by J. M. Madden
"Yes, it does," Brock agreed. He already knew what he wanted.
When the smiling waitress returned with their drinks, Payton ordered a bowl of green chili soup and a chicken salad sandwich. Brock ordered the brisket burger, with French fries.
The Cast Iron Grill had a wonderful atmosphere, homey and country and very laid back. It was one of his favorite restaurants, though he didn't get to enjoy it often.
But as he looked at Payton sitting across from him, the restaurant lost its shine. She drew his eye and kept his attention. He glanced around the restaurant. It was filled with both men and women, young and old, but he didn't want to look away from her. She'd curled her hair for him. He wracked his brain, trying to remember when he'd ever seen her hair curled and he couldn't.
There was something about her expression that was joyful. A smile played at her full lips as she watched the baby a few tables away, and her eyes were full of laughter. He wanted her to look at him like that.
"You know we're going to have to get a piece of pie, too," he told her.
She grinned at him. "Well, of course! You might have to carry me to the truck when we're done."
In his mind's eye, he could see swinging her up into his arms, but to carry her to the bedroom. Those curls would spill across his pillow, framing her loveliness. Her breasts would be arched high.
"Brock?"
He blinked, jerking back to the present. Payton was staring at him, her head tilted quizzically. She must have said his name a couple times. "Sorry. I had something else playing in my head."
Her lips tilted up into a sexy smile, as if she knew what he were thinking. Her gaze drifted over his face, lingering on his lips.
The spell was broken as the waitress arrived with their food, plates plunking down in front of them.
"Wow, that was fast," Payton smiled at the waitress.
"We aim to please," she replied with a smile and a wink.
The food looked fantastic and they dug in as soon as the woman left.
Payton groaned as she took the first spoonful. "I've never had soup like this anywhere else. My mother used to make a version of it, and she was a good cook, but this is phenomenal."
Brock's mouth was too full to answer her so he nodded his head. They ate in silence for several minutes, and Brock appreciated that she didn't feel the need to blather on about crap like a lot of women did.
The baby a few tables over started to cry. Brock had no idea how old she was, but she held her hands out to be picked up. The mother left her chair and pulled the baby out of the high chair, cuddling her in spite of the food he could see all over her mouth.
He glanced at Payton. She had a soft smile on her lips as she watched the interaction.
The waitress returned to ask them how they were doing and Brock took the chance to order pie. He ordered the blueberry banana split pie, and Payton ordered the strawberry banana split pie. When the pieces arrived, piled high with whipped cream and nuts, Payton's eyes got huge. He grinned at her.
"Want to try my blueberry?"
She looked at it and he could tell she wanted to. She nodded her head and he scooped a forkful, holding it out over the table. Her eyes widened at the offer, but she leaned forward to take it. Her eyes fluttered shut as she began to chew and she groaned. "Oh, that is so good."
She took a forkful of her strawberry pie and held it out to him.
Brock got a little choked up at the exchange. This wasn't what he ever expected doing with her, but he was loving every minute of it. He detested strawberries, but he took the bite anyway just because she was offering it.
Actually, it wasn't that bad.
Even though it was the middle of the day, this was the best date he'd ever been on. And it wasn't like they were doing anything amazing, they were just being together.
They finished their pie, Payton groaning occasionally, keeping Brock's nerves on edge.
Brock wanted to steal her away and shut off the world for a while. The thought of being with her didn't freak him out as much as it used to, but he had a long way to go before he was totally flinch free. Going from childhood friend to potential lover was a bit of a swing, but he felt like he was doing okay with it. He’d better be, he was thinking about her all the time and he didn’t ever want to stop.
As he paid the bill, she brushed her hand over the back of his shirt, across the width of his shoulders. Brock wasn't one for casual touching, but that felt amazing. As they walked back to the truck and trailer, he rested his hand on her lower back. The natural sway of her hips enticed him.
When they reached the truck he opened the door for her, waiting for her to climb up in. Then snapped it shut behind her.
As he circled the truck he tried to adjust his jeans. He'd been half hard all through lunch and he knew being close to her in the truck was going to be rough.
Payton smiled at him as he got in the truck and cranked the ignition. They pulled out of the lot and headed north toward home.
When Payton reached across the seat divider to run her hand down his arm, it seemed natural to take her hand in his own, resting it on his thigh. That twisted her arm a little awkwardly, though.
Removing the bottles of water from the cup holders, he tossed them in the back, then lifted the divider out of the way. Grinning, Payton released her seatbelt and slid to the center section, fastening the belt there. Then they held hands, resting on their touching thighs.
Once again, Brock was shocked at how natural everything seemed. Payton fit at his side like she was supposed to be there, and their hands meshed like they'd held hands for many years. There was no grappling and readjusting, just sitting quietly and enjoying the touch.
Other women had tried to force this on him, this intimacy, but it hadn't worked. And he realized now that he was the one reaching for her more often than not. Was he so starved for this casual acceptance, the comfortable rightness of being with Payton?
Payton leaned her head against his shoulder, and he could tell that within a few seconds she'd dozed off. The pie had done her in, he thought with a smile. She could sleep all he way home if she wanted to, as long as she'd use his shoulder.
