Chapter 3 #2
Birdie’s eyes flicker discreetly around the store. “If I tell you what’s bothering me, promise you won’t judge?”
I nod. “Cross my heart.”
She moves forward, resting her elbows on the counter. “Pretty sure the guy ahead of you was flirting with me, and I totally botched it,” she confesses in a whisper.
“That was your attempt at flirting?” I taunt playfully, raising a brow.
She playfully jabs my arm. “No judging, remember?”
“Right, sorry.” I stand straight, shoving my hands in my pockets and trying to keep a straight face. “It wasn’t all bad. You’ve got the sexual innuendos down. It’s just your delivery that could use some finessing.”
“You don’t have to sugarcoat it, Walker. I told the man my chicken pooped on my flannel, and I was still planning to wear it,” she grumbles. “He was a solid nine, and my brain just short-circuited.”
I scoff, taking a step back like I’m personally offended. “Please. That wannabe cowboy was a six at best. Besides, we talk all the time, and you never have trouble speaking your mind.”
“That’s different,” she says, waving me off. “We’re friends. I’m not worried about impressing you so you’ll ask me on a date.”
I choke, immediately bringing my fist up to mask it with a cough. If she only knew.
“So…” I clear my throat and rock back on my heels. “What you’re saying is I’m good-looking too, but it doesn’t count because we’re friends?”
Birdie gives me an exasperated sigh. “I may be socially awkward, but I’m not blind.
You’re obviously hot. Half the women in town wouldn’t circle you like vultures if you weren’t.
Not that I’m one of them… I’m just lucky to have you as my friend.
” She fiddles with her name tag, looking anywhere but at me.
I’d be elated that she called me hot if she hadn’t simultaneously cemented my status in the friend zone.
To her, I’ll always be Briar’s older brother and the guy she hangs out with when she wants to confide in someone.
To hide my disappointment at her inadvertent rejection, I resort to my usual tactic—humor.
“Only half the women in town, huh? Bummer. I was hoping I’d have a full fan club by now.”
Birdie snorts. “Heaven forbid. Your ego does not need that kind of encouragement.”
“Easy, there,” I warn with a chuckle. “I brought you something, but I might have to reconsider if you keep sassing me.”
Her eyes brighten, and she lifts on her toes to get a peek inside my cart. “What is it?”
She is almost always doing things for others, but when she’s on the receiving end, the pure joy she radiates is priceless.
I hold out the paper bag I had in the fold-down seat of the cart. “I swung by the Prickly Pear on the way here and figured you probably hadn’t eaten yet, so I grabbed your favorite.”
Most places in town aren’t vegetarian, but luckily, the diner has a mushroom burger she loves, so I usually bring her one of those and an order of sweet potato fries whenever I stop by.
Birdie gives me a soft smile. “I appreciate it, but what have I told you about bringing me lunch?”
“That I don’t have to do it?”
She gives an exaggerated shrug. “Yet here we are.”
“I think what you mean is ‘thanks for the burger, Walker. You’re my hero.’”
Her face softens as she takes the bag. “It was really kind. Thank you. I accidentally skipped breakfast this morning, so I’m starving.”
I narrow my eyes. “How do you accidentally skip breakfast?”
“The geese staged a full-on revolt because the ducks were hogging the breadcrumbs again, so I had to step in before things got ugly,” she explains, sliding the bag of food behind the counter.
“Patrick, one of the male ducks, likes to chase me around the yard when he’s in a mood, and I was not interested in dealing with one of his tantrums this morning.
Then Nugget was upset because I forgot her favorite mixed berries and mealworms treat, and by the time I was finished, I was already running late. ”
“I brought something else that might cheer you up.”
I grab her tote from the cart that she left at the sheriff’s office yesterday.
She must have been in such a rush that she forgot it.
By the time I noticed it was still there, Mason had cornered me about the missing video footage, and when I finally stepped outside after he stormed off, Birdie was already gone.
“My bag,” she exclaims, hugging it to her chest. “I was down to my last ten dollars in cash, and my favorite bandana is in there. Thanks so much for bringing it.”
“Anytime.”
When I pull up to the ranch house, Heath is leaning against one of the porch pillars with his thumbs in his pockets, waiting for me.
Technically, we live with our parents, though each of us has a loft apartment on opposite sides of the main house.
Briar lives with her fiancé, Jensen and their son, Caleb, in the cottage on the other side of the ranch.
They’re in the process of building a home on the property, but it’s taking longer than anticipated.
