Page 29 of A Montana Rodeo Star

She sobered, her gaze turning curious. “And is there something you want to do that they wouldn’t agree with?”

Well, this was not what he’d been expecting when he’d invited her to dinner. He hadn’t thought it was possible for his throat to close up or feel like it had been filled with premixed concrete. He hadn’t expected his palms to go so clammy that he could have primed a slip-and-slide. Up until this very second, he hadn’t thought it was possible for his priorities to shift from his dream career to a woman of all things.

He blinked at her, heat flushing his body uncomfortably. Then he cleared his throat. “No, I don’t suppose I do.”

It was probably all in his imagination that he’d seen her shoulders slump with disappointment. Because they’d both been clear about what could and couldn’t happen between them. It was smart. And he wasn’t going back on it no matter how much he might be inclined to do so.

Brent flashed her a smile. “Burgers, then?”

She gave him a sharp nod.

About thirty minutes later, they were both seated in the back of his truck, legs dangling from the tailgate as they munched on their food. He’d brought them back to her place. It had been the right thing to do. Eating off-site had felt far too much like a date—a date he’d want to hide from his friends. At least this way they could spend time together out in the open where her brothers could see with their own eyes that nothing was happening.

“It’s true. She’d kill me if I said anything, though.” Faith’s eyes twinkled with mischief. “Pretty sure Lydia thought she was in love with him. But your brother never gave her a second look.”

Brent grimaced. “That probably had a lot to do with who her brothers were, to be honest.”

She sighed. “Yeah, I figured. Tate and Jason have a knack for scaring off any potential suitors.”

He practically choked on his food then laughed. “Suitors? Seriously? What century are you living in?”

Faith scowled at him, bumping her shoulder hard enough into him that he had to put a hand down to steady himself. “Don’t make fun of me. I can want a suitor if I so choose.”

Brent snickered again. “What I don’t get is why your brothers are the gatekeepers. What about your folks?”

“They’re always traveling. They gave us this house and property and they picked up and went on an adventure the first chance they got.”

“Huh. I didn’t know that.”

She shrugged. “They come home often enough, but let’s just say they think we girls can live our lives the way we want to. It’s just my brothers who think otherwise.”

“I hate to break this to you, but your brothers are probably the reason you haven’t had to deal with a certain sort of person.”

Cocking a brow, she brushed off the salt from her fingers. She chewed on a fry for a moment then swallowed. “A certain sort of person? Meaning?”

He shrugged. “The kind of guy who doesn’t listen when a girl says no. The kind of guy who won’t provide for the woman he loves. You know. Those kinds of guys.”

A small smile touched her lips, and he smiled right back. Then her eyes dipped to his mouth and his breath stalled in his lungs. He knew that look. He recognized it because he’d given her a similar one.

She wanted to kiss him.

Not a good idea.

And yet as she leaned closer to him, her eyes trained on his mouth, he couldn’t bring himself to pull back, to remind her that they were just friends.

Then Faith lifted her hand and dragged her thumb along the corner of his mouth. “You had a little something…” she whispered holding up her thumb to show him the ketchup she’d wiped clean. She grabbed a napkin and offered him a small smile then she gathered up her garbage and hopped down from the truck. “Thanks for lunch, Brent. Next time it’s my treat.”

Faith left him like that, staring after her. His brain was foggy. He couldn’t remember what they’d been discussing right before she’d touched him. And it wasn’t until he heard the bark of his name that he was able to come out of his stupor.

“What do you think you’re doing, Brent?”

Head snapping around, Brent came face to face with two men. Tate and Jason eyed him with suspicion. How much had they seen? Heard?

Brent blew out a breath and released a strangled chuckle. “Nothing⁠—”

“Sure didn’t look like nothing,” Tate drawled, his arms folded and his forearms flexing. “Did it look like nothing to you, Jason?”

His brother shook his head.