“Yup. You know what to do.”
I eyed him. “He would definitely know something’s up if Iflirtedwith him.”
He looked at me, mouth gaping. “Are you kidding me right now?”
“No.”
He bit his knuckle, holding back a smile. “All you have to do is open your mouth and say something to him and it will come out flirty.”
I scoffed. “No, it doesn’t.”
He covered his face with his hand, laughing. “Why do you think I did this bet with you two?” He laughed for a good ten seconds before he stopped himself. “ You know what? You’re right. Forget I said anything. Just keep on…doing your thing.”
I glared at him. Interacting with Logan had always felt more like teasing than some suggestive flirt. It hadn’t been a conscious thing, butnowI’d probably be very self-conscious about it.
He continued, “You can’t be obvious about this or else he’ll know something’s up. Bake him food, hang out with him on your porch, flirt, leave a little trail of sweets for him to nibble on. And then, when he’s close to the door, yank it open, toss him inside the house, and lock it.”
My nose wrinkled in distaste. “We can’t lose with a plan like that.”
“It’s foolproof.” He waited until I met his gaze, which had turned serious. “Logan and I leave for the cattle drive tomorrow morning. You have one week to figure out your move. Go get him, Tess.”
Me: How’s your thumb?
Logan: What? Who told you?
Me: I’ll give you one guess.
Logan: Freaking Jake.
22
Logan
We arrived home sore, tired, and dirty from the cattle drive on Friday night. My legs felt permanently bowed after being in a saddle for five days straight. Was there an easier way to move the cattle without driving them ourselves with horses? Yes. Was the cattle drive such a part of our summers for the past thirty years that we would kill my dad if he ever stooped to modernizing this part of our summer? Yes. There were some summers I had to miss the cattle drive, jobs I couldn’t get out of, but most of the time, I’d give my left kidney to get myself there.
Spending four days riding horses and moving cattle through fields, sagebrush, and mountains with my dad, Jake, and my adopted grandpa, Stitch, would have been the highlight of anybody’s year. Things went well, besides the fact that Stitch still served his “famous” campfire beans, insisting we all liked them. We didn’t. And the fact that Jake kept giving me winks and knowing glances anytime the mention of a girl was brought up—which was a lot. By the end of the ride, Stitch and my dad knew I was casually seeing Tessa. They didn’t know the details, thank goodness, but they already knew too much.
The time apart from Tessa Robbins should have been good for me. An opportunity to re-train my brain into not wanting to see her. Instead, I went through withdrawals. There were plenty of ways to keep my mind occupied on a cattle drive. My eyes were constantly looking ahead, watching for danger or cows to break from the group while trying to breathe with all the dust. Busy. Like a real cowboy. But dang if there wasn’t a lot of time just sitting in a saddle, wondering what Tessa would look like on a horse, thinking about her riding in front of me on Dodger, her head on my chest and my arms wrapped around her. I didn’t want Jake to be right, EVER, but lineswerestarting to feel blurred, just like he had predicted—which was my fault. The kisses during the fugitive game played on my mind far more often than they should have. It didn’t make sense. I had kissed plenty of girls. And usually, by the time we kissed, I was ready to move on.
Tessa was becoming a craving. My drug of choice. A very dangerous little addiction.
I pulled up to her driveway on Saturday evening. I’d spent most of the day in my dad’s shop, building cabinets and attempting to catch up after being gone for a week. But really, I spent most of the day re-cutting and re-measuring wood a dozen times because I couldn’t keep my mind focused on my job. I knew where I wanted to be, but I forced myself to stay and work until the last second.
She was helping a customer when I pulled up to her driveway. She wore her denim cutoff shorts and a loose white t-shirt tucked casually in the front. She had kicked off her flip-flops and was laughing with the woman as she helped load the produce into her car. She didn’t look my way, though she had to have heard my truck arrive. When the woman backed out of the driveway, I gave myself a stern pep talk before getting out of my truck.
Our eyes found each other across the driveway. I allowed myself to walk closer to her as long as I promised to keep things civil. The last time I saw Tessa, we’d kissed twice. My body definitely remembered that. I stopped with a respectable three feet between us.
“Hey, Jailbait,” I forced myself to say. The nickname was a good reminder of boundaries.
Her hands fell to her hips, her eyes flashing. “Is that any way to greet your date for the summer?”
I swallowed and held out my hand. “The last time, you broke too many rules. I’m terrified to see how you’d greet me now.”
If she noticed my hand left hanging, waiting to be shaken, she ignored it. “Ibroke too many rules?”
I paused, my head tilted, considering her. “We?”
“I think that was allyou.”
