Page 39 of Worth the Trip

“Can’t promise that.”

“That doesn’t sound very gentlemanly.”

His amusement eased without disappearing. “A gentleman can notice a beautiful woman and still respect her boundaries. Those things ain’t enemies.”

That one caught me differently.

My fingers loosened away from the pendant.

“You rehearse these answers?”

“Nah. Rehearsed game falls apart the minute somebody asks a follow-up question.”

“So this is game?”

He looked at me for a second, and the playfulness in his face settled into something more direct.

“This is me talking to a woman I’m interested in talking to. You being beautiful ain’t exactly hurting my attention span.”

The compliment reached me before I could prepare for it.

Heat spread beneath my skin.

His eyes registered the reaction, but he didn’t tease me about it. Instead, he bent, picked up my empty cup, and dropped it into a nearby trash bin.

“Come on, Hershey. Let’s find your car before something else becomes a casualty.”

“You are way too comfortable with that nickname.”

“I’ve had it almost five minutes.”

“That isn’t how ownership works.”

“Good thing I ain’t claiming ownership. I’m claiming nickname rights until further notice.”

“You can’t just assign yourself rights.”

“Appeals process open Monday through Friday.”

I laughed. “You’re ridiculous.”

“I’ve been accused.”

We headed back toward the festival together.

His stride shortened without announcement to match mine. When a family crossed in front of us, his free hand hovered near the small of my back but never touched. Close enough for my body to notice. Controlled enough that I noticed that too.

“You from Willow Run?” he asked.

“No. Self Ridge. My Nana lives here.”

“Self Ridge?”

I glanced at him. “What was that tone?”

“What tone?”

“That one.”