stomach, Brynn nodded. “Yeah. I just finished over at the bake sale.” She wrinkled up her nose as she glanced down at her box of muffins. “Would it be okay if I stash these in your truck? I’m afraid if I take them in there, they’ll be gone no matter where I hide them.”
Ford eyed the box, still too far to really see inside. “Are those berry streusel muffins?”
“Might be,” she said lightly, something ticklish shooting down one leg.
“Do I get one if I say yes?”
“Will you say yes for a maybe?”
Shay released a giggle that she bit back, watching the two of them like a tennis match.
Ford’s smile softened, and Brynn lost her breath in an instant. “Absolutely.”
“It’s not locked yet,” Shay told her in an undertone.
Brynn nodded and hurried over, opening the nearest door and sliding the box onto the seat. “Thanks,” she told Shay, running a hand through her hair and tousling it.
“Not her truck,” Ford pointed out, still grinning at the two of them.
Shay rolled her eyes and looped her arm through Brynn’s. “Ignore him. You look great for working a bake sale booth all day.”
“I feel sweaty,” Brynn confessed as they moved toward the entrance of Roosters. “Thank goodness these off-shoulder tees are in right now, so I don’t actually sweat through it.”
“Perks, right?” Shay looked her over quickly. “Still. That jewel green is beautiful with your eyes and your hair. It just works.”
Brynn blushed a little, seeing as how the girl was complimenting her appearance in front of the guy who . . .
Well, who made Brynn’s stomach flip and butterflies rush inside her chest. That’s who.
“Well, I may be underdressed, who knows?” she grumbled half-heartedly. She quickly turned her attention to Shay instead. “I love this ensemble. Reminds me of home. And your hair is fantastic all loose and curled.”
Shay had gone with a western shirt as well, though hers had a distinctly Aztec vibe to it, with lots of turquoise hints, and she’d put on turquoise jewelry to match. Paired with a turquoise belt buckle and some dark-wash jeans, she would have any attention she wanted tonight, especially when her sandy-blonde hair hung around her shoulders like she was some cowgirl angel. If there was dancing in this place, she’d be dancing all night.
More than Brynn would be, at any rate.
“Where’s home again?” Shay asked her.
“New Mexico. Recently home, anyway. And who knows what the future holds?”
As though her subconscious took over, Brynn glanced over at Ford with a hesitant smile. Her eyes fell to the guitar case he carried, and her smile pulled to an all-out grin.
“What?” he demanded, matching her smile as he held the door for them both. “What’s that for?”
“Are you playing tonight?” she asked with a squeal, not bothering to hide how excited the thought made her.
Ford ducked his chin, glancing over at the street in a bashful way. “Might be.”
“The Lost Creek Wranglers asked him to join them for the last two numbers of their set,” Shay told her in a loud whisper. “Because he’s amazing.”
“That’s fantastic!” Brynn gushed as she took his free hand, squeezing hard. “I can’t wait to hear it!”
Ford looked at their hands before looking up at her, making her shiver as he did so. “Just remember what I told you about my playing. Don’t forget it, now.”
That made her shiver, too.
“I won’t,” she assured him, sliding her hand from his with a slow fire that somehow traveled to her pinky toe.
He nodded and nudged his head toward the inside, then followed when she and Shay entered.
“What is it with people here using their heads to point?” Brynn whispered to Shay.
“It’s a thing,” came her soft reply. “And not just here. What did he tell you about his playing?”
Brynn clamped down on her lips hard and shook her head.
Shay scoffed loudly, looking away. “Girl, I will get you drunk and make you tell me.”
“Fat chance,” Brynn said with a laugh. “I hear you’re pretty musical yourself, Shay Hopkins.”
“Not like Ford,” Shay insisted, shaking her head. “I can sing a little, but he doesn’t even have to. What he can do with the guitar is extraordinary.”
If she hadn’t thought the siblings were related before, that would have cemented it. Neither of them would accept praise for themselves and had to lift up the other instead. It was adorable, and it was maddening.
And, apparently, it was the way the Hopkinses were.
“Whatever,” Brynn told her, rolling her eyes. “I’ve seen the video on Eric’s channel