“I only made one pair of those, Bullet. They were custom.”
“You gonna do more custom work? I mean can fellas order custom chaps from your company?”
“I guess so. It isn’t something I’ve thought much about, but you’re right. Professional cowboys would want something custom, not something off the rack. It’s a good idea, Bullet.”
“Then, I guess I need to be in your show after all.”
“Oh, yeah? Do you have yours with you?”
“C’mon, Tristan, they’re my good luck charm. Why do you think I’m ridin’ so good?”
Tristan bristled. “We need to talk, Bullet.”
“Wait a minute. What just happened? What did I say?”
“It’s what Harris says. He needs me back because I’m his good luck charm.”
Whenever the comparisons between the two men came too close, she would get visibly upset.
“There’s a difference. I said the chaps were my good luck, not you.”
She smiled again and punched his arm.
“You’re right, though. Let’s talk.” Bullet motioned to the two chairs by the window and helped Tristan move the clothing out of the way.
“Since we saw each other at Pikes Peak or Bust, I’ve been wantin’ to have this conversation with you. I put it off then, and I can’t put it off any longer. I don’t know if it woulda helped or hurt what happened in October with the subpoena, but I know this, Tristan.” He leaned forward and looked into her eyes. “I’m not ever gonna lie to you about anything ever again. Even if the truth is hard to tell, or even if I’m gonna hurt your feelings, I’m not gonna tell you any lies.”
“You sound like Lyric.”
Bullet laughed. “That’s the thing with her. We may not like what she says, but we always know Lyric is tellin’ the truth. I wanna be more like that.”
As uncomfortable as it was for them both, Bullet told Tristan everything he could think of about his past. All of it. That he’d never been faithful to Callie; the dares he took from his buddies when they’d go out drinkin’; even how, one night, he’d had sex with three different women.
“I’m not proud of any of it,” he told her. “But if the day comes that we’re together and someone from my past decides to tell a story of what we did one night when we were out drinkin’, I don’t want to feel as though I have to hide it from you.”
Tristan closed her eyes and took a deep breath.
“Tell me what you’re thinkin’ right now.”
“This is not a conversation I ever imagined myself a part of.”
“How much are you hatin’ me right now?”
“I don’t hate you, Bullet.” She took another deep breath. “You have lived the life I imagined you had. Not just you, most of the guys that compete in rodeo live that life. A lot of the girls too. Or some anyway.”
“But not you.”
“No, not me. I’ve had sex with two men in my life. You and Harris Jones. Do you want to know what I worry about?”
“Yes, I do.” He was solemn. He dreaded the words she was about to say.
He knew, without her saying it, that she was worried he’d never be able to break out of that life. That she’d never be able to trust him not to sleep with women who offered. He couldn’t blame her, and there wasn’t any way for him to prove her wrong.
“What if I’m not enough?”
“You think I’m gonna get bored?”
She lowered her eyes. “Yes.”