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“I don’t—”
“Goodbye.” Blaine pulled the phone away from his ear so he couldn’t hear what else Hayes might say. He jabbed at the screen to get the call to end, and he started swiping. “You should block him, Tam.”
“Can I have my phone back, please?”
Blaine looked up, and their eyes met. She held out her hand, and Blaine handed over her device.
“You’re right,” she said. “I should block him.” She tapped and swiped, an adorable pucker appearing between her eyes. She stepped to his side and tilted the phone toward him. “Can you help me figure out how to do it?” She looked up at him, and he took a deep breath, getting a lot of horse and leather from her, but also just a hint of strawberry.
The scent came from her shampoo; he knew, because he’d been in her bathroom and seen the bottles.
A tender moment passed between them, and Blaine focused on the phone. He wanted to kiss her, but he also wanted this relationship to progress normally. He didn’t drive to a woman’s house and kiss her before they’d even gone out. He wouldn’t normally kiss a woman in a hospital bed either.
He wanted to take Tam to dinner and go horseback riding with her. He wanted to hold her hand as they strolled down the street on a summer evening, laughing and talking as they got to know one another. He wanted to start falling in love with her, as he knew what a profound and special experience that was.
Then—and only then—would he kiss her.
“Yeah,” he said, his voice grinding in his throat. “It’s just right there. Tap on his name.”
She did, and he guided her through the rest of the steps to block Hayes’s number.
“So now if he calls or texts, I just won’t get it?” She looked up at him again, such innocence in her eyes.
“That’s right,” Blaine said. He put his hand on the small of her back. “Finish eating, Tam.” They moved back across the shed to his desk, and Tam sat down. He crouched next to her and asked, “Will you go to dinner with me tonight?”
A smile stamped itself on her face. “I’d like that.”
“Before the dealership?” he asked. “Or after?”
“Have you ever bought a truck, Blaine? It takes hours.”
“Maybe we can just look tonight.” He ran his fingertips up and down her forearm, his eyes trained on them instead of her beautiful face.
“You’ll have to drive me back and forth again,” she said.
“I’m okay with that,” he said.
“Okay,” she said. “Let’s look for trucks—just look. Then we can go to dinner.”
Blaine smiled, thinking this was a good first step down a path he was very uncertain about.
Tam put her hand under his chin and lifted his face to hers. “Hey,” she said softly. “It’s just me.”
“Yeah,” Blaine said, standing and taking his place behind the desk again. “I know.” He gave her a smile, but that was exactly the problem. It was her, and he was terrified of the outcome of this new, official relationship.
* * *
Blaine whistledas he parked in Tam’s driveway and got out of his truck. He’d picked up his whistling skill from his grandfather, a man who’d taught Blaine a lot of tricks around the ranch.
“Love you, Granddaddy,” he said, looking up into the cloudless sky. He liked to think of his granddaddy sipping lemonade and whistling like the birds up in heaven. “Would be nice if it wasn’t so humid though.” He cocked an eyebrow at the sky, as if the Lord cared that it was downright oppressive in Kentucky tonight.
He went up Tam’s front steps, his heartbeat knocking through his body now. He knocked loudly and tucked his hands in his pockets, glad he’d kept one eye on Spur the last couple of weeks. He now knew that women liked a man in a clean pair of boots—ones that had never seen work on the ranch. A cowboy hat he hadn’t been sweating in all day. And a little cologne Blaine had swiped from Spur’s dresser—aptly named after him.
Tam opened the door, and Blaine opened his mouth to say hi. Everything froze at the glorious sight of her standing there in that peaches-and-cream-colored dress. He scanned her down to her genuine leather boots—probably made from the finest leather she could find. They were dark brown and made her look country chic.
She’d put a curl in her hair and something red on her lips, and Blaine could barely breathe.
“What do you think?” she asked, grabbing onto a fistful of the fabric in her skirt.
