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She held back a sigh, struggling not to recite a litany of reasons why they were not good together. “I’m seeing someone else.”
His expression turned dark. “It’s that asshole, Tyson Donovan. You were with him at the barn dance.”
She clenched her teeth before speaking. “He’s a good guy.” She relaxed her jaw, frustrated with herself for feeling like she had to defend Tyson. “I’ve got to go, Clint.”
He scowled. “Haylee—”
“I’ve got to go.” She cut him off and turned her back on him. She kept her pace normal even though she wanted to rush away from him.
She cast a look over her shoulder to make sure he wasn’t following her. Thankfully, he was staring toward the Arizona Savings Bank instead, an angry look on his ordinarily attractive features. The expression made him look ugly, and she wondered what she’d ever seen in him.
She faced forward, relieved his attention wasn’t on her anymore. When she reached Ricardo’s, she felt calmer and back to her usual good spirits.
A tall form ahead caught her attention, and she smiled and called, “Tyson.”
He rotated away from the window he’d been looking in, and his lips curved into a sexy grin. He started toward her, and they met in front of Ricardo’s.
“Fancy meeting you here, hon.” He rested his palm on her upper arm. “How do you feel about public displays of affection?”
Haylee laughed. “A kiss wouldn’t hurt a thing.”
“I’m glad to hear it.” Tyson stepped in and cupped the back of her head before giving her a sweet kiss that sent tingles throughout her body. He raised his head, his gaze lingering on her, and she couldn’t take her eyes from his. “Have you had lunch?”
She managed to pull herself together and tipped her head in the direction of the small Mexican restaurant. “I’m hungry for tacos.”
“That makes two of us.” He settled his fingertips at the small of her back, heat traveling from his fingers and through her shirt as they walked to Ricardo’s. Tyson held the door open for her, and they moved to the counter.
Ricardo peered out of the back room. “Ah, two of my favorite people.”
“I’m ready for some of the best food in the southwest.” Haylee leaned against the counter.
The older man came toward them. He was short, about the same as her five-five, with a thick mustache and stout figure. “You have come to the right place, Señorita Haylee.” He turned his attention to Tyson. “Buenas días, Señor Tyson.”
Tyson gave the man a nod. “Good to see you, Ricardo.”
The owner looked at Haylee. “Your usual two tacos? Shredded beef?”
She smiled. “Yes, and a medium drink.”
The man addressed her companion. “And you?”
“The same,” Tyson said. “But make it three and a large drink.”
Ricardo set two empty paper cups on the counter for them to fill at the soda dispenser.
Haylee pulled her wallet from her purse, but Tyson raised his hand. “I’m paying.”
Her body tensed. “I can pay my share.”
“I know you can.” Tyson spoke quietly and firmly. “But I was raised right by my mama.” He held her gaze. “Please.”
Haylee forced herself to relax. She’d been raised in a family of cowboys who were just as stubborn about the man always paying, and she knew she’d be wasting her breath. So instead of arguing, she said, “Thank you, Tyson.”
“It’s my pleasure.” He paid, then nodded toward the small metal tables with plastic chairs after Ricardo said he’d bring out the food when it was ready.
The door opened, bringing with it a cool October breeze, and the man turned his attention to the next customers.
After filling their cups with ice and drinks, Haylee sat, and Tyson seated himself across the table from her. She cocked her head. “What brings you into town?”
