I park my truck in the parking lot. Ever since Knox settled down with Blakely, I knew it was time for me to get my own shit together. While Knox was on the bull riding circuit, the clown of the family really was being a clown in every rodeo in town and event I could get into. Meanwhile socking away every extra dollar I had, preparing to branch off when it was my time. When our parents decided to go ahead and give me the same amount of acreage they did my brother, I was smart and started planning. Which is why I’ve been in the hardware store more than ever. With all that money I saved, it gave me the opportunity to start building a home on that land, fence the area surrounding it, and work on the barn.
But today, I’m here at the hardware store to finally go after the girl who has me fisting my cock, moaning out loud. What I really want is to know her name. I walk inside, my eyes already surveying the store trying to find the nameless beauty. I’m in my standard uniform of a T-shirt, worn in jeans, stained all to hell, boots that have seen better days, and a hat. My eyes lock on her in less than thirty seconds. She’s behind the register ringing up Mrs. Ingle, which reminds me that I should probably go and visit her soon. Her husband passed away earlier this year. Now that she’s on her own, I’m sure there are a few things she could use help with.
“Thank you, Dove. Tell your parents I said hello, and if they need anything to let me know. I’ve been praying for your momma.” I watch as Mrs. Ingle squeezes her hand. I roll the name around in my head, wondering if that’s truly her name or something like a nickname.
“Thank you. We’re okay, but you let us know if we can do anything for you too. I’m sure Mom would love to send Daddy over there to get him out of her hair,” Dove jokes.
“I’ll be sure to think of some chores to help her out. I remember those days vividly. Us women need a break every now and then from the menfolk.” Mrs. Ingle winks and then heads towards me.
“Hello, Mrs. Ingle.” I hold the door open for her.
“Hello, Trace, how’s that house you’re building coming along?” she asks. News travels fast in a small town, which is probably why my childhood friend, Wolf, left and his mom followed suit. He lives in Galveston now, and there are a whole lot more people in that town, hardly anyone is up in your business unless they want to be.
“It’s going, just got the foundation poured.” I don’t add that I’ll help her out, not after what Dove told her.
“I bet it’s going to be beautiful. Make sure you invite me over when it’s all said and done.” She smiles softly. Mrs. Ingle may be getting older in age, but that doesn’t mean she’s not as fit as a fiddle.
“I’ll be sure to do that. Have a good day.” She walks by, waving behind with a “You too.” Now it’s time to go after the woman who’s captured my attention.
Two
Dove
Shit on a brick, Trace is here today, and he’s staring right at me. It’s taking everything I have not to turn away or tuck my hair behind my ear. Nervous habits are so hard to break. Even when Mrs. Ingle said my name, it still didn’t ring a bell with him, which goes to show you he was just that nice in high school, but other than that, I was a nobody to him.
Trace McCray is a tall drink of water on a hot summer day. The man can fill out a shirt with those broad shoulders, muscular arms, solid chest, and tapered waist. Add in his firm legs, and yep, he’s the whole freaking enchilada. All of a sudden, he’s licking his lips and looking at me.
“Hi there, how can I help you?” I put on a chipper voice, trying to ignore the way my body is shaking on the inside.
“Oh, sugar, that’s a loaded question.” He’s still walking towards where I’m sitting behind the cash register. I take that back. Trace isn’t doing the seamlessly harmless thing such as walking. Nope, he’s stalking his prey. I don’t respond to his answer. Instead, a small smile sneaks out.
“I see I have your attention now. Maybe today you’ll give me more than a few words.” I shrug my shoulders in response, then say, “I’m not so sure about that.”
“It’s a good thing I’m a gambling man and I’m betting on me. What’s it going to take to get you to go out on a date with me?” I about fall off the stool I’m perched on. The Trace McCray asking me out. I turn my head from side to side looking to see if he could be talking to anyone else.