin to channel surf when I hear her breathing grow heavy, and I have to stop myself from laughing at just how quickly she dozed off.

Setting the remote beside me, I hug her closer, one hand gently rubbing her scalp while the other grazes up and down her arm.

As we lay there curled up in bed together, I can’t help but pray that I’ve chipped a little further into her walls.