* * *
Payton's head rocked forward and she caught herself.
"Sorry, sweetness. I tried to decelerate slowly but I had to stop for oncoming traffic."
She blinked, trying to orient herself. They were at the Honeywell exit, turning right. Her left hand was numb. Had they been holding hands the entire way home? Brock flexed his hand as well. Apparently they had.
"I am so sorry," she murmured. "I can't believe I fell asleep like that."
"It was the pie," he said firmly.
She laughed. "I think so, actually."
Leaning forward, she stretched her spine and popped her neck. "That can't have been comfortable."
"It was fine, actually. I enjoyed taking care of you."
She grinned at him. "Well, you know, I don't sleep with just anyone."
He grinned back at her. "That's good to know. I don't think I'd be okay with you sleeping on every man's shoulder."
"Yours is definitely the most comfortable," she told him.
They grinned at each other like idiots, then she leaned up for a kiss. Glancing away from the road for a moment he kissed her. When Payton rested her hand on his thigh, he tensed.
His gaze jerked back to the road and Payton left her hand where it was. She loved that she could affect him with such an innocuous touch. She ran her hand down his thigh to his knee, then back up. The fists that rested on the steering wheel clenched, turning his knuckles white.
Payton grinned, enjoying his reaction. So, she did it again.
"You need to be careful, Payton."
She glanced at his clenched jaw. "Why?"
"Because you're heading down a path I don't think you're ready for."
She barked out a laugh. "Are you serious? I've been waiting for this for years. Literally years. I'm way further along in this relationship than you a
re, Brock."
He gave her a look, searching her eyes. Payton kept her expression serene. Eventually he looked away and she could tell by his expression that she'd given him something to think about.
As they drove through Honeywell, she kept her hands to herself, but anyone looking would see her sitting in the middle of the bench seat of the truck, hip to hip with Brock.
They got back to the Blue Star just a while later and she was sad for their little adventure to end. He backed the trailer into its slot beside the outbuilding.
She slid out of the driver's side behind him and he lifted her down, though she really didn't need the assist. Brock looked at her for several long seconds before pulling away.
Payton was tired of being the one chasing all the time, so she circled the truck and retrieved her going on a date girly purse, slinging the strap over her shoulder. Brock had taken a few steps toward the barn, so she headed in that direction as well, falling into step beside him. When they reached the shade of the barn she dug into her purse for her key fob. Pushing a couple of buttons, she started her truck remotely. The AC could work on cooling off the interior while she said her goodbyes.
Brock retrieved two bottles of root beer from the icebox. Payton grinned as she took it. This had always been Brock's favorite beverage.
"Thank you," she murmured, twisting off the cap.
"You don't have to leave right away, do you?"
She shook her head and he disappeared into the tack room again, retrieving a couple of fold-out canvas chairs. He brushed hers off first, making sure it was as clean of cobwebs as possible, then brushed his own off. Then they sat in the chairs in the aisle of the barn.
The sun was overhead right now and had only crept in this western end a few feet.
"What's on the list for this coming week for the ranch?"
He told her about the huge amount of lumber coming for the fence, and the carpenters to work on the roof. They had gravel coming for the driveway.
"And what about you," he asked.
Payton blinked. "Work, obviously. Charlie and I are pulling an OT job at the T-ball championships in a couple weeks."
They settled into silence.
"When are your parents coming back?"
"Not till Tuesday. Mom sent me a text earlier."
Brock scrolled through a few screens on his phone then held it out to her. On it was a crooked picture of Francine and Garrett, both grinning as Francine obviously tried to take a selfie, with the sunrise in the background. Garrett still wore his arm brace but there was a vitality in his eyes that hadn't been there for a while. "Wow, they look happy. Good for them."
Brock nodded, replacing the phone in the case. "I never thought he'd hand over the reins so completely. It's kind of taken me off guard."
"I'm sure it has. He didn't hang on so long because he didn't trust you though, he just didn't want to give up the control."
Brock nodded. "Yeah, I realize that. He's gonna shit a brick when he finds out about the bull on the loose."
Payton snorted. "As if you could have prevented that. It sounds like he had help getting out so I certainly wouldn't put that on your head. I think when your dad hears the details he'll understand. I distinctly remember his prize Quarter stud getting out and causing havoc some years ago. There was a baby boom eleven months later of pretty babies that looked suspiciously like Rustic Ridge."
Brock laughed. "Yeah, you're right. I’d forgotten about that."
Tipping back his head, he swallowed the root beer down, setting the bottle on the floor between them. Payton took a big swallow of hers, then the last swallow. She held her bottle up to Brock in a toast. "Thank you very much for a lovely day."
Brock tipped his hat to her. "It was my pleasure."
Payton stood up from the chair and crossed to drop the bottle into the trash can. Brock tossed his in as well as he joined her. He fell into step beside her as she crossed to her truck.
"So, I've been wondering," he paused to clear his throat. "Are you going to Old Man Johnson's birthday potluck tomorrow afternoon?"
"I thought about it. Yes."
