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“I was not! I was with Marshall!”
“And you wouldn’t even look over at us. I kept trying to make goofy faces at you when she wasn’t watching, and you never even saw. You were as bad as Marshall, pretending not to notice Kelli Mason. Dude, how come you didn’t say something?”
I let out a weary sigh. “What good would that have done?”
“Well, for starters, I’d have never gone out with her if I knew you were sweet on her.”
“You’d already asked her out by then.”
“So? I’d have canceled it or even pushed you into it somehow. You don’t go out with your brother’s woman. That’s one of the rules.”
I shook my head. “She’s not mine. Never has been and never will be.”
“You don’t know that.”
“I’m afraid I do.” My hands tightened around the rolled-up magazine like I was trying to choke it. “I waited too long, and now she’s dating Austen Conrad.”
Luke even turned pale at that. He sat back and gave a low whistle. “Not good.” He rubbed his jaw. “Not good at all. Half the women in town are after him.”
“I know.”
“Isn’t he your buddy, though?”
“Yeah, and I basically helped him get her.”
Luke stared, his jaw slack. “Dude. That’s messed up.”
“Tell me about it.”
Jess
Dad and I didn’t do much for Christmas. It felt weird to put on our traditional celebration without Mom, and anyway, how much food could two people really eat? So, we spent the morning watching movies in our pajamas, nibbling on crackers and cheese and salami for lunch while the ham baked. Dakota pestered me until I threw his ball in the house, and when our last movie ended, I curled up with that delightful cowboy poetry journal again. It was a quiet, peaceful, no-fuss kind of Christmas, and it was perfect.
I was going out to the garage refrigerator to get the potatoes when I happened to glance at the hotrod. I had been thinking it would be fun to tinker with it that afternoon, but something different caught my eye. It wasn’t up on the jack anymore. Odd. The rear end had been disassembled for months over what should have been a quick job, and Dad just hadn’t been in the mood to finish it.
“Hey,” I said when I got back inside, “when did you finish the shocks?”
Dad’s expression changed from blank confusion to warm pride. “A week or so ago. Looks good, doesn’t it?”
“Yeah, but I thought you wanted some help with that. I was ready whenever you were.”
“Oh, no, it was simple. I had a friend stop by, and we shot the breeze and got it done.”
“Oh.” I dumped the potatoes in the sink to rinse them. “Which friend?”
His mouth twitched, and for a second, I wasn’t sure he was going to answer. “One of the Walkers.”
“Blake? He’s such a good guy.”
Dad’s cheek flickered, and he looked away. “They’re all good guys. Salt of the earth, always willing to lend a hand. Honest and friendly and just decent folks.”
I laughed. “You’re starting to sound like a matchmaker. I think Blake might be spoken for.”
“I wasn’t just talking about Blake. And what do you mean, he’s spoken for?”
“Oh, it’s just that every time I drive by the bank lately, he’s sitting in his truck having coffee with Meryl Justice.”
Dad chuckled. “Better keep that to yourself. I think everyone in town knows, except for his boys.”
