Page 6 of Jack of All Trades
Rex snorts. "You got all the good genes."
"We only talked for a minute," I continue, keeping my voice casual. "He seems... friendly."
"Jack's the best," Rex says with genuine warmth. "Known him since we were kids. He's had my back more times than I can count."
"You told me he was a rodeo rider, right?" I ask, pretending I don't already know the answer.
"One of the best in the state," Rex confirms. "But don't tell him I said that. His head's big enough already."
I laugh, the sound more genuine than I expected. "I'll keep that in mind."
Tomorrow at noon, I'll see him again. I tell myself it's just for party planning, just for Rex, but… Deep down, I’m already not sure.
Chapter 3 - Jack
I'm up with the sun, like always. Some habits you can't break, and for me, early mornings are as natural as breathing. I stretch, feeling the familiar ache in my shoulder from yesterday's practice ride, and swing my legs over the side of the bed.
Through my window, I can see the backyard where we'll be hosting Rex's party. It's nothing fancy. Just a patch of grass with my mom's old flower beds along the fence, but it's home. I make a mental note to mow it before Maya comes over.
Maya. Rex's sister.
I shake my head, trying to dislodge the image of her that seems to have taken up permanent residence in my mind. Those green eyes flashing with challenge. That curtain of dark hair she uses like a shield. The way her laugh, when I finally coaxed it out of her, sounded surprised, like she hadn't meant to let it escape.
"Get it together, Morrison," I mutter to myself as I head for the shower. "She's Rex's little sister. Off-limits in about twelve different ways."
Besides, she's made it abundantly clear she's not interested. She's got me pegged as some shallow rodeo cowboy who charms his way through an endless parade of women.
And okay, maybe there's some truth to that. But it's not the whole story. Never has been.
The hot water helps clear my head, and by the time I'm dressed in worn jeans and a faded blue t-shirt, I've managed to convince myself that my interest in Maya is purely about making this party work for Rex. That's all.
I head downstairs, the old wooden steps creaking in the familiar places. The house is quiet in the morning light, filled withghosts of memories. Mom in the kitchen making pancakes. Dad teaching us boys how to fix a leaky faucet. Ethan coming home from his first deployment, thin and haunted. Michael hunched over college applications at the kitchen table. David tossing a football in the living room despite Mom's strict no-ball-in-the-house rule.
Now it's just me rattling around in these rooms, keeping the place alive because someone had to. Michael offered to buy me a newer, nicer house when his tech company took off, but I couldn't do it. This place isn't just walls and a roof. It's the last connection to the family we were.
I make coffee and take it out to the front porch, settling into the old rocking chair that's been there since before I was born. The street is quiet, most of Pine Haven still asleep. Mrs. Larson across the way is an early riser like me; I can see her watering her roses, and I lift my mug in greeting when she glances over.
This is what I love about Pine Haven. The simplicity of it. The way time seems to slow down here. My brothers never understood why I stayed when they all left for bigger, more exciting lives. But this is where I belong, dirt roads and all.
My phone buzzes on the porch railing, and I reach for it, expecting a text from one of my brothers or maybe my manager about the upcoming rodeo circuit.
Instead, it's Maya.
*Still good for noon? Need to know what decorations you already have so I don't duplicate.*
Straight to business. No good morning, no how are you. I find myself smiling despite the brusque tone of her message.
*Morning to you too, sunshine. Noon works. Don't have much in the way of decorations. Some string lights maybe.*
I hesitate, then add:
*Looking forward to seeing you again.*
I hit send before I can overthink it, then watch as the typing bubble appears, disappears, and reappears again.
Finally, her response comes through:
*It's just party planning. Don't make it weird.*
