“No rush.” She stood up, gathering her book and phone in the process. “I’m headed to book club.”
He kissed her hand again. “Be safe in the storm.”
She plopped her free hand on her hip. “Owen Mattox, I am a Texas woman—I can handle a summer rainstorm.”
He smiled. One strong gust of wind could carry her off to Arizona.
“Don’t look at me like I’m cute.”
He laughed. “Stop reading my mind.”
“Your mind is written all over your face.”
“You wish.” He pinched her sides and she danced and giggled away from him. He watched her leave, enjoying every last second of her around.
Kyle poked his head in the side door. “Is she gone?”
“Yeah, why?”
He came in, wearing a sleeveless workout shirt and shorts. “I’m going to lift and I didn’t want to show you up in front of your girl.”
Owen snorted. Whatever. “You’d need a tractor to out-lift me.”
“More like I’d need a tractor to lift you—you’re going soft.” Kyle put his fist under his chin and batted his eyelashes. “Oh, Bree, you’re so beautiful.”
Owen tore up the cushion Bree had been sitting on and launched it at Kyle. He ducked, but was cuffed in the shoulder.
“Your aim is off too.”
“I’ve got more cushions,” he threatened halfheartedly.
“How about you spot me instead?” Kyle adjusted the weights, removing several, before lying on the bench.
Owen stood behind his head, his hands at the ready.
“So, how is it in Love Land?” Kyle’s face splotched with color as he benched.
“Great—except she wants me to meet her mom.”
Grunt. “You met my mom.”
“Your mom likes me.”
“Because shemetyou.”
“I need more time.”
“What you mean is you want her to be far enough in love with you that if she had to pick between you and her mom, she’d pick you.”
Owen contemplated adding weight to the bar and seeing if Kyle was so smart when he had an extra fifty pounds to lift.
“You’re going to have to meet her sooner or later.”
“Later, then.” Definitely later. How long could he put Bree off for? Hopefully long enough that they could build a solid foundation. He didn’t know her mother. She could be a wonderful lady, but he did know there was no more destructive force than a family bent on keeping two people apart.
Chapter Twenty
“What do you think of this one?” Bree held up the blue floral-print dress and examined it with a critical eye. Normally she stuck to solid colors and avoided prints. Life was just easier that way. And boring. Women who rode motorcycles with pro football players were not boring.