Page 15 of Beehives and Broken Heroes

He held a tray with three more to-go cups and handed them to the guys. She looked wistfully after them.

Cash grinned at her and took a big swig of his as Nash and Porter grabbed theirs and did the same. Cash knew exactly what she was thinking. Ugh. Why did her sister have to marry someone who knew her almost as well as he did her sister? Plus, he’d been gone for thirteen years! Had she changed so little? The thought was humbling.

Brandon reached out and grabbed a lock of her hair, tugging it gently. “Still have all your hair, I see.”

Now she was sure she was blushing. Since that night at her aunt’s in December when he’d done the same thing, tugging at a lock of her hair, the desire to cut it had fizzled out faster than a Fourth of July sparkler. So fast, no one had believed her when she’d told them they could stop hiding the scissors because she wasn’t going to cut it. So fast, it’d surprised even her. She refused to ponder why that was. Pondering led to overthinking, overthinking ledherto action, and action in this scenario was not what she going for. She had a plan!

No men.

Learn to be happy alone.

Become more like Jo.

Brandon’s fingers traveled down the lock he held, practically a caress. His comment wasn’t new either. On the few occasions he had gotten her alone since the scissor debacle, he’d done and said the same thing, like they were rehearsing for a play. And blast her riotous feelings, she’d loved it every time. He made and held eye contact, and she trembled.

Why was learnin’ to control one’s feelings so daggum difficult? She’d have to ask Heavenly Father for extra help with it in her nightly prayers.

Nash pointed between her and Brandon. “So, you two a couple?”

Allie’s jaw dropped. “What do you take me for?” It came out so defensive, it shocked even her.

Brandon faced her, jaw taut, light brown eyes chastising her sufficiently enough that his next words were unnecessary. “Excuse me?”

Step three. Name the emotion.

Humiliation? Yep. Deep, stark, humiliation.

She flinched as chuckles came from the direction of the truck. “I . . . I just mean we’re business partners and friends. That would be so unprofessional, to climb in bed . . .” She came up short, heat racing to her face at her stupid words.

The Slades and Cash were practically rolling with laughter now. She couldn’t even look at Brandon. Oh Lord, what he must think of her?

Step four. Regulate but don’t suppress the emotion.

She glared at the laughing buffoons. “Shut your pie holes!” The men went immediately silent, though they were still chuckling. “Brandon is classy, unlike you two who would hit on anything with two legs and a perky . . .” Her gaze shot up to Brandon; he raised a brow, waiting. “. . . smile.”

They started laughing again.

What was her problem? She was seriously sticking her foot in it today.

She chanced a peek at Brandon. His eyes were lit with mirth. At least he didn’t look mad at her anymore. Still, she wanted to die. To find some hole to crawl in and give up the ghost—she’d driven over a massive pothole a minute ago behind Harold’s Market; that might work.

She really shouldn’t have said that about the Slade boys. The guys had good taste in women, as far as she knew. Porter had even been into Jo for a minute in college. And she’d seen one of them hitting on Rielle, the gal who owned the kids’ camp, a time or two. Rielle was adorable.

Nash ambled over and threw an arm around her shoulder. “Oh, Allie. I forgot how much fun you are.”

Step five. Know how to express yourself.

She shoved his arm off. “Yeah, a real hoot.”

Porter wiped a tear out of his eye. “I can’t wait to tell Hudson and Cole about this.”

Great, she’d be a laughingstock to the whole Slade family. Perfect.

Cash pointed to her. “Brandon, how’d you know she was Allie and not Jo?”

Allie froze, the quick change in topic and the implications of Brandon’s answer bringing her up cold. Only two people in Allie and Jo’s lives had ever been able to tell them apart at first glance: their dad and Cash. Of course, as soon as either of them opened their mouths, people could easily pick out who was who, but that first glance had always stumped everyone. Could Brandon tell them apart now, too? A shiver ran up her spine at the thought.

She shot daggers at Cash with her eyes, willing him to die a slow and painful death. All he did was hide a laugh behind his cup. Well, then, she hoped he scalded his tongue.

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