he reached out and gathered a handful of her skirt in his hand.
She said nothing, and he enjoyed the rougher texture of the fabric. “I really like this dress, Tam,” he said, lifting his gaze to meet hers.
“Do you?” she asked, her smile quick and filled with white teeth. “I’m glad. I bought it online and haven’t worn it yet.”
“Mm.” He backed up and closed her door. He’d already known she hadn’t worn the dress yet. He saw her at church—the only time Tam wore skirts or dresses—and he’d never seen that dress. As he rounded the tailgate, he wondered if she’d worn that dress to church, would he have realized his romantic feelings for her?
He got behind the wheel and looked at her. “It’s Wednesday, and that means Italian night at Six Spurs. I don’t really want that, and you can’t really dance anyway.”
“Plus, you’re not Spur when it comes to a dance floor,” she teased.
“Hey,” Blaine said, putting the truck in reverse. “I know how to dance.”
“Yeah, but you’re at least…what? Fifth in the family as far as actual dance-power goes.”
“Dance-power?” he repeated. “Fifth?”
“Spur’s the best dancer,” she said.
“I think Trey’s better than Spur,” Blaine argued. “But go on.”
“I would’ve put Trey second,” Tam said. “Then Duke, because he’s got moves when the fast songs come on.”
“Oh, please,” Blaine said, though he was enjoying this conversation. “He watched a couple of YouTube videos on hip hop. He’s no dance-master.”
Tam pealed out a string of laughter that made Blaine’s heart feel ten times lighter. “Fair enough. But he’s still third. Cayden’s fourth. You’re fifth. Conrad can’t keep a beat to save his life, but he’s marginally better than Lawrence.”
“Ian’s last?” Blaine asked. “I thought he did a decent job at his wedding.” Out of the Chappell brothers, only Ian and Spur had been married. He and Trey had both been engaged once-upon-a-time. Spur was again for the second time, while everyone else remained single.
“That’s swaying back and forth,” Tam said. “That’s not actually dancing.”
“We’re not actually dancing tonight either,” Blaine said, glancing at her. “I was thinking of going to Cattleman’s.” He watched her for her reaction, something he could do on this relatively straight stretch of road.
Surprise flitted across her face, but it dissolved quickly. “Oh, I see what’s happening. You’re going to flash around some fancy diamond card or something.” She grinned at him, clearly teasing.
“I want good food tonight,” he said.
“Mindie’s is good.”
“We always go to Mindie’s,” he said, shifting in his seat. “It’s like, what we did as friends.” He kept his focus on the road, because he didn’t want to see Tam’s reaction this time.
“Ah, I see,” she said.
He wanted to ask her what she saw, but he decided to keep the question for now. They drove to the dealership on the outskirts of Lexington, which was also where Cattleman’s was. It was an expensive, upscale restaurant that served only grass-fed beef and farm-raised produce. The chef and owner had a twenty-acre farm west of the city where she sourced everything that went on her menu.
Blaine liked the food there, and he liked that he could support a local business and a Kentucky farm all at the same time.
In the lot at the dealership, about a dozen men worked near a whole fleet of new trucks. “Looks like you’re in luck,” he said. “They just got in new inventory.”
Tam laughed, and Blaine looked at her as he parked in one of the spots in front of the indoor showroom. She shook her head as he twisted to look at her. “What?”
“Those are sixty-thousand-dollar trucks, Blaine. They’re brand new.”
“Ah, I see.” He grinned at her, held up one palm, and got out to hurry around to help her out. She waited for him, which was a relief. He’d never bothered with opening her door for her when they were best friends, and as a rush of foolishness ran through him, he reminded himself that they were more than that now. He wanted to be more than that now.
“What can I help you folks find?” an older gentleman asked, his voice raspy and weathered.
Blaine smiled at the old-timer, recognizing him a moment later. “Darren?”
“Good to see you, Blaine.” The old man shook his hand, his grip just as strong as it had always been, despite his health issues.
“What are you doin’ here?” Blaine asked, his stomach painfully tight. “I thought you retired.”
“Just showin’ my son the ropes,” he said, and Blaine’s whole world started falling apart