“It’s just a dilapidated raft we built as kids and decided to put in a tree when it didn’t float.”
A smile lifted the corners of her mouth. She had one of those smiles that lit up her entire face, crinkling the corners of her eyes, wrinkling her nose, and bringing out her dimple. “That sounds awesome.”
“I’m sure it’s not as awesome as that tree house your daddy built you.”
Her gaze snapped back to him. “You saw my tree house?”
Since he wasn’t about to tell her he’d snuck into her backyard to see it after some of Huck’s friends had gone on and on about how cool it was, he lied. “Just heard about it.” He moved over to the swing his daddy had built his mama and sat down, pushing it with his bare foot. A bare foot Tully seemed extremely interested in. She stared at it for a good full minute before she finally pulled her gaze away and returned to their conversation.
“It was a nice tree house, but I would’ve loved to share it with a bunch of siblings.”
He hadn’t given much thought to Tully’s childhood—probably because he’d been too busy trying to survive his own. When he had thought about Tully’s life, he’d envied it. She’d had the perfect childhood with two loving parents who doted on her. Her mama was always at the school helping out with parties, bake sales, and fundraisers. She and the sheriff attended all of the school functions, smiling and cheering for anything their daughter did or achieved.
But now, he realized Tully hadn’t had the perfect childhood. It had to be lonely being an only child. Jaxon might get annoyed with his siblings, but now he realized he wouldn’t trade them . . . even for Tully’s childhood.
“So why are you here?” he asked. “Don’t tell me you’re ready to confess your desire for bad boys.”
Her cheeks flared again. “I don’t desire bad boys.”
“Still lying to yourself, huh?” He rolled to his feet and moved closer to her, or more like stalked her, causing her to back up against the porch railing. He reached out and captured a strand of her hair, letting it slide between his thumb and finger. The heat in her eyes told him everything he needed to know.
She wanted him.
And he had to acknowledge that he wanted her too. Just the feel of her silky hair slipping through his fingers had him feeling like he’d been in the sun too long. He knew all it would take was a brush of her plump lips to make him hard as the river rock walls holding up the porch.
Which was why he dropped his hand and stepped away.
He could never be with someone, even if only for sex, who didn’t believe in his innocense.
“Then why are you here?” he asked a little gruffer than he’d intended.
She took a deep breath and slowly released it. “I’m here because I can’t stand the thought of Honky Tonk Heaven never opening its doors again.”
He laughed. “I should have known Mrs. Reed would blab to everyone in town about me trying to get a loan.”
“She didn’t blab. My grandma told me.”
He was surprised. Birdie was the last person he thought would gossip.
“Well, then you know that there’s no way to continue the renovations.” He looked at her hair. “What happened to your curls?”
She awkwardly ran a hand over her hair. “I straighten them. Why?”
“Well, you shouldn’t. They’re you.”
She blinked. “Wild and untamable?”
He studied her. “I’m starting to think you do have a wild side, Tallulah Gentry. I think that’s why you’re so wrapped up in Honky Tonk Heaven.”
He figured she’d deny it. Instead, she stared back at him for long moment before surprising the hell out of him.
“I’ll loan you the money to finish renovations on the dancehall.”
He wondered if he had gotten heatstroke on the deck of the treeboat. “What?”
She lifted her chin as if getting courage to continue. “I have equity in my house and can get an equity loan from the bank. I’ve checked. How much money do you need?”
“More than you can probably get.”
