Page 57 of Enticed
“I’m Gabe, Jasmine’s…” he began, his gaze flicking to me as he tried to decide on a label. “Trainer,” he finished, his brief hesitation seemingly going unnoticed.
“Nice to meet ya,” Elliot replied.
“Likewise,” Gabe said flatly.
Just then, the band began to play my favorite Brooks and Dunn song, and I perked up. “I love this song,” I announced. Elliot studied me for a moment before holding his hand out, palm up.
“Wanna dance?” he asked, and I reflexively looked to Gabe. His jaw ticced in annoyance, but he said nothing.
“You don’t mind if I steal her away for a spin, do ya?” Elliot asked.
“Not at all.” Gabe’s passionless voice cut through me, and I swallowed down my disappointment. I’d secretly hoped he’d tell Elliot to get lost like he had Brad.
Forcing a smile, I slipped my hand into Elliot’s and slid out of my chair. There was no logical reason to turn him down. I wanted to dance. He wanted to dance with me. Gabe didn’t. I wanted to have fun, to live my life to the fullest, not waste it pining after a man who would likely never choose me. So when Elliot led me onto the dance floor, I didn’t look back to see if Gabe was watching because it wouldn’t change a damn thing.
CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR
GABE
Iwanted to flip a fucking table.
I wanted to break the closest beer bottle over a complete stranger’s head.
I wanted to walk out on that dance floor, rip that man’s hands off Jasmine, and carry her out of here “An Officer and a Gentleman” style as she took my hat and placed it on her head. I didn’t know if that gesture held the same meaning when it was a service cap, but it would certainly signify what I wanted Jasmine to do to me.
Watching Elliot twirl and dip her made my stomach clench and my pulse pound with envy. It was so painful, I had to turn away. I couldn’t stand the sight of it. But I had to admit this was probably what was best for her. He was an age appropriate match. They had shared interests and passion for their respective sports. Her family was far more likely to approve of a relationship between them than they would one between us. And it was obvious they had a history. I’d suspected it before, but she’d all but confirmed it with the blush that tinted her cheeks and the familiarity with which they touched. Had they fucked?Had he seen her glorious form completely bare like I had? Did he know what she tasted like?
The mere thought sent a wave of rage crashing over me. I clenched my fisted hands together atop the table to keep from using them to pummel his young, stupidly handsome face. He wouldn’t be so perfect for her with two black eyes, a crooked nose, and a few broken teeth. I didn’t consider myself a violent man, but Jasmine brought out every primal urge I had to protect what was mine.
But she wasn’t mine. I was too chicken shit to face the inevitable wrath of her father to change that.
Drawing in a deep breath, I blew it out slowly and tried to calm my temper. All they were doing was dancing. Jasmine was just young and having fun. That was what she was supposed to do at this stage in her life. She wasn’t supposed to be hanging out with an old man like me and watching movies and getting ice cream with my daughter. She wasn’t supposed to be knitting chinchillas and braiding hair and riding carnival rides with someone else’s kid. But yet, that was exactly what she’d been doing for the last couple months, and she’d seemed to enjoy every moment. Maybe it was time for me to stop assuming I knew what was best for her and let her decide for herself.
Jasmine was breathless, and perspiration dotted her skin when she returned to the table. Much to my chagrin, Elliot followed close behind. She picked up her drink and took a long pull from the straw.
“Thanks for asking me to dance. That was fun,” Jasmine said.
“It was my pleasure,” Elliot replied.
I just bet it was, I thought, jealousy rearing its ugly head again.
“A few of us are going to the bar across the street when we’re done here. We heard they have a mechanical bull. I want to see how well I fair on it compared to the real thing,” Elliotsaid, flashing her what I assumed was supposed to be a panty-dropping smile. “Do you want to join us?”
Jasmine’s gaze skirted to me. Elliot noted the shift and the question in her eyes. “We won’t be out too late,” he assured us both. “I know you’ve got another race in the morning, and I’ve got to prep for my competition too. I’ll have her back by eleven,” he promised like I enforced a curfew on her. The implication made me sick.
Noticing my scowl, he backpedaled. “Or you can come with us,” he offered. “You look like you know your way around a bull,” he added with a nervous chuckle.
I shook my head. “My bull riding days are long over, and I’m too old for barhopping.” Elliot’s shoulders visibly relaxed at me turning down the obligatory offer. “But Jasmine is free to do as she pleases. She doesn’t answer to me.” I wanted her to turn down his offer with every molecule in my body, but I also wouldn’t hold her back. The choice was hers, and I wouldn’t stand in her way or try to sway her. Anger flared in her eyes, but it was soon replaced by vengeful determination.
“You know what, that actually sounds like a lot of fun. Let’s do it,” she said, injecting faux excitement into her tone. Dread washed over me and flooded my system. I’d just made a grave miscalculation. What if I’d just pushed her straight into the arms of another man?
Regret twisted my gut, but it was too late to take it back. They were already halfway to the bar where they were greeted by a group of guys in cowboy hats and two women I recognized as barrel racers Jasmine had competed against today. They exchanged a few words before heading for the door. Jasmine glanced over her shoulder, her eyes finding mine in the crowd as her face twisted with a mournful expression. Then a mask of indifference slid into place and she turned away, disappearing through the doors.
But not before I saw Elliot’s hand clutched in hers.
I was toorestless to sit in the trailer and wait for Jasmine to return. I’d nearly worn a hole in the floor with my pacing. Checking my phone for what felt like the hundredth time, I deflated at the lack of missed calls or messages from her. I contemplated calling her under the guise of checking in. I tried to convince myself it was only because I worried about her having issues with her blood sugar or insulin pump, but really it was because I was terrified she was hooking up with Elliot.
The anxiety buzzing beneath my skin grew to an unbearable level, so I grabbed my keys and headed toward the horse stalls. It always calmed my nerves to go for a walk and take care of Juniper.
