Page 2 of Boy Next Door at Mountain Creek Ranch
“Is there a problem here?” I ask, stepping up next to him.
The husband turns with an expression like he’s about to tell me where I can go but stop short when he sees me. His shiny bald head glistens from the sweat beading on it from the mid-morning sun. I stand easily a foot taller than the man, and my width is due to my muscles and not eating sweets like him. He swallows hard as his gaze moves up my wall of a chest to my face.
“This do-doesn’t concern you,” he sputters.
This man doesn't know that while I have no claim over Willow Holloway, he’s wrong that this doesn’t concern me. Although I’ve never admitted it out loud, I've been in love with Willow for as long as I can remember. And while I can’t ever act on my feelings. I’m not about to let some jackass with the self-righteous stick up his ass talk to her this way.
“The lady asked you nicely to move along.” I cross my arms menacingly. “I suggest you do what she says.”
The man blinks rapidly a few times, and I can see the wheels turning in his head, trying to figure a way out of this situation that doesn't involve a punch to the nose and saving face in front of everyone.
“Sweetheart, I think we should go.”
I smile at him, glad he made the right decision.
“You should have hit him,” the wife retorts.
“Will you be quiet, woman!” he hisses at her.
I imagine smoke billowing out of her nose from the expression on her face. I wait, watching them walk back into the crowd of people that had stopped to watch the scene. Many of them are already returning to their shopping, having moved on. Then I turn back to Willow.
"Are you okay?" I ask—a thrill coursing through me to actually be speaking to her. The last time I talked to her was in high school when she and I were paired together briefly for the science fair.
She brushes a strand of dark red hair behind her ear. A move I’ve seen her do a million times. What I wouldn’t give to feel if her hair is as soft as it looks.
“That was very kind of you.” She smiles shyly and looks down. “Thank you.”
I tilt my head, not wanting to waste a moment of seeing her face so close in person. I don’t know if I’ll have to wait another ten years before I talk to her again.
“I would have stepped in for anyone here,” I say, trying to sound nonchalant.
Her smile slips from her face. “Right, of course.”
Shit. In my attempt to overcompensate so it wouldn’t be obvious that I’m head over heels for her, I’ve ruined my moment to be her momentary hero. I try to think of something to say to fix it, but nothing comes to mind.
After a moment of uncomfortable silence between us, she picks up her tongs and pulls out an apple fritter from the case.
“Here, on the house as my way of thanking you.”
“I’m not a big apple fan,” I admit before I can check myself. “More of a peach kind of guy.”
Again, her smile disappears from something I’ve said. If I could punch myself in the face right now, I’d be tempted to do it.
“Cupcakes!” A little boy squeals in excitement and runs up next to me. He presses his little nose against the case. “Mommy, can I have one?”
The boy's mother walks up behind him and orders a half dozen. I step backward, allowing Willow to deal with her new customer. I give her an awkward half-wave, and she returns it with her own, before turning her full attention back to the little boy and his mother.
I am such an idiot. The temptation to punch myself in the face grows stronger with each step away from the woman I’ve wanted all my life but the one woman I could never have.
2
BEAU
Two days later and I’m still replaying my interaction with Willow in my mind. I’m trying to fix the tractor for the millionth time, when the sound of gravel crunching under tires up the drives catches the attention of me and my brother, Dean.
“What the heck is a Holloway doing here?” Dean asks a mix of irritation and shock in his voice.
“What?” I roll out from beneath the tractor and see Willow stepping out of her bright pink bakery minivan holding a Tupperware container. The wind picks up and blows her sundress against her body, making it look like the fabric is clinging to her curves. My dick twitches at the sight of her as she walks towards us. I push myself to my feet and wipe my hands on my overalls to get rid of the grease.
