He opened the door and stepped inside the farmhouse, already looking for the child. In the very next moment, a deluge of cold water hit him straight in the face.
Trey sputtered and reached up to cover his face with his hands. “What the devil?” he asked at the same time wild laughter met his ears. He cleared the water from his eyes and hair—his cowboy hat gone completely—and looked down at his soaking wet shirt. The front of his jeans looked like he’d wet himself, and water ran down his legs toward his cowboy boots.
“That’s not your uncle Hugh,” a man said, and Trey’s eyes flew to an older gentleman whose smile faded right before Trey’s eyes. Beth’s father, Clyde.
“Trey,” TJ said, his smile staying in place. He ran toward Trey, who scooped him up despite being a wet mess. “What are you doin’ here?”
“I…” He looked at Clyde, who’d found a towel somehow and was hurrying toward him too.
“Sorry,” he said. “I’m real sorry about the water. We’re expecting Beth’s brother, and I was just showin’ TJ how to set up a prank.” He smiled at the child and exchanged TJ for the towel.
They shook hands too, and Trey used the towel to mop up the water in his hair. This wasn’t a good time to chat with Beth, clearly. Beth’s family was here, and she obviously didn’t know about this little prank lesson going on in her living room.
He didn’t think she’d like the standing water on her hardwood floors, for example.
Trey turned around to find his cowboy hat. He located it sitting in a pool of water, stepped over to it, and had just picked it up when Beth said, “Trey?”
His heartbeat spiked, and he jammed the hat on his head as he straightened and turned in the same movement.
Beth wore a pale yellow tank top that flowed around her frame in a classy, sophisticated way. She made soft, loose pants look like a ballgown, and Trey promptly swept the cowboy hat off his head again.
Aware of water dripping from his ear and sliding down his face, he held his cowboy hat to his chest with one hand and wiped his forehead with the other. “I’ll do it, Beth. I’ll enter the Sweetheart Classic with you.”
Chapter Two
“The Sweetheart Classic?” Daddy asked, and Bethany Dixon flew into action. She strode forward and put both hands against Trey’s chest, as if she could really move a man muscular as him.
He did fall back though, and he turned and walked out onto the front porch, Beth right behind him. She brought the door closed behind her a little harder than she meant to, and she pressed her eyes closed as she leaned into the solidness of it.
She inhaled through her nose and realized her feet were wet. She opened her eyes and looked down. “Why is my porch wet?”
“Same reason I’m soaking wet, sweetheart,” Trey said in a very dry voice.
She looked up from the puddle where she stood to find Trey standing at the top of the steps, facing her. He really was wet from head to toe, and she could only stare at the sexy way his hair spiked up with water in it.
Everything about the man called to her, and she forgot for a moment why her pulse was pounding and why she’d ushered him outside before he could say anything else.
The door behind her opened, and Daddy said, “Sorry about the water, sweetie. I’ll get TJ to clean it up right now.”
Beth reached up and brushed her hair out of her eyes. “Thanks, Daddy.”
The door closed again, and Beth wished she could lock it from the outside. Hugh should be here soon too, and of course Trey would pick now to make his decision and come tell her about it.
She took a step forward as she tucked her hands in the pockets of her sweats. “You’ll do it?”
“Yes,” Trey said.
Beth nodded, her throat suddenly closed. She’d admitted so much to him already, and she really didn’t want to lose more of her dignity. She moved over to the railing and leaned against it, pleased when he joined her.
She didn’t look at him but gazed out over the graveled driveway and down the lane, which was bordered by pastures on both sides. “Why are you wet?”
“Your son and your father set up a prank for someone named Hugh.”
“My brother,” Beth said. “You’ll probably need to get to know all of that, so we can…” She trailed off, finally looking up at him. “You look different without your cowboy hat on.”
He automatically reached up and ran his hand through his hair. “My hat’s ruined now.”
Beth followed the trajectory of his hand with hers, and he froze the moment she touched him. He pulled in a slow breath while she brushed water off his forehead and curled her fingertips along the curve of his ear.