Page 5 of Art of Love

Abe leaned against the side of the truck, tugging the brim of his ball cap lower. Maybe he was being paranoid. He hadn’t seen any cameras, no press lurking around, no obvious signs that anyone had followed him here. But he knew better than to let his guard down. Fame had a way of making a man feel like a fish in a damn glass bowl.

“Excuse me…”

Abe turned just as two young women, barely out of their teens, approached with shy smiles and wide, eager eyes. One clutched her phone, the other tugged at the hem of her tank top.

Oh, hell.

“You’re Abe Collins, right?” the braver of the two asked, her cheeks already pink with excitement.

Max let out a quiet snort beside him, clearly enjoying this way too much. Abe shot him a glare before offering the girls a polite nod. “Yeah, that’s me.”

The girl with the phone practically bounced on her heels. “We thought it was you! My sister and I are huge fans. We saw you play in Portland last year. It was amazing.”

Abe scratched at the back of his neck. “Appreciate that. Glad you enjoyed the show.”

The second girl, the quieter one, spoke up. “Are you playing at the county fair this weekend?”

Abe shook his head. “Nah, not this year. Just here helping out a friend.”

Both girls glanced over at Max, and Abe watched one of their jaws drop.

“You’re Max Wilson!” Her smile grew. “Gosh, both of you here together. Could you both sign something for us?” The first girl lifted the hem of her white tank top, revealing a smooth stretch of skin above the waistband of her jeans. “We don’t have anything else.”

Max coughed, barely holding back a laugh.

“Yeah, alright.” Abe shot him another glare.

He took their pen and signed their skin, careful to keep it above the fabric line so he wouldn’t get accused of anything later. Max followed, choosing to sign his name on their sleeves instead.

“Thank you so much!” The girl beamed at him before turning to her sister. “Can we get a picture?” She waved her phone.

“Sure,” he said and they both stood looking into her phone while she snapped a few photos of the four of them.

“I told you it was him!” He heard one say to the other as they giggled and hurried back off towards the auction barn.

Abe exhaled and rubbed a hand over his face. “Well, that was fun.”

Max chuckled, opening the truck door to grab a water bottle. “Yeah. I found it highly entertaining. I always love being recognized.”

Abe shot him a look as his friend dropped off.

“Right,” he growled and lowered his hat some more in hopes that no one else would recognize him.

It wasn’t like he wasn’t used to this. He’d been dealing with fans for years now. But he had come here to lay low, not sign autographs in the middle of a damn horse auction.

Before Max could tease him further, a ranch hand leading two haltered horses emerged from the barn.

“There they are,” Max said, stepping forward as the mare and gelding were brought over. The mare’s ears twitched as she took in her new surroundings, while the buckskin gelding stood solid, steady as a rock. Yeah, he instantly knew he could fall for that horse.

Abe forced himself to shake off the lingering discomfort from the attention and focused on the horses instead.

At least with them, there were no expectations. No crowds. No cameras.

Just the familiar, steady rhythm of something real.

And right now, that was exactly what he needed. In the two days since he’d arrived in the small town, he’d gotten plenty of peace and quiet.

Shortly after unloading the horses in their new state-of-the-art stalls, complete with heated flooring and cameras, they headed down to the beach.