Kissin' Tell (Rough Riders 13)

“How do you know that?”

“I’m an advisor to the club. Some of these kids need direction. Plus, it’s fun.”

That surprised her. “What else do you do for fun in your free time?”

“I hang out at the trap club. My cousins Colt and Kane roped me into refereeing at Little Buddies/Big Buddies flag football and basketball games. I shoot pool with Thurman, Warner and Ned.” He shrugged. “I’d rather do just about anything than stay home by myself. That ain’t fun.”

“That’s completely the opposite of the way I am. I’d hole up in my condo in Dallas all the time, if I could.”

“You love your place that much?”

No. I just don’t have anywhere else to go.

Tell kissed her forehead. “Well, I aim to change your antisocial ways now that you’re back here in the Wild West.”

“And force me to have fun.”

He grinned. “Yep. By any means necessary.”

They wandered to the concession stand hand in hand. Tell struck up a conversation with the couple ahead of them in line.

The woman kept sneaking looks at her, until Georgia finally asked, “I’m sorry. Do we know each other?”

“I doubt you’d remember me. I graduated the year after you. We had gym together and Mr. Larkin partnered us for—”

“Tennis,” Georgia finished. “We got second place. I remember that. You’re Allison.”

“Yes. And I was friends with RJ.” She smiled sadly. “Then again, everyone was friends with RJ.”

“My brother did have a knack for knowing everyone when he walked into a room.” Kind of like Tell.

“RJ was a great guy.”

That pang of sadness surfaced. “Yeah. He was.”

Tell squeezed her hand.

But the encounter was a pointed and poignant reminder to her that this small-town stuff didn’t appeal to her. Where everyone knew her sad family history. Where everyone paid attention to her purchases in the local grocery store, gossiping that she’d bought magnum condoms and a raunchy romance novel. She’d rather be anonymous in a big city than infamous in a small town.

She looked around the park. Everything seemed too perfect. Almost as if it’d been staged. Happy moms and dads resting on heirloom quilts while their kiddos ran wild. Friends laughing together. Reliving the types of memories she’d rather forget.

You don’t belong here.

Georgia had such a sense of disquiet she abruptly let go of Tell’s hand.

Tell frowned. “You okay?”

“Ah, yeah, I’m just going to use the facilities.”

And she fled.

Maybe this hadn’t been the best idea.

Georgia had been skittish all night. When she wasn’t ignoring everything and everyone around her.

It bothered him that she hadn’t joined in the conversations at the burger joint. Not that she’d been rude. She’d just seemed uninterested and entirely focused on her food.

Maybe she’s shy.

That jarred him.

Georgia Hotchkiss…shy?

No way. She’d always spoken her mind.

Hadn’t she?

No. If he remembered correctly, the only time she’d voiced her opinions was when Deck hadn’t been around. Like in history class. The rest of the time she’d kept quiet. So she wasn’t aloof or stuck-up, as most people—including him—had assumed.

As much time as Tell had spent watching her in high school, how had he not noticed that she was actually shy?

Because you were a teenage boy too busy imagining f**king her.

Seemed he, too, had seen only what he’d wanted to see.

When Georgia returned from the bathroom, her face was even more pale.

He was by her side in an instant. “What’s wrong?”

“I’m ready to go. If you want to stay and watch the end of the movie, it’s not that far to my place. I’ll walk.”

“Like hell you will.” He loomed over her. “Stay here. I’ll grab the blanket and be right back.”

They didn’t speak on the short ride to her house. After he’d parked in her driveway, he said, “You wanna tell me what’s really wrong?”

She continued staring out the window for another minute before she faced him. “Now that I’m back in Sundance I see a lot of mistakes I made.”

“Like what?”

“Like I didn’t make much effort in high school to make new friends.”

“Why’s that? Because you’re a little shy?”

Georgia looked at him sharply. “How’d you know?

“Lucky guess.” He kissed the back of her hand. “Go on.”

“I’m not painfully shy or anything. I was just raised in a God-fearing home where men were masters of their domain. My mom was a foreigner and introverted, so I ended up like her, where RJ took after my dad and was outgoing. Took me a long time to figure out most people thought I was stuck-up because I wasn’t like RJ.”

“With the last name McKay, I’ve dealt with a lot of those preconceived ideas too. It sucks.”

She nodded. “But mostly I didn’t try to find a best friend because I already had one.”

“Deck?”

She shook her head. “RJ. Whenever we moved to a new town, I didn’t worry about fitting in because I had him. Then he took to Sundance like he was born here and he kind of left me in the dust, which is probably why I clung to Deck so much. Everybody knew RJ. Everybody liked him.” She looked away. “I miss him. I know it’s been almost nine years and it should be easier, but it still hurts. And being here makes me face it every day.”

“Hey.” Tell leaned across the seat, gently encouraging her to look at him. “I know how that feels. I still expect my brother Luke to barrel up when we’re out fixin’ fence. Course, he’d tell me I was doin’ something wrong. That part I don’t miss.” He smiled. “But I miss him. Not the Luke who was a shitty husband to Jessie or the Luke who was Dad’s favorite kid as well as his favorite whipping post. I miss Luke, my brother. The guy he was when it was just the four of us. Not trying to impress the ladies, or trying to piss Dad off, or trying to make Mom laugh when she was so damn miserable. But the guy who taught me stuff. The guy who listened when I talked. He’s been gone almost five years and I still miss him every day. I know I’m lucky that I’ve got two other brothers. But neither of them replaces Luke.”

Her eyes filled with tears. “Thank you.”