His Little Sunshine by Della Cain
Chapter Two
Quinn
Like a date?
I hadn’t asked him as a date. In my head, he was off-limits. How could he not be? Brad worked with my cousin’s boy, and that could make things complicated really quickly.
But there was that glimmer of hope in his voice, and I caved…sort of. I left it up to him, which was probably the same thing as saying no in the long run. Brad was so confident and strong when it came to discussing work, but anytime it got personal, he turned into a blushing, adorable mess. There was something so attractive about that.
Reality check: I wasn’t who he wanted. His being in the barn only proved that. The guys weren’t setting up a weird sex-filled afternoon of kinky goodness. They were going to play with blocks and bubbles and get party favors of the youthful variety. And he wasn’t there…he was in the barn hiding. No. He wasn’t wanting a daddy. He wanted a night away from the daddies.
If only he knew I was one of those daddies. Not that I’d had a little of my own recently—not for years. Heck, I hadn’t even played at the club in that long. That didn’t change the fact that Daddy was who I was at my core. I could date, sure, but something would be missing without that caregiver element. I didn’t need my partner to be a little. Not really, but whomever I settled down with had to be someone willing to accept my caregiver side at least part of the time. That was who I was, and suppressing it because I liked someone was dishonest at best.
And there I was jumping far ahead of myself. Brad had agreed to go to dinner with me. Nothing more. And I was biting off relationship issues already. What a shocker that I was single.
I finished the last of my chores. I could’ve asked one of the ranch hands to do them, and they’d have had no problem doing so, but this gave Brad some time to think and hang out with the animals, and it gave me time to overthink things like it was my job.
Had it not been for the party, I’d have chewed Holden’s ear off. He was the closest thing I had to a brother and was my best friend. Of course, had it not been for the party, I wouldn’t have this maybe-sort-of date tonight.
Brad was sitting on the porch rocker when I arrived at home. I lived in what would’ve traditionally been the house for the retired ranchers. Holden lived in the main house and, since there were no older generation inhabitants, he’d used it as part of a come-work-for-me bribe. I’d have accepted, even if he only offered me a pile of hay in the barn. I loved the work, and being away from my piece-of-garbage father was icing on the cake.
“I’m early.” He had a pillow on his lap. Was he hard and hiding it like he had at the barn? Probably not. He was probably fidgeting the way he did when he got nervous.
“I should’ve told you to just go in and make yourself at home,” I apologized. “Let me get you something to drink while I take a quick shower.”
“I’ll be in in a second.”
I didn’t push, instead going inside and trying not to think about why he didn’t just come in with me. My mind wandered back to his tightening jeans in the barn.
Maybe the whole going-out-to-eat thing wasn’t the best idea.
I poured a tall glass of lemonade and set it on the counter for him, leaving a sticky note beside it: There’s more in the fridge. I drew a little cow. I didn’t have what anyone would call artistic abilities, but my doodles were good enough to get the point across.
With the amount of “gross” work I’d done for the day, my shower couldn’t be as quick as I wanted. I’d been dealing with the release of a new round of parasitic wasps to keep the flies at bay, and that meant hanging out near the manure. I didn’t mind the work, but I owed it to Brad and anyone in the restaurant to make sure I was good and clean.
When I came back downstairs, with my hair damp and my favorite jeans on, the lemonade still sat on the counter, the note lying beside it.
Sure enough, Brad had not come in. He wasn’t sitting on the rocker anymore, instead pacing the length of the porch. I stood and watched him through the window for a couple of minutes, trying to figure out what I was seeing. If he didn’t want to go, I’d give him an out. But if he wanted to but was apprehensive, I’d try to make things easier for him.
I took in a deep breath and opened the door. “You didn’t like my picture?” I teased.
“What?” he snapped, his face squished up in confusion. “I didn’t take a picture.”
“By the lemonade. I drew you a cow.” I chuckled. “You can take my picture, though, if you want.” The pinkening of his cheeks was delightful.
“I didn’t go in.” He slid his hands into his front pockets. “When I looked inside, you were already going up the stairs, and it felt like an invasion of privacy. I know you said I could, and I know I said I would, but that was how that happened.” Adorable babbly mess. He might not be into the daddy thing, but he could sure use one.
“Well, come on in. It’s a masterpiece.” I held the door open, and he waited about fifteen seconds before walking in. “It’s on the counter straight ahead. The lemonade is not homemade, so no hurt feelings if you don’t like it. It was the G.O. at the grocer last week.”
“G.O.?” he asked.
I’d forgotten that some things in small towns were not identical to the cities. “Every week at Pike’s they have a Get One, a G.O. If you buy your groceries there, you get something for free. Last week, it was lemonade. You never know what it will be though.” Whatever they had that was short dated was the rule of thumb, but sometimes it was something good.
“It’s like grocery roulette.” He smiled at me and picked up the paper beside the glass. “You did draw me a picture.”
“Did you think me a fibber?”
“I thought…I don’t know what I thought, but it was definitely not that.” He slid the note into his pocket. “I guess I thought it was joshing in a way?” He shrugged. “It’s a really nice cow. Did you draw comics as a kid?”
I hadn’t thought about that in years. “I did. Super Cowboy.” I had to laugh at how silly it had been. “My cowboy could clean all the stables in fifteen minutes and train horses in one lesson.”
“Did they save the world?” he asked, his hand wrapping around the glass, and I was definitely not thinking about it wrapping around something else. Nope. Not me.
“Mostly they saved the horses from pirates.”
“Pirates? Like walk-the-plank pirates?”
“I liked pirates.” I shrugged. “Why don’t you finish your lemonade, and I’ll grab my wallet and keys.” He had to be getting hungry. Goodness knew I was.
I grabbed my things and, when I got back to the kitchen, he was washing his glass. “You’re the guest.” I took the cup from him and set it in the sink. “Let me take care of you.”
He swallowed and then gave a nod, no words coming from his lips. Interesting.
“Let’s get some dinner.”
I led him out to my truck, a bit embarrassed by how dirty it was. He didn’t seem to notice and climbed on in.
“Where do you want to go? The cafe is closed by now, but there’s Diner Time and Trent’s.” He’d probably been to both, given they were the options in town, and he’d been spending more and more time here since Declan became a permanent fixture and they started their business.
“You’ve been working all day. Diner Time is probably the better option, especially if Junior is working at Trent’s.”
“Have you been to Diner Time?” I started the ignition. “Or did you just have a burger Junior made?”
“I was told not to order the burger. I had the cheese sticks with all the cheese melted out of them while they were cooking.” He cracked his window. “They were still good but not meal good. Declan likes Diner Time.”
“Stan can cook,” I agreed and off we went to dinner on our not date, maybe a date, he still hadn’t told me which adventure.