Chapter 31
Chapter Thirty-One
Andi
In a blink of an eye, a week had passed, and Norah and I didn’t waste any time in our new venture of finding a place to rent together.
On Tuesday, before our shifts started at the Spur, we drove to look at a little house on the edge of town.
The listing had used words like quaint and cozy and promised “renter upgrades welcome,” which made looking at the place all the more exciting because it felt like we could really make it our own.
But it conveniently failed to mention the sagging porch and concerning water stains on the living room ceiling.
Norah had walked through the entire house shaking her head and, although I tried to picture us there, all I saw were endless repairs and the two of us drowning in them.
We left without even asking about rent, laughing a little at ourselves for thinking we’d found “the one” so easily.
And then there were the other parts of the week—the secret, stolen ones I’d held on to and revisited often in my mind.
Like watching Zane from the fence line as he trained one of the younger horses—completely mesmerizing me as he commanded the horse with that quiet authority that made everything he did feel effortless.
I may have also been a little caught up in the way his sweat-darkened shirt clung to the muscles of his arms and his back as they tightened and released with his every movement.
I tried to tell myself that I was just watching him work, but that was a lie.
I was watching him and completely lost in how unfairly attractive he was.
When he finally glanced my way, he grinned as I jumped back from the wooden fence like I’d been shocked.
In all honesty, him catching me thoroughly checking him out did send a shock throughout me and made my pulse jump.
But not as much as when he caught up to me sometime later in the barn and I let him kiss me until my knees forgot their job.
And somewhere between the worry of getting caught mid-make out and “just one more,” he’d asked me if I’d go with him to Tim’s barbeque—and I’d said yes.
Which led us to this moment now, with the late evening breeze slipping through the open truck windows and tugging at the loose strands of my hair as the last of the sun set the sky on fire.
The steady hum of truck tires on the asphalt and the faint twang of a country song on the radio filled the comfortable silence between us.
I really liked that about Zane—how easy it was to be with him without any sort of expectation other than just breathing the same air.
His thumb stroked lazily against my skin where our fingers were laced together over the center console, and I stole a glance at him as the glow of headlights and noise drifted from Tim’s place up ahead.
The setting sun caught on the hard line of his jaw as he lifted our joined hands, never taking his eyes off the road, and brushed his lips over my knuckles.
The simple press of his mouth there sent my heart tripping over itself, making my breath catch at how something so small felt so huge.
It wasn’t lost on me that this was a date—even if we hadn’t called it one.
The thought made my stomach flip in an equal parts terrifying and exhilarating way.
Because exactly one week ago, I’d told Zane how I wasn’t sure I was ready to be someone’s something.
But sitting here with his hand wrapped around mine and the lingering warmth of his lips against my skin, I couldn’t help wondering if I already was—at least to him. And maybe…maybe I wanted to be.
Tim’s place came into view then, and my eyes widened as I took in the obscene number of pickup trucks, jacked up Jeeps, and four-wheelers that were lined up in the grass like some kind of small-town parade.
Zane parked in line with the other trucks, cut the engine, and hopped out, shaking out his pant legs like they’d gotten twisted up in the drive before walking around to my side and opening my door.
“Thanks,” I said, feeling a little flustered suddenly because I wasn’t sure I’d ever had a guy open my door for me. Heath, for sure, never did.
Zane reached out for my hand, and I met his gaze as I slid my palm into his.
Ever the gentleman, he steadied me as my boot made contact with the running board, then the grass, and allowed me time to ensure my red sundress was properly settled around my thighs before stepping us away from the truck and closing the door.
Turns out, chivalry wasn’t dead after all.
Luke’s rig rumbled up next to Zane’s a moment later, and hand in hand, we rounded the hood of Zane’s truck to meet his younger brother.
We’d barely gotten in a quick greeting before Luke’s attention shifted across the yard, zeroing in on a pretty blonde standing with a few other women.
He adjusted his cowboy hat like he was heading into battle, and nodded toward her.
“If y’all are looking for me that’s where I’ll be for the rest of the night,” he said before strutting across the yard.
And just like that, it was only Zane and me.