Even though our places have kitchens, Ma still expects Heath and me at dinner a couple of nights a week, and when she’s off work on weekends, she goes all out for breakfast. It’s the best of both worlds, though sometimes I wish my comings and goings didn’t require a full debrief.
I hop out of the pickup and circle to the tailgate, lifting it to reveal the bed packed with supplies.
“What the hell is all this?” Heath grumbles as he trudges down the porch steps.
“I stopped by Prairie Pines while I was in town,” I say, deliberately keeping my answer vague.
He arches a brow. “Don’t you think we have enough chicken feed to last a lifetime?”
Fair point, considering I had to build a third shed last month to store the overflow.
I shoot him a sheepish look. “With the number of hens we’ve got, it’s better to be overprepared, don’t you think?
You never know when an apocalypse might hit.
Plus, the feed store could shut down for two weeks again.
” That happened last year after an electrical storm, and I ended up driving two hours one way just to grab enough feed to get us through until they reopened.
Heath drags a hand over his mustache as he scans the bags stacked in the back of my truck. “Right. So scratch grain and mealworms are part of this emergency stash too?”
“Whatever makes the ladies content,” I say with a grin. “Happy hens mean more eggs. Simple as that.”
“If you’re so set on preparing for an apocalypse, why not make one big order and have it sent here? I went through all the trouble, and you haven’t taken advantage of it once. Unless, of course, you’re not actually going there for supplies.” Heath fixes me with one of his I’m on to you stares.
I scratch my neck, trying to act casual. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
He crosses his arms, letting out a low hum. “See, I think all these trips are just convenient excuses to see a certain blue-eyed blonde.”
“Who? Birdie? That’s ridiculous.” I scoff. “Why would I go out of my way to see Briar’s friend?”
I’d rather that word didn’t get back to Briar about my drop-ins, honestly. She’d get the wrong idea and tell me to back off. She’s fully aware of my past and would probably worry I’d hurt Birdie if we ever got together.
“Birdie is your friend too,” Heath reminds me. “Hell, I’d bet money you spend more time with her than Briar has lately.”
Damn him for being so observant.
Although I shouldn’t expect anything less.
Nothing gets past Heath—he’s perceptive to a fault.
Maybe he wouldn’t be so interested in my personal life if he had one of his own.
As it stands, his sole focus is the ranch and turning it into one of the most successful cattle operations in the country.
Since taking over from Dad, he’s thrown himself into it completely, leaving no room for anything else.
“You’re right. Birdie and I are friends, nothing more,” I admit.
“My mistake. I forgot you don’t do relationships. What did you use to say? No commitments, and no strings?” Heath says, lifting two bags from the truck bed and hoisting them over his shoulder. “Guess that means I can give my buddy the green light to ask her out.”
Wait. What the hell did he just say?
Heath heads down the path toward the fenced-in coops, leaving me reeling from the bomb he just dropped. I grab a few bags and jog after him, determined to get answers.
“Hold up. What buddy?” I snap.
He isn’t known for having a wide circle of friends. Outside of me, he only hangs out with a couple of guys he occasionally grabs beers with and a few other ranchers he networks with, but that’s the extent of his social life.
“His name is Dylan. He moved to town with his brother. They’re taking over Mr. McAlister’s family practice,” Heath calls over his shoulder. “He saw Birdie at the bar last weekend and asked if she was single.”
Even if Birdie weren’t off-limits and wanted more from me, I wouldn’t stand a chance against a guy who saves lives.
He probably rescues kittens and volunteers at the homeless shelter on the weekends, for fuck’s sake.
Birdie has devoted her life to saving animals from certain death while I’m out here running a damn cattle ranch. That’s hardly a match made in heaven.
I can only hope that if this guy tries asking her out, Birdie’s nervous energy keeps him at bay, distracting from her generous heart, quick wit, and infectious energy. Otherwise, I’m totally screwed.
“What did you tell him?” I ask, unable to hide my curiosity.
“You said you weren’t interested in Birdie, so why does it matter?” Heath smirks, adjusting the bags on his shoulder as he opens the door to the nearest storage shed.
I huff in frustration and follow him inside. “That doesn’t mean I’m okay with her dating some stranger. What if he’s an asshole? She deserves someone who treats her right.”
Heath tosses his feed onto an empty shelf before turning back to me. “Or what if he’s the real deal? Would you be happy for Birdie then?”
He walks out before I can respond, and a sense of dread settles inside my chest.
At this rate, there’s a good chance she’ll end up with someone else before I get the chance to make her mine.