Tate’s face transforms instantly, and I know he’s mad. He takes a step toward Kameron, and Kameron does the smart thing by walking away. But not before he hollers over his shoulder, “Tara’s ready for you.”
When I thought Tate was going to hurt Kameron, I moved closer to him. Now, I’m standing toe to toe with him, and my hand is on his chest. I curl my fingers, clutching the soft material of his shirt. “It’s fine,” I tell him as his heart is pounding under the palm of my hand.
He shakes his head. “He shouldn’t talk to you that way.” He’s still watching Kameron and then looks down at me. “No one should talk to you that way.”
His look is intense, and there’s a pull in my lower abdomen.
I pat his chest. “You’re right, he shouldn’t.” I could tell him that I really shouldn’t be eating cake anyway, but I don’t want to. Right now, I want to enjoy being this close to him. I take a deep breath, smelling his manly scent. It’s not cologne, it sort of smells like a cross between motor oil and a scent that seems to be all Tate. I’ve never smelled anything like it before.
Reluctantly, I remove my hand. “I have to go. Tara’s ready for me. Are you going to stick around?”
He doesn’t want to... or maybe he does. I can see the indecision on his face, and I’m holding my breath again waiting for his answer. What if he leaves? Then I’ll track him down through Violet. I’ll have to, because I’ve never felt a connection this strong to anyone before, and I don’t want to just let it slip through my fingers.
“I should go back to work, but yeah, I’ll stick around for a while.”
I blink up at him, trying to hide the happiness I’m feeling. “I don’t want you to get in trouble or anything. I understand if you have to go.”Ask me for my number. Please, ask me for my number.
He takes a deep breath, and I wonder if he feels it too. I know he’s attracted to me; I have no doubt about that. But something’s holding him back. Is it a girlfriend? A wife? I hope not, because I couldn’t imagine just letting him go.
His voice is gruff, and he pushes a hair that came loose from my ponytail off my face. I almost press the side of my face into his hand until he looks at it and drops it to his side. His face drops a little, making me wonder what he’s thinking. “Yeah, I’ll stick around.”
I bounce on my feet a little, and I hear Tara hollering for me. This isn’t like me to be holding up production like this, but I had to get some confirmation that he was going to be around. I just had to.
I reach my arms around his waist and squeeze really quick before letting him go. “I’ll be back.”
I walk away then, to the airconditioned enclosed tent a few yards away. Before I duck in, I look back, and Tate is standing right where I left him. He’s still watching me with that intense look on his face, and I smile and wave before walking inside.
“I’m sorry I’m late.”
“Girl, I don’t blame you. I wouldn’t worry about a schedule either if I had a boyfriend that looked like that.”
I should correct her, tell her that I just met Tate, but I don’t. Because even though I just met him, I can’t help thinking and wondering what it would be like if he was mine.
Chapter2
Tate
Fuck!
I scrub my hand down my face. I knew my sister was up to something, and I was right. She likes to matchmake, and I should have known better than to fall for it. She’s pregnant and due any day. When I found out she had to bring food down to the town square, I offered to help her out. I should have known all along she was up to something.
But I can’t be mad about it. Not after meeting Lakelyn. We probably only said a handful of words to each other, but it was enough to know that I want to talk to her more. Heck, I want to do more than talk to her.
People have gathered around the table of food, so I walk off to the side where some of the other locals are milling around. A few say hi, and I nod at them. They don’t get mad or upset at my lack of conversation. I’m sort of known in Whiskey Run for keeping to myself.
I stand with my arms crossed on my chest and my eyes on the tent that Lakelyn walked into. She has to be the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen. No makeup, cutoff jean shorts and hair haphazardly in a knot on the top of her head. She looked like she’s down to earth, and I’ve already decided I’m going to get her number.
“You’re probably the last person I would have guessed to be here.”
I don’t even have to look to recognize Old Man Jacobs’ voice. He’s the town busybody, usually hanging out on the bench in front of the barbershop. It’s a joke in town that he hangs out there because it’s obvious by his long strands that he never goes in and gets a haircut.
“Yeah, I know. But Violet asked me to bring some food down, so I thought I’d stick around and see what’s going on.” There’s no way I’m going to tell him I met a girl; it would be all over town before I made it back to my shop.
“Violet’s due any day now, isn’t she?”
“Yep, any day.”
“Are you excited about being an uncle?” he asks.