Page 97 of His Eighth Ride

“I know I’ve had a crush on you since minute one,” he said. “Everyone knows that.” The last three words came in a tone of darkness, and Bobbie Jo wished she could erase it. “I didn’t mean to put any pressure on you at all. It was a lot of flirting and fun and jokes. You know that, right?”

“Yes,” she said. “And just so everything is out between us before we get there, I’ve wanted to go out with you for a while too. A long time, actually. I wished things between us weren’t just flirting and fun and jokes. But I didn’t know how to do that with you.” She looked away from the golden evening light bathing everything in her line of sight. “I still don’t.”

“Not everything tonight is a flirting joke,” he said. “This is a real conversation.”

She leaned her head back against the rest and smiled at her partial reflection in the glass. “Yeah,” she said. “It’s been nice, too.”

“I agree.” He kept driving, and Bobbie Jo kept thinking about what she could say to him to get him to stay on the farm. But the truth was, she might not even be there for much longer. You’ll be in town, though, she thought.

He pulled into the parking lot at Rockets, and Bobbie Jo’s time ran low. He parked; he dropped to the ground and came around to open her door for her; he filled the doorway, all smiles and gentlemanly cowboy vibes, and he reached for her hand.

Bobbie Jo gave it to him again, marveling at how wonderful skin-to-skin contact could be, and she slid into his arms. “I wish you weren’t leaving,” she said. “And I just need to make sure it’s not because of me.”

“Well, it’s partly because of you,” Tuck said. “I’m not going to lie about that. My feelings for you haven’t really changed—I’ve just hidden them better. But it’s like Tarr said this morning, maybe it’s just not the right time for us.”

“Do you think you’ll come back to the farm ever?”

“My family is here,” he said. “Of course I’ll be back in the area from time to time.”

“But not permanently.”

“Permanently is not in my plan right now, no.” He gazed at her with sadness and pure male desire. “I do wish things had been different when we’d first met. You know that, right?”

She nodded, letting her eyelids fall closed. “I won’t long-distance date again, so I won’t suggest that.”

He chuckled, and she leaned her cheek against his chest to feel the vibrations of it. “Yeah, the last time didn’t work out so well for you.”

“Maybe God will bring us together again,” she whispered.

“Maybe.” Tuck drew a deep breath, and Bobbie Jo lifted her head. He looked toward the restaurant and back to her. “I would really like to kiss you once before I leave. Just to have that with me.”

Her eyebrows went up. “Tucker Hammond, are you being a flirt right now?”

“No, ma’am.” He didn’t even smile, and Bobbie Jo’s slipped from her face too. “Distance can make the heart grow fonder, right? And if I know what I’m missing, maybe I’ll come back faster. Sooner.”

He didn’t seem to be joking or poking fun at her. Bobbie Jo did want to kiss him. So she slid her hands up his arms to his shoulders, then to cradle his face. “All right,” she whispered.

Tuck had never truly hesitated with her until that moment, and he looked at her for what felt like a good, long while but was probably only a second or two. Then he cupped the back of her head in one of his big, strong hands, and lowered his mouth to kiss her.

Bobbie Jo had had several boyfriends over the years, but none of them had ever, ever kissed her the way Tucker Hammond did.

So she kissed him with everything she had, hoping to give him a really good memory…that would hopefully bring him back to her someday.

thirty-one

Opal had everything set for her date with Tag by noon, and she’d sorted her seeds for this afternoon’s planting last night. So she took her tote out to the garden, her feet clad in a simple pair of running shoes instead of the garden boots Tag had said she needed.

The garden had dried, at least, and she’d been able to get in a few rows of corn and carrots and peas before she’d left for Raleigh. She’d taken in the neatly weeded rows last night after she’d returned to the farm close to dusk, and she’d known exactly who’d been there taking care of her garden in her absence.

Taggart.

Opal sighed as she got out the rake and hoe she needed to put in a row of pumpkins and then one of potato hills. She’d read all about how to space them and how much to water them while she’d rocked with Spencer and Violet out of town, and she got right to work. She pulled dirt this way and that, quickly realizing that building a hill for her pumpkins was harder than the videos she’d watched online made it look.

Still, she was determined to get this done today, so she could feel like she’d done something useful that day. Then she’d shower and prep herself for her date with Tag, who would be early over late.

Opal went over the things she wanted to tell him as she worked the earth, and she was so glad for good women in her life to help her. Both Molly and Jane had calmed her so much yesterday, and they’d given her some really great advice.

Let him talk, Jane had said. He wants a voice, Opal. Let him have it.

---