“Last I checked...” His head slanted in obvious denial.
An aggravated sound left me as I sank back into my seat, forcing a laugh from him that filled the truck and made the following silence even more apparent.
Like before, the silence was uncomfortable and charged as long minutes and miles passed before Gray hesitantly asked, “Do you really hate this?”
“Thetrips?” I clarified. At his answering hum, I admitted, “No, Gray, I don’t hate the actual trips. But this isn’t about that. It’s that I shouldn’t go, because then you hardly see your family, and these events revolve around them. It’s also about how much I hate that it’s a peach thing because I hate that you call mePrincess Peach.”
“These eventsaremy family,” he agreed, his stare firmly on the road. When he continued, his voice was soft. “Which is why I’ve always wanted you there.”
My head snapped to the side, my eyes wide with surprise as that traitorous fluttering started in my stomach all over again. My lips parted, but I had no idea what I would’ve said, if I could’ve spoken at all.
Denied what he was saying? Asked for clarification before I could stupidly start obsessing over and overanalyzing it myself? Remind him I’d only seen a select few of his absurdly attractive family during all the times he’d supposedly “wanted me there”becauseof them?
Instead, I just studied him as doubt and longing fought for dominance inside me before the words, “And if I hated the trips?” tumbled from me.
Gray quickly glanced my way, taking in my face for longer than was probably safe, before focusing on the road.
Just when I thought he wouldn’t respond, he mumbled, “I’d still want you there.”
“Why?”
A stilted breath left him as he rested one of his elbows against the door and dragged a hand through his hair. “You say that like it’s hard to believe.”
“It is,” I said without hesitation as unwelcome memories from too many of these trips burst through my thoughts like some disturbing kaleidoscope.
Whether it was for the kind of events like we were headed to now, or just a random day trip with me, Gray had never taken anyone home, but he’d taken numbers. Worse than that, though, were the women who’d practically turned feral around him, like he was a prize to be won, if they hadn’t won it already.
All while I’d been right by his side.
“Not that most of them seem to mind, but I doubt I help your chances of picking up the women you hit on, so why would you willingly want me anywhere with you?”
His jaw shifted irritably, but when he finally spoke minutes later, his voice was calm and controlled. “The last thing I have any interest in is picking up other women.” The tightening of his hand on the steering wheel was the only slip in his otherwise composed mask.
I noted that slip and his claim that every part of me wanted to believe...
I just didn’t know how to let myself.
Before I could spiral over another statement that thrilled and confused me, I forced my stare out the overcast window,focusing on nothing but the fields of corn and tall grass we passed until we were pulling off the freeway.
Despite how much I hated that Gray tricked me into these trips multiple times each year, I loved this town that truly gave Huntley a run for its money.
While Huntley was probably what people envisioned when they thought of small-town Texas—stunning, quaint, and bustling with incredibly kind people who seemed to know everyone—the town of Amber looked like it’d been taken from a movie set with how picturesque and idyllic it was.
They only had one traffic light, and whenever we stopped in on non-festival weekends, every single person stared at me and quietly gossiped like I was an anomaly in their town. If anyone had described it to me, I would’ve been sure I’d be uncomfortable with that much attention on me, but I adored it.
Between this place and Huntley, I was starting to think I was more of a small-town girl than I’d ever considered.
Not that I lovedthis.
I drew in a steadying breath as Gray carefully wove through the insane amount of people heading toward downtown Amber for their weekend-long spring festival—thePeach Blossom Fest.
One of two festivals the town held, both of which brought in so many people and so much money for the town. The first was always held in early spring, right around the time the trees bloomed in the massive peach orchard that took up about eighty percent of Amber.
An orchard that was owned and run by two of Gray’s cousins.
“These eventsaremy family. Which is why I’ve always wanted you there.”
I forced away Gray’s earlier words as we inched our way through the town because of the crowd, making my skin crawl as I fought back the restlessness that always accompanied large groups of people.
