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Crossing his arms, he stared down at her with a frown but kept his tone light as he inquired, “Allie, what brings you out here today?”
“You,” she returned. He found her usual straightforwardness refreshing after dealing with Gina’s back stabbing ploys for so long. Allie waved her ring adorned fingers toward the pie still in a white box. “A thank-you for getting my car back so fast. I didn’t expect you to take care of the paint, let alone go the extra mile to have it cleaned and returned on a Sunday. Thank you. My car means a lot to me.”
Brett wished he could say her appreciation wasn’t genuine, but he couldn’t. Dropping his arms, he leaned over the table and peered inside the box through the clear lid. “I suppose Ina mentioned blueberry crumble is my favorite.”
Allie cocked her head, her lips quirking. “She might have, but all I told her was it’s for a friend.”
Ina knew everything, and he didn’t doubt she had somehow figured out Allie’s token was for him. He’d started to thank her and send her on her way when Slade brought over utensils and paper plates.
“Here.” He set them on the table and told Brett, “Allie promised me some.” Slade walked away without another word, but Brett was used to his short, to-the-point comments.
Without the lack of utensils as an excuse to save the pie for later, he sighed and sat down across from Allie. “Tell you what. I’ll have a piece with you before you leave if you promise to listen to me when I tell you I’m not interested in starting up anything with anyone right now.”
“From the little I saw, you were more than starting something the other night,” she teased.
Brett cut the pie and put a piece on a plate, refusing to let her get under his skin. “That was none of your business.” Leaving it at that, he started eating, savoring the sweet blueberries and flaky crust.
Allie let him have a few moments of silence before she asked, “Why not?”
He nudged his Stetson up and glared at her, ignoring the temptation to lick the blueberry smudge from the corner of her mouth. “Why not what?”
Her tongue darted out and swiped the fruit stain, leaving Brett both disappointed and relieved. “A relationship...not that that is what I want, either.”
Figuring her out was like trying to make sense of a two-year-old’s garbled speech. “I’m in the middle of a messy divorce, for one thing. What is it you want from me, then?”
Her gaze turned sly, her smile wicked when she answered, “To get you naked for a few hours. After that, maybe try out one of those contraptions on the second floor of Casey’s. Nothing you haven’t done with others.”
Every muscle in Brett’s body tightened as he imagined Allie strung up on a chain or bent over a bench, her grin taunting him to do his worst. His little head liked the idea, so it was a good thing his big head still made the decisions.
Brett sighed, seeing no way around trampling on her feelings. “Look, Allie, you’re not only not my type, you’re too...”
She held up a hand, her eyes snapping as she said, “If you tell me I’m too young for you, I’ll give Slade the rest of the pie. No, I’m not your wife – thank God – but I’m also not some immature bimbo, and there are other fish in the sea, so to speak.” She scooped up the last bite then stood. “I plan to return to Casey’s, as there were a few men I wouldn’t mind getting to know better, but don’t worry, Mr. Kincaid, I won’t bother you again. Have a nice day.”
With regret, Brett watched her stalk back to her car, trying and failing not to make note of her twitching ass. Hearing Allie mention other guys hit him with a punch to his solar plexus, the sharp cramp shocking him.
“A fluke, that’s all,” he muttered, going for more pie even though he and his brothers would be leaving soon for Sunday dinner with their mother. “I just won’t tell her,” he mumbled, scooping another piece onto his plate.
He didn’t hear Slade return until he said behind him, “Won’t tell who what?” before coming around to sit across from Brett and help himself to the pie.
“Mom, that we ate dessert before coming.” They strove never to disappoint their mother; their father, Casey, had done enough of that during their marriage.
“I won’t if you won’t. At least you didn’t send Allie running away in tears.” Slade took a bite and talked while chewing. “Did she have any idea who graffitied her car, or why?”
“No, and it was more a threat than graffiti. ‘Stay away’ was painted on her windshield, making it impossible to drive it, and with paint that didn’t come off easily.”
Slade’s gray eyes turned stormy. “Stay away? From the club, or you?”
“And that’s the question, isn’t it?”
For the life of him, Brett couldn’t figure out why someone would warn her away from either Casey’s or himself. There was nothing between him and Allie, and even if there was, no one would care, not even Gina unless she thought he was getting serious. She of all people knew he wasn’t interested in another relationship.
“A puzzle to be solved later, if at all, since it could have been a random prank. Not good for the club’s business but not that harmful, either. “Reed’s meeting us at Mom’s. I can be ready in about thirty minutes.” Slade shoveled in his last bite and stood.
Brett nodded, closing the lid on the remaining pie. “That works. I’ll help stable the horses.”
They gave most of the hands Sundays off, but the livestock still required tending, and they bedded the horses down every night for their safety against predators. Brett wondered if Allie rode then asked himself what difference that made. An evening with his family would give him something else to think about – at least, he hoped so.
