The man exudes confidence. I can tell that because he stands out amongst the cowboys and girls in Lonestar Junction, defying their rules and sticking to whatever he wants to do. The fact thathe bought a whole farm in a town he’d never even visited before was a bold choice.
Maybe that's why we've always been drawn to each other. We never quite fit into the environments we were forced to grow up in and were constantly searching for a place where we belonged. I found mine in making music, yet still never felt completely at home in Texas or California, and Dallas found his in the Marines yet chose to settle in Texas, a place that likely didn’t welcome him at first.
A surge of butterflies fills my stomach as I think back on the fact that he’s really here. I’m not naïve, I know that the only reason he even knows about this town is because of me. There was a reason he’d chosen to move here after separating from the Marines, and I was determined to have him admit that reason was me.
Last night, while going over everything that happened yesterday, including our encounter in the broken elevator, the way he’d allowed me to hold him yet hadn’t touched me back, his strong, manly scent and the handsome curve of his jawline, I read through all of the old letters we’d exchanged, that were still buried underneath my childhood bed at my parents’ house.
I hadn’t burned them like I’d told him, given the fact that I was in Croatia when I’d written that last letter to him, and the trip down memory lane had me laughing in tears while searching for any nugget that might elude to his potential feelings for me.
I swallow my nervousness, reminding myself again that this guy had been my friend for years before he disappeared and wasn’t technically a complete stranger. At one time, he’d known me better than even my siblings had.
“Hi Dove, Happy Thanksgiving,” one of my mom’s best friends and the wife to our small town’s mayor, Terry, gives me a squeeze. “Great turn out for the co-ops second year open. Glad to see you’re back in town for the holidays. I bet your mom is happy.”
I smile, “She is. She’s sad that she couldn’t be here tonight. Her and my dad are catching up on things back at the ranch.”
She nods, “Saw that article that reporter wrote about you in the LA Times.”
I bite my tongue, because despite the people in this town being supportive of my wishes to act normal when I’m home and mostly not talking to me about the gossip that is inevitable that follows my star, sometimes these comments still come up.
“Yeah…”
She nods, “Well if you’re looking to put those rumors to rest, I have a cousin who has a son who’s twenty-five years old and lives in San Angelo. Really nice boy. Single. High paying job working for the city.”
I force a smile, because a fake dating relationship in order to create a persona that appeases some stranger’s perspective of me goes against everything I believe in and sounds like an absolute headache. I don’t need the money, nor do I need the attention. The last thing I care about is trying to convince anyone to believe anything about me that simply isn’t true, but I know Terry means well.
“Thanks, but I don’t mind the rumors.”
Plus, if the Dallas who confided in me years ago, kept me laughing, and showed me friendship is still somewhere inside the strong, barrel-chested man who just walked into the co-op with Clay Cameron tonight, then I know I’m going to have a tough time disguising my attraction to him.
I just hope it’s reciprocated.
“Ok dear, well tell your mom I said hello.”
“Will do…” I respond, my eyes locked with Dallas,’ completely oblivious to Terry’s departure. He’s found me like a magnet and is walking towards my direction as if we’re connected by a string. I draw in a steady breath, trying to still my heart. I’ve never felt this way about anyone before and it’s terrifying and electrifying at the same time.
“Paloma,” Dallas says with one of those big smiles I loved. He bends his tall frame downward to embrace me, his arms circling my waist, and I realize this is the first time that he’s hugged me.
And I like it.
A lot.
It feels like a piece of my body has been missing for years and is returning to its rightful position nestled here in his strong arms. He smells like pine needles and warm hay and the heat radiating from his body is almost too hot. I hope that the scent of him sticks to my clothing and hair so that I’ll never lose it.
I'm in trouble.
“Hi, Dallas.”
Clay raises a brow as he takes in our greeting.
“Y’all look like you’ve known each other your whole lives. Though I guess you have, huh?” he nudges me with his shoulder then shakes Dallas' hand, mumbling something about keeping in touch, before walking over to the table of desserts.
“So…”
“So,” he smiles. “I’m eager to try this pumpkin pie you’ve been praising.” His big, thick palms rub together like a fly preparing for its meal. The action is so comical, smashing through any nerves I had moments ago, I can’t help the burst of laughter that comes out of me.
“Come on. Let me go introduce you to my family’s secret recipe.” I take his hand, enjoying the way it engulfs mine and trying not to get too excited while I guide him towards the table full of desserts that stretch around the co-op. I grab two slices and a can of whipped cream before finding a corner of the packed building where we can sit and talk more privately.
“Now the dollop of whipped is necessary to make this work. Ihope you don’t mind.”
