Page 93 of Bull Riders Don't Swoon

“Oh, I asked the bartender, actually. He said every night they physically comb the sand here and clean up anything like that, but we could walk around the corner where the trees are thicker, or he said to just wade out and look in the water.”

Jamieson’s hand covers mine, and I turn my head towards him. “We’ll get you some shells, Griff. Even if I have to buy them at the market on the resort, I’ll get you seashells.”

There’s something extra about sitting here together on a sandy beach I never thought I’d get to visit. It’s not quite what I imagined when I was a young boy hoping to play along an ocean’s edge and searching for treasures only oceans could give up. It’s infinitely better.

“I might want to make a sandcastle.”

Jamie huffs a laugh and pulls my hand to his lips. He feathers a kiss on my wrist that makes me forget about the sandcastles.

“I’ll make sand angels if it makes you happy.”

Sliding my glasses back on my head, I shift in my chair towards him.

“What else would makeyouhappy? So far, we’ve done all the things I want. What do you want, Jamie?”

He sips from his drink, and I watch the bob of his throat as he swallows.

“I want a lot of things, Griff.” He turns his head, and his lazy smile melts my insides. “I want to fuck on the balcony at night if you can stay quiet.” He laughs softly and dusts his fingers down my neck. “You can’t blame that blush on the sun, babe.”

“No, I can’t.” I laugh. “That’s all for you.”

His warm gaze travels down my naked chest as his fingers stop at the waistband of my shorts, and I know I’m blushing even more. Jamieson will always get that reaction from me. I can’t help it.

“This trip is for you. There’s nothing else I want from it than to give you something you never had and always wanted; the beach, seashells, and a break from life. I’m completely happy just being here to share it with you.”

When he says shit like that, it’s so hard to not want to climb into his lap and drown myself in him. But it’s a public beach, and while no one’s been rude to us, I know it’s best to keep things on the down low here. Instead, I take his hand and lace our fingers together between us.

We sit like that for a while, just listening to the waves and the sounds of people on the beach. Couples splash in the water and tour boats float by while we sip fruity drinks and occasionally brush our feet together, just happy to be here.

But Jamieson has something on his mind. He’s been chewing his lip for days, and while I think I know what he wants to talk about, I don’t want to come out and ask. It has to come from him.

“I heard from the school board. If I refresh my teaching certificate by August, the job is mine.” Jamieson swallows hard. “I think it’s time I look at leaving the rodeo behind. My shoulder isn’t what it used to be.”

Jamieson ended his season last year with an injury, and before we went on this vacation, he had some serious talks with doctors and friends. He didn’t want to live in pain when he was still a young man. While it devastated him to admit he was at the end of a career he loved, he knew he’d get to mentor other riders and be involved with the sport.

“I thought something was on your mind. How do you feel about that?”

Taking his hand in mine, I squeeze it, and he looks over at me.

“It’s hard. But it would be harder to get on a bull and risk worse right now. I want to be there for you.”

His voice wavers, and I rub his hand with my thumb. “You will be. This has to be a choice that you want, Jamie. Make the choice for you and nobody else.”

He sips his drink, and we return to staring at the ocean for a short time. A group of young men runs past, joking about the loser buying drinks, and it’s an old joke on an all-inclusive resort, but I guess it's humour that never fades.

Jamieson loves bull riding. He was made for it, but what he’s also made for is teaching. He’s more afraid to face a room of 16-year-olds than a raging bull. To be fair, I would be, too. It was easier for me to step away from bullfighting. I didn’t live and breathe rodeo like Jamieson did, but I’ll get him through the hard times just like he did for me.

But first, he needs to get back in the moment and remember why we’re here.

“Let’s go look for shells.”

Jamie follows me to the water’s edge, and we walk to the trees the bartender told him about. A flash of white in the sand draws a gasp from my lips, and I burst forward, bending to pick it up before it’s washed back with the waves.

“Ohmygod, Jamie! It’s a shell! I found a shell!”

Jamie smiles in that way that wraps around me like a blanket, and before I can respond with a kiss, more shiny pieces show up,and I drop to my knees, digging through the sand for more shells. “There’s more! This one is whole!”

I’m a 31-year-old man on my knees in the ocean sand digging out pieces of seashells with the enthusiasm of a five-year-old…and I couldn’t give a single fuck what anyone who might see me thinks.

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