Chapter 11 A Bit Wild
A Bit Wild
Quinn
Ipush the small shopping cart down the aisles, tossing in everything we’ll need for the week.
I’d called Sawyer earlier and volunteered to take over most of the supper duty while I’m here—one less thing for her to stress about.
My meal plan limits sodium and keeps the red meat to a minimum.
Pops might be the one recovering, but Wes and Tripp could stand to think about their arteries too.
Good habits should start before there’s a cardiac event.
I round the corner and collide straight into another cart.
“Ope, sorry,” the guy says as I mutter an expletive.
We both laugh awkwardly. I glance up—and blink. Kyle Jensen. He was in my grade, more jock than brain, but cute in that Midwestern farm-boy way.
“Quinn Dawson,” he says, smiling. “Didn’t know you were back in town.”
“I’m shocked you haven’t heard. I’m sure it will be front-page news in next week’s Cottonwood Creek Gazette.”
“Right.” He chuckles, gaze traveling down my body slowly enough for me to catch it. “What are you doing back? God, I haven’t seen you in ages.”
“I’m here helping out after Pops' heart attack.”
“Oh, yeah. I heard. How’s he doing?”
“Had a bypass. He’s doing rehab at the nursing home now, but he should be home soon.”
“That’s good to hear.” He leans casually on the cart, like he has all the time in the world to shoot the breeze.
Linda Andreasen, the town busybody, squeezes past us—cart wheels squeaking as she gives us an overly interested look. I take that as my cue.
“Well, I should probably get going. These groceries won’t buy themselves,” I say with a half-laugh, mentally face-palming myself.
God, why was I so lame?
Kyle doesn’t seem to notice my social awkwardness. “Got any plans tonight?”
“Other than feeding my pig? Nope.”
He gives me a blank look. “You have a pig?”
I wave him off. “Never mind. Forget I said anything.” He doesn’t need to hear about Winston.
He smirks. “So, no plans then? There’s line dancing at Herds. You interested?”
I bite the inside of my cheek. Is this what Marlowe meant about focusing more on myself? Taking a night to go out and have some fun—let loose a little.
It had been ages since I’d been to Herds.
“Does Paula still run the place?” I ask.
“Who else?”
I shift, suddenly self-conscious. “Line dancing sounds fun. It’s been a minute. I might be a little rusty.”
“I can teach you.” He winks, and I let out a breath.
“Uh, yeah, sure. I’d love to.”
“Are you staying at the ranch?”
I nod.
“Great. I’ll pick you up at six.”
Oh, this was a date date. I tried not to blanch at the thought.
“Sounds good. I’ll see you then.”
I steer my cart around him, my stomach flipping with nerves. I’d never had a one-night stand, but maybe that's exactly what I need.
Casual.
A little irresponsible.
A bit wild.