Another one of those warm evening breezes grazed over my skin and tousled my hair—inconveniently sending strands across my face and straight into the lip gloss I’d put on special for this…
date. I went to unstick my hair from my lips and tuck the disobedient strands behind my ear, but Zane beat me to it.
His work-roughed fingers ghosted over my cheek, gently freeing my hair before brushing it away from my face and resting his palm against the curve of my neck.
Zane’s gaze dipped then, stopping on my mouth, and my breath stalled.
“I’d really like to find out what that tastes like,” he murmured, and my heart bucked hard against my ribs.
Partly because I already knew how much I liked kissing him—and how easily he unraveled me with just his mouth—but there was also the sheer, dizzying thrill of him wanting to do that here… now…where anyone could see us.
Did I want him to kiss me in front of everyone?
Yes…and no.
I loved the idea of being wanted so openly, but at the same time I wasn’t sure if I was ready for that kind of spotlight.
Zane must’ve noticed my hesitation, because with the faintest hint of a grin he shot me a wink and added, “Later.”
Relief and disappointment washed over me in tandem as Zane moved to my side and reached for my hand once more—guiding us through the grassy designated parking lot and toward the sound of a live band drifting from behind the house.
“So, what do you wanna do first?” he asked, looking down at me with a pleasant spark in his eyes.
“Eat,” I said, unashamed yet thankful for the distraction. “I’m so hungry I might wipe out the whole buffet table.”
He chuckled. “Not gonna lie, that would be impressive.”
I laughed at that, but as we rounded the corner of the house and the party came into full view—the string lights, the band, and “the barbeque”—I was suddenly eating my words.
The buffet table stretched out like it went on for miles—barbecue pork, smoked chicken, brisket, cornbread, corn on the cob, and just about every southern side dish you could imagine.
My jaw fell slack at the sight. Honestly, I’d seen restaurant buffets with less food, and this was somebody’s backyard. Texans really didn’t mess around.
Zane and I moved along the line slowly, piling our plates as the scent of mesquite and spice curled through the air. By the time we found an empty picnic table, the sun had dipped lower, casting long shadows over the yard. I slid onto the bench and set my plate down.
Zane placed his plate next to mine and gave my shoulder a quick squeeze. “Sweet tea?” he asked.
“Please. Extra ice.”
He nodded and walked off, leaving me with a heaping plate and the hum of conversation around us. I was just about to take a bite of my pulled pork sandwich when a voice interrupted.
“Excuse me. Is anyone sittin’ here?”
I looked up to see a tall, stunning blonde standing beside the table.
Her voice was syrupy sweet, dipped in southern charm.
Everything about her said boutique and blowout—perfectly curled hair, flawless makeup, and a white sundress that probably cost more than my entire outfit combined.
Her nails were French-tipped, and her open-toe sandals had a tall, pointy heel. At a barbecue. In the grass.
“Help yourself,” I said, gesturing across from me.
“Thank you,” she said, smiling as she gracefully sat down. “My boyfriend’s still in line. I told him I’d scout out a seat.”
She looked around the yard, then fanned herself slightly with one hand. “Whew, I don’t think I’ve ever seen Tim’s place this packed.”
I offered a polite nod, trying not to stare but still...curious. She didn’t seem like she belonged here—like she’d taken a wrong turn off the highway and ended up smack in the middle of rural Texas barbecue night. Which, to be fair, was basically my exact story, too.
She turned her attention back to me, head tilting slightly. “You from around here? I don’t recognize you.”
“I just moved here,” I said casually, slicing into my cornbread and spreading a little butter over the top.
Something about that answer made her pause. Her smile stayed, but it didn’t quite reach her eyes anymore. “Why on earth would you move to Tarnation? Heck, me and my boyfriend are only in town for the night, and I already can’t wait to get out of here.”
I gave a small shrug, trying to keep it light. And plus, I didn’t owe this woman anything.
Her brows lifted slightly, the way people do when they’re trying not to look judgmental but are definitely judging.
She let out a soft hum then and glanced around the yard.
“It has its charm, I guess. If you like heat, dust, and brooding cowboys who think a long stare counts as meaningful communication.”
That earned a real laugh from me—both amused and curious. “Wow. That feels...specific.”