“Aw, shucks. I was hoping to show you how well I could shoot the ducks!”
Laughing, I winked at him. “I’m sure you’re a great shot.”
I wasn’t sure where to look. My eyes bounced from son to father. Brock just stood there, and that stone-cold face he’d worn the first time I’d met him was back. Maybe the kiss had been a fluke. A knee-jerk reaction he’d had in the heat of the moment. He probably kissed women all the time when he was traveling from town to town. Hell, I was sure he did more than that.
The thought of Brock sleeping around with strange women made my chest ache, which, in some way, surprised me. I’d known the man only two days, and I was already jealous of women he might or might not have slept with.
Good grief. Get a grip, Lincoln.
Brock cleared his throat, as if he was somehow pulling himself from a dark place. A smile grew over his face before he finally spoke. “Nah, it would be, um . . . fun to have you join us.”
I could feel Kaylee’s eyes boring into me. One quick peek her way confirmed she was giving me that look that said if I didn’t go, I was an idiot.
Focusing back on Brock, I nibbled on the corner of my lip before asking, “Are you sure? I don’t want to intrude on your time with your son.”
Something in his gaze shifted when he made eye contact with me. His whole body relaxed, and his dimples popped out. “I’d love for you to spend the day with us, Lincoln.”
“Then I guess it’s settled,” Kaylee nearly shouted, causing me to jump. “She’ll go! Now, maybe I can actually get some work done without any interruptions.”
Blayze jumped all around like he’d just been told it was Christmas morning as Brock and I continued to stare at each other.
Finally, he broke the moment and said, “We just need to grab some drinks for the cooler and some sunscreen. Can you join us now, or should we come pick you up at your place?”
The pained expression on his face when he mentioned picking me up wasn’t hard to miss. There really were painful memories at that house for Brock. I wondered if the rumor about his wife was true. I tried to push away the instant sadness I felt.
“I’m fine if y’all want to grab your stuff and head over there. I’m dressed okay?”
Brock glanced down my body . . . slowly. The light-fabric dress was finished off with my favorite cowboy boots.
“You look beautiful—I mean, you’re dressed perfectly. Do you have a sweater? It could turn cold.”
I felt my cheeks heat.
Kaylee gave me a push, and I stumbled forward. “Yes, she has one in the car. I’ll run and get it for her.” She held out her hand. “Keys, please.”
Before I knew what was happening, my best friend was racing out of the grocery store, telling the clerk she’d be right back to check out.
“Miss Lincoln, we’re going to have fun today!”
I smiled at Blayze, and before I could say anything, Kaylee was there, panting like she’d just run a marathon. She shoved my sweater at me.
“Okay, well, have fun, y’all!” she crooned as she wiggled her fingers at us.
Brock placed his hand on my lower back, and I nearly tripped from the contact. Swallowing hard, I let him guide me around the store. It was then I noticed that nearly everyone was staring at us now. I wanted to tell myself it was because Blayze was jabbering on and on about how he was going to show me everything and that I had to ride every single ride with him. But I knew I was kidding myself. It was those four words.
The kiss. Small town.
Brock wore a relaxed smile, but something around his eyes said he was feeling uncomfortable as well. I wasn’t sure what was making him feel that way, but I had every idea it was because of the unwanted attention he was getting from the locals who were openly gawking at us.
After getting drinks and sunscreen, we stood in line. One of the women from earlier walked up to Brock and plastered on a huge smile while pushing her chest out just a little too much.
“Hi, Brock. You gonna be at the dance tonight?” she asked, not once looking in my direction.
Turning, I focused on the cashier, willing her to hurry. Unfortunately, she was trying to listen to the conversation Brock and the woman were having, so she was moving at a snail’s pace, ringing up the items.
“Hi, Lucy Mae.” Taking out his wallet, Brock pulled out a twenty and handed it to the cashier while I placed the waters and Gatorades into a plastic bag. Lord knows, the cashier wasn’t going to miss anything by doing her job.