Page 51 of Bravo

“Had enough of it by graduation, then?” I ask.

He laughs. “Never had to. We were homeschooled our whole lives.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, it was great. We got to do our schoolwork in the first part of the day, were done by lunch, then spent the rest of the afternoon running around like wild children on the ranch.”

I smile. “Seems we have some solid ground, cowboy.”

He glances over at me and arches a brow. “Oh, yeah?”

“I was homeschooled too,” I tell him honestly. “Both of my parents worked from home, so we got to spend a lot of time together.” My throat burns with emotion, and I try to swallow down the fresh wave of pain.

“Eventually, if I get lucky enough that God blesses me with a family, I’m hoping I get to offer my kids the same type of life I had.”

His words tug at my heartstrings.

If God is truly listening, I hope He grants Bradyn his desires. I may not know him well, but if anyone deserves a family to love, a wife to hold, and children to raise, it’s this man right here.

“I’m sure it’ll happen for you,” I tell him with a soft smile. Then, after a few more moments of awkward silence, I clear my throat. “Well, this conversation got heavy. How about something lighter? Do you like music?”

“I do.”

“What kinds?”

“Country, but I listen to a lot of Christian rock, too.”

“Christian rock? That’s a thing?” I ask, arching a brow.

His grin would’ve knocked me right down if I’d been standing. “You ever heard of Skillet?”

“I know what a skillet is.”

Leaning forward, he grabs his phone from the cup holder and tosses it to me. “Code is 0214. Unlock it and open up the music app. It’s the top playlist.”

With everything neededfor the barn rebuild ordered and on the schedule to be delivered tomorrow, our task list for the morning is done. It’s definitely bittersweet knowing this outing is nearly over, even though every moment I spend with Bradyn Hunt, I like him more. What’s not to like?

He’s handsome, strong, smart, and I watched him quite literally load a bunch of stuff into the back of an elderly woman’s car when he saw she was struggling.

Which means we might as well go ahead and add kind to that list, too.

We haven’t spoken a whole lot since stopping to eat, though, and the silence is deafening. “So Skillet is a cool band. I never would’ve thought Christian rock was a thing.”

He laughs and plucks a fry off of his tray. “They’re my favorite. Saw them in concert a few years back. Elliot and I were in Lubbock, and they had a show, so we popped in. Was a great show.”

“That’s awesome. I’ve never been to a concert. Hope to go one day, though.”

“Really? Never?”

I shake my head. “I was relatively sheltered.”

“Well, maybe we can go one day. I’d love to see them again.”

Does he realize he essentially just asked me out? Or was it just a friend thing? Either way, my heart leaps at the thought of spending more time with him, even as the pit in my stomach reminds me it’s impossible. “Maybe.”

“Do you have any siblings?” he asks.

“What?” That sick feeling returns.

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