Page 62 of Lost Trust

Then she turns her attention to Axle. “You need to get going.”

He scowls, and I swear he looks like a grown-ass man who doesn’t want to go to school. But he finally bends down and kisses her.

“I love you. I’ll call when I land,” he tells her.

“Love you more.”

He straightens reluctantly and starts down the steps. I follow and meet him at his truck.

For a second, neither of us says anything.

Then Axle cuts his eyes to me. “I don’t like going without you.”

The words land heavier than they should.

I shove my hands into my pockets. “You’ll be fine.”

He shakes his head.

“When you’re not on the back of a bull, your sponsors are going to keep you so damn busy that you won’t even realize I’m not there.”

He snorts. “Bullshit.”

I grin. “I’ll be back on the road with you in no time.”

“You’d better be. Take care of that shoulder, and for fuck’s sake, listen to Jovie so I don’t have to kick your ass for her.”

“I will.” I clap him on the shoulder. “And don’t do anything stupid in Reno. Especially anything that gets you hurt. Because then I’ll have to kick your ass for Jovie.”

“Jovie has no problem kicking both your stubborn asses herself,” she calls from the porch.

I pull him into a one-armed hug. He squeezes my good shoulder once before letting go.

“Take care of yourself, asshole.”

“You too.” He climbs into his truck, starts the engine, and pulls away.

I stand there, watching until his taillights disappear down the road.

A moment later, Jovie comes down the steps and stops beside me.

She slips her hands into the pockets of her hoodie, watching the empty driveway. “I don’t know who he’s going to miss more.”

I glance at her.

“You or me?”

I laugh out loud. “Trust me”—I bump my shoulder against hers—“it’s you.”

Marina is waiting for me when I pull up in front of the main house. Clean-faced and wearing a pair of fitted jeans ripped at the knees, a tank top, and a long-sleeved flannel tied around her waist. A Cowtown Rodeo ball cap is pulled low over her eyes.

And damn if she doesn’t look just as good as she did, all made up, last night.

Maybe better.

She climbs into the passenger seat, buckles up, and settles in with her hands folded loosely in her lap. For the first few miles, she stares out the window as the mountains roll past, early morning sunlight spilling across her face every time we round a curve.

Every few minutes, she checks her phone.