He looked out over the iron paddock, where the bull dozed. "Maybe we can drive up together."
Payton fought to keep her mouth from hanging open in surprise. "Okay," she managed.
In her wildest dreams, she never thought Brock would be willing to be seen in public with her so soon. He had just agreed to date her two days ago. This seemed like a massive step.
"Are you sure about this?"
His dark brows furrowed as if he were trying to figure out her intonation. "It's too soon, isn't it?"
Payton blinked. "Well, I think it might be. You're going to have a lot of people asking questions. I mean, they are anyway, but if we show up together it's going to be on like Donkey Kong."
Grinning at her joke, he nodded, looking less tense. "Okay, we'll back off a bit then."
In direct contradiction of his words, he leaned forward to kiss her. Payton refused to allow herself to be disappointed because he’d listened to her advice. She didn't want him to feel uncomfortable. And if they showed up together arm in arm, there would be a huge amount of guessing and gossip.
He kissed her thoroughly, but he still seemed a little distracted. When she pulled away from the barn a minute later, he was looking at the ground, digging his boot heel into the gravel.
Payton appreciated that he was being cautious. This relationship was hard enough without five million other people butting their noses into their business.
Chapter 15
Brock returned to the chairs in the barn aisle and sank down into one. Pulling the phone from the clip, he paged through until he found his parents’ picture again. They looked happier than ever. It looked like they were having fun, in spite of the issues around them. On the spur of the moment he pressed the dial button.
His father answered on the third ring.
"'Lo."
Brock grinned at the laziness he heard in his father's voice. "Did I wake you up?"
"Of course not," his father said. "Okay, maybe you did. What's up, son?"
Garrett Lowell yawned on the other end of the line. Brock felt bad for calling him. "Sorry I woke you up, Dad. I can't remember you ever taking a nap in the middle of the day."
"Ever since the accident I have been," Garrett admitted. "And I tell you, boy, it's pretty nice. I wake up refreshed enough to face the rest of the day. This arm is taking a lot out of me."
"I bet."
"Ranch doing okay?"
"Yeah, not bad. We've had a few issues."
Brock related the Mopey Dick issue, and the fact that it looked like he'd been herded.
"CrookNeckCreek is hard up for water. They don't have the springs like we do, so they have to haul water in rom out of county. I haven't dammed anything up, but they're very aware that they're getting my runoff. If I decided to build a lake the size of Honeywell, there's nothing they could do about it. They've always tried to put one over on us. They're testing you Brock, testing your boundaries. Seeing if you'll be able to keep it as flush as I have through the years."
Yes, that was probably exactly true, he realized. Maybe they'd been trying to get him into trouble at the bar as well. Things began to become clearer in his mind.
"Okay, Dad. I'm getting what you're telling me and it feels right. I'll let Sheridan know and we'll see what we can do about returning the favor. Maybe that runoff stream needs to go pee yellow for a while or something."
Garrett laughed. "Oh, wouldn't that piss them off?"
Brock laughed as well, enjoying this playful side of his father.
"So, how's Payton?" Garrett asked.
Brock frowned at the odd note in his father's voice. "She's fine, why do you ask?"
"Oh, no reason," his father said quickly.
That didn't sound completely above board. "Actually, she's had some trouble recently."
He told his dad about Payton's mare getting injured.
"Y
ou helped her out, though, right?"
"Of course I did, Dad. I wouldn't leave her hanging."
His father sighed on the other end of the line. "I know you wouldn't boy. You know, Payton has grown into a wonderfully strong woman. Running that place on her own. Working all the time. I hear she's dating that deputy though. I had hoped she'd have a little more sense that that."
"She's not dating him," Brock growled. "They're friends."
His father gave a knowing chuckle. "I've been out of the dating scene for quite a while, but even I know that sounds lame. Did he say that or did she?"
"She did," Brock admitted.
"Then the deputy has other plans. Hope she doesn't get herself in trouble like that other woman."
Brock's temper was beginning to boil just at the thought, but he also realized his father was messing with him. "You can cut the act, Dad. I'm on to you."
"What do you mean?" he asked innocently.
Then Brock connected the dots. Payton had said that Cheyenne already knew. "Did you talk to Cheyenne?"
Garrett laughed. "Maybe we did. How's it going, boy?"
Brock frowned. "You're not going to chew me out for going after Payton?"
"I hear she's been going after you."
Oh, boy. Just because they were out of town didn't mean they were out of reach. Somebody had cued them in on the kiss in the square. "It's been a mutual endeavor," he clarified.
His father cackled on the other end of the line. Brock heard murmuring in the background, then his mother's excited squeal. "So, you guys are okay with me dating Payton?"
"Yes, of course we are, Brock. We wondered when you'd realize what a gem you had waiting right there for you."
"We're not eloping, for cryin’ out loud, but we have decided to date."
"That's fine, small steps, small steps,” his father responded quickly. "Gotta start somewhere, anything is better than nothing."
Brock shook his head, wondering where his calm, deliberate father had gone. The nut that had replaced him was a little scary.
"When did the two of you decide we would be good together?" he asked out of curiosity.
