Changing the subject seemed to be a good idea. Maybe if we focused on something else, he’d stop running away from me.

“The tire’s going to take a week to get here,” he said flatly.

“A week?” I honestly didn’t care, but my surprise made my words come out sounding as if I were annoyed.

He blinked, then said deliberately, “It’s a specialized tire, so it’s taking extra time. I can put a rush on it if you need to get out of here sooner. I’ll go to town and pick it up or—”

He was shutting me out again; I could see it written all over his face, so I shook my head and interrupted him. “No. It’s okay. I was just surprised, but you know I’m not in any rush.”

Did he know I wasn’t in any rush?

Well, he did now.

• • •

After changing into my dark brown sundress that went perfectly with Mrs. Montgomery’s leather boots, I accessorized with some turquoise jewelry and was all set to go. When I stepped out of my room, I found Tatum waiting for me wearing a pair of dark blue jeans and a black sleeveless shirt. His arm muscles bulged with definition, and his baseball cap was on backward, covering his dark brown hair. He looked as hot as hell, and I wanted to meet the hell maker.

Tatum examined me from head to toe, hesitating on my legs for a moment, long enough for me to catch him doing it. I smiled, happy he liked what he saw, even if he’d never admit it.

We walked together toward his truck, then Tatum opened the door for me and Buster suddenly pushed me aside and tried to jump in. “No, Buster! Go lay down,” Tatum shouted, and Buster retreated toward the house. “Sorry about that.”

“It’s okay,” I said before hopping into the truck and tugging down the hem of my dress.

Tatum sat in the driver’s seat and cranked the ignition. The truck’s engine roared and he shifted into reverse. Before he let his foot off the brake, he turned to me, his fingers mere inches from my shoulder. “You look really pretty. The boots suit you.”

“Thanks. You look really nice too.” Our eyes locked for a moment before he looked out the back window.

The drive was painless, but quiet. Country music played softly on the radio as I took in my surroundings, constantly making little sounds of wonder when something new to me came into view, which was often.

Tatum pulled the truck onto a gravel drive and drove for what seemed like miles before we passed the first house. “Is this it?” I asked.

“That’s just their house. We’re heading out into the field. Still have a little ways to go yet.” Tatum smiled and continued staring ahead.

Eventually there was a break from the rows of crops where a plowed dirt field sat looking out of place. “Why is it,” I started to ask but didn’t know how to word my question. “Do things not grow out here? I’m confused.”

“They plow it for us to party on,” he said, as if it was the most natural answer on earth.

“You plow perfectly usable crop space away to party on?”

“Oh, Princess,” he said with a deep, throaty laugh. I loved the laugh but hated the nickname, so I frowned. “They aren’t using this part of the field, so they keep it plowed so we can come out here.”

“Okay,” I said with a shrug, still not really getting it, but accepting his answer all the same.

It was well before sunset and plenty of people were milling around with red plastic cups in their hands. Lifted trucks of all shapes and sizes sat parked in a circle, their tailgates down as country music blasted from someone’s speakers. A crowd was milling around one of the trucks, and I noticed there was a keg in the back of it.

“How do we see later? Or do we all just hang out in the dark together,” I asked, feeling like an idiot.

“Most of us turn on our headlights,” Tatum answered.

“Ah, gotcha.”

“In the winter we have bonfires. But not when it’s hot at night like this.”

“How do you guys keep the fire from burning up the nearby field?” I was slightly concerned with this situation.

Tatum smiled. A real, full-on, genuine smile, and I wanted to tell him to never stop doing that. My attraction doubled each time those lips curled upward. “The fire pit gets set up in a pile of dirt so there’s nothing for it to burn except the wood. And we always carry plenty of water in case things get out of hand. But we’ve been doing this for years. The fire burns itself out eventually.”

“You guys have never…not once…lit the town on fire?” I tilted my head and raised my eyebrows. “Or this farm?”

“Cross my heart.” His hands gestured across his chest and my eyes followed.

“So are you taking me around to meet everyone, or will they come to us? How does this work?”

“It’s a party, Paige. Everyone is gonna be pretty social. And seeing as how you’re a new girl and you’re with me, we’re going to draw plenty of attention tonight.” Worry lines deepened between his eyebrows as he turned his baseball cap around and pulled it low.

I looked up and noticed a group staring in our direction. “They’re already looking over here.”

“It’s not because of you,” he said, “at least not yet. I haven’t been out here in a couple years.”

“How come?”

“I just haven’t wanted to be around everyone since my dad died. I sort of felt like when I quit college, I’d let the whole town down,” he admitted, and my heart pinched for him.

“I’m sure that’s not true.”

“I’m not. You ready for this?” He gestured with his head toward the group now making their way toward us.

“Yep!” I answered with excitement in my voice.

And I honestly felt that way…at first. Then the group of people reached us. The guys shook hands with Tatum, saying things like “It’s been too long” and “Good to see you, man.” And before they asked him who I was, they all stopped and stared. Their eyebrows pulled together as they tried to figure out why I looked so familiar.

I started to shift my weight from foot to foot before the whispers kicked in, and I heard “Paige Lockwood” mentioned in every other breath. This was the sort of thing I was used to. Most people reacted this way when they saw me in public.

“Tatum, who’s your friend?” a guy with blond hair asked.

“Troy, this is my—” Tatum fumbled a little before recovering. “Paige. Paige, this is Troy.”

I extended my hand toward the guy, who brought it to his lips and kissed the top of it. Laughing, I pulled my hand back and shook my head.

“It’s nice to meet you, Paige.”

Tatum’s face reddened. “Knock it off, Troy,” he said, glaring at his buddy.

“What? I was just saying hi.” Troy lifted his hands, palms up in innocence, but Tatum looked genuinely upset.

“You okay with all this?” Tatum whispered in my ear as his hand settled possessively on the small of my back.

“Yeah. I’m fine,” I said, loving the way his hand felt.

“Are you Paige Lockwood?” Troy asked, and the crowd around us grew quiet.

I nodded instead of saying yes, and he promptly asked if we could take a picture together. He pulled out his phone and I leaned in toward him, my head resting against his as he took a selfie of us.

Tatum looked around at the group that was now chirping with excitement and squabbling about who was next to take a picture with me. “Okay, listen up. Paige got a flat tire and she’s staying in town with us until I get the damn thing fixed. All we ask is that you don’t post about her being here. Not on Twitter, or Facebook, or InstaStupid or whatever the hell else you kids are playing on these days.”

The crowd laughed and one of the guys hollered, calling him an old man as Tatum continued. “Please don’t ruin this for Paige. If you post about where she is, she’ll have to leave.”

He leaned toward me. “Do you care if they post the pictures after you’re gone?”

“Of course not,” I said.

Tatum pulled me close, then addressed the group again. “Feel free to post the pictures you take with her after she’s left town. But not before. I don’t want to have to kick anyone’s ass tonight,” he finished, looking me in the eye before planting a kiss on my cheek.