Have Mercy - Christina Lee Page 0,56

be a soldier.” I could feel myself trembling, knowing what was coming in only twenty-four hours. It was the day before he was going to be blown to the high heavens.

“Hey, you all right?” I felt Kerry’s hand on my shoulder and heard his concerned voice, but it sounded tinny and far away. “It’s okay, Julian…we’re at the rodeo. You let me know if you need somethin’.”

The rodeo.

He gently nudged me to sit down, which brought me out of the memory. I blinked and looked around, my cheeks hot with embarrassment. “I’m sorry.”

“Never be sorry,” he said close to my ear. “It’s a side effect of your trauma. It’s part of you, and you shouldn’t have to apologize.”

Fuck, I could’ve kissed him for that.

“It’s gotten better,” I said, wanting to reassure him as well as myself. “It was worse when I first got home. I thought the busy streets were gonna swallow me up.”

“I can imagine.”

“I think the only reason Mom thought I was ready for this was because I seemed better,” I confessed. “Plus, she knew the city was too much for me. That leaving for something less noisy and crowded would do me good.”

“Was she right?”

“Yeah, definitely. So, thanks. For…well, everything.”

More shoulder pressure as we fell into a comfortable silence. I didn’t feel like I needed to explain or say much more. I could just sit there and get my head together again.

Once the rodeo was over, we followed the crowd out to the parking lot. I noticed how he lingered near the entrance to the field to see if he could spot Zee. But the popular cowboy was surrounded on all sides by a crowd of people congratulating him and wanting photos.

“Do you want to wait so you can—”

“Nah.” He pulled out his phone. “We’d be here all night.”

He scrolled to Zee’s name and sent off a text I sneakily read over his shoulder. Congrats. Amazing as usual. We’ll catch up soon.

18

Kerry

Damn, being at the rodeo with Julian, telling him about Zee and everything else we’d freely admitted to each other made me feel wired, needing release. I could barely take being next to him with scarcely a centimeter between us while surrounded by a stadium full of people. But we’d set the boundary from the onset of the drive—that we needed to move on from the kiss—so maybe a different sort of outing was in order for both of us.

I placed my hat on the seat between us and forked my fingers through my hair, hoping to make it look somewhat decent. “Feel like stopping somewhere for a beer?”

“Yeah, sounds good,” he replied, distracted as he looked out the passenger side window.

As soon as we got on the road, I went in the opposite direction of Cottonwood Creek, hoping I was making the right call.

“It’s a bar I frequent sometimes when I’m…” I trailed off, and when he got my meaning, his eyes widened. “What do you think?”

“I say go for it.”

I nodded, relieved he was into it. “Bet there’s tons of places in the big city.”

“Definitely…but I’m glad you actually found somewhere you…”

“Feel safe to be myself for a night?”

“Yeah, that.”

When I pulled in front of the place, I suddenly saw the gay cowboy bar through Julian’s more sophisticated eyes and felt embarrassed at how hokey it might’ve seemed from the outside with the gigantic lighted cowboy and horse on the sign. Christ.

We were silent as we stepped out of the truck and made our way inside, almost like there was this quiet reverence about it—or maybe it was just apprehension.

Inside the place was a bit dimmer, with dark wooden tables, a small dance floor, pool tables, and even a jukebox with a decent selection of popular music.

I found us seats at the end of the long bar, greeting regulars I recognized, as well as the bartender. Julian got plenty of interested looks, which didn’t surprise me one bit. He was gorgeous, I could at least admit that.

We ordered beers and settled into the atmosphere, which had a quiet sort of buzz. Some men swayed together on the dance floor, and as Julian’s gaze swung around the space, he spotted the dart board. “Wanna play?”

So we sipped our beers and played the best of three, and damn, his aim was way better than mine. “Suppose it makes sense for someone with weapons training.”

“You’ve never shot a gun?” he asked as he gathered our darts in a pile and left them on the ledge near the