Page 34 of Beehives and Broken Heroes

Rick: Just talked to Ralph this morning. He says you came down and booked his balloon for Harvest Ranch. I looked it up on a map. Apparently, it’s a podunk little town known for its fall festival.

Brandon almost ignored it. But letting go and moving on was more than just getting away. He tapped out a text.

Brandon: That’s right.

Rick: Want to tell me why you’re sending the Carroll Family Farm’s balloon there?

Brandon: They have a popular balloon festival.

Rick: Is that where you are?

He still hadn’t told his family where he’d moved. He just didn’t trust them to not show up unannounced. He was moving on, but he wasn’t ready forthat.

Brandon: It’s a good festival, with lots of buzz. Good marketing opportunity for us.

He left it at that, even though his brother sent another text he didn’t bother reading.

On his way out of the barn, he caught a flash of red running toward the house before it disappeared behind a rosebush. He grinned. What was she up to now? He walked up to the fence facing the pasture and waited.

A moment later, the soft crunch of someone tiptoeing on gravel found his ears. He waited until she was only a few yards away, then turned and leaned against the fence, facing her.

Allie froze in front of him like a deer in the headlights, arms up as though she’d been tiptoeing all dramatic-like, like a cat burglar from one of the old black-and-white films.

“Sunshine,” he said, in a deep drawl.

She dropped her arms. “How long have you known I was here?”

“Since before you hid behind that rosebush back by the house.”

Allie glanced over her shoulder. “Seriously? And you let me think you hadn’t seen me all this way?”

“I wanted you to feel good about yourself.” He gave her a crooked grin.

She sure was cute. She wore a mustard-yellow T-shirt today and army-style pants. Her hair had been artfully done and hung in big curls over one shoulder. He wanted to grab her up and kiss her. Just now, he noticed the shirt she held in her hands as she wadded it up and chucked it at him.

He caught it in one hand.

“Nice.” She scowled at him. “I just came to bring your shirt back.” With that, she turned on her heel and marched away. “Honey!” she called her dog.

Brandon pulled away from the fence with a chuckle and was after her in a flash. “Come on, sweetheart, you didn’t think you could sneak up on me, did you? With your feet crunching all through the gravel on the driveway, and that flaming red hair.”

Honey came running around the front of the house at the same moment that Allie made an about-face. Brandon nearly crashed into her. Honey still managed to weave between their legs.

She craned her neck back, not bothering to step away and make space between them—they were barely a foot apart. “I’ll have you know that in high school, we used to play night games, and I ruled.”

He grinned down at her. “Who did you play with?”

“Jo and Cash, obvi. The Slade twins and their little brother. Maribelle, and Tamara, Roger Lewis, Mike Spencer, Walt Hatch, and some of the Westbrooks—”

“So, mostly guys,” he said.

Her jaw dropped. “Are you implying they let me win?”

He leaned down. “I don’t know how aware you are of this, but you and Jo are foxes.”

She gasped and shoved at his shoulder. “I won because I was better than them.”

“And I’m sure that cute little figure, piercing blue eyes, and plump red lips had nothing to do with it?” He froze, a little in shock at what he’d just said. But heck, he’d just let Lucky think they were dating, so why not?

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