Page 39 of Promise Me a Forever Texas Love

Only one thing stopped him . . .

Poppy’s warning.

Even if the thought of Cadee being with another man destroyed him, she deserved someone who wasn’t carrying around a U-Haul truck filled with baggage from his screwed-up childhood. She deserved a confident man who knew who he was and what he wanted. A man who was strong, steady, and reliable. Not a dreamer who never made one of his career schemes come to fruition.

As much as he wanted her, if he truly cared about her, he needed to let her go.

He pinned on a teasing smile. “Hey, Catydid. I knew you couldn’t stay away.”

A blush stained her cheeks. “So how did you get so much done so quickly?”

“I precut all the lumber in my daddy’s old workshop since I figured it would be hard to get power out here for my saw. Now all I need to do is put everything together.” He thought she’d be annoyed he’d been so confident he could talk her into a tree house, but instead her eyes softened.

“That’s why you didn’t show up last week.”

Had she missed him? Or had Camden? He couldn’t help wishing for both.

“Sorry, but between working on the tree house and work at Honky Tonk Heaven, I didn’t have much time left over.” He nodded at the basket she had hooked over her arm. “What’s in the basket? Did you go berry picking without me?”

“Berries are out of season. I brought you lunch. I figured you’d be starving since you never make it to noon before Henry the Hungry Bear starts grumbling.”

He didn’t know if it was her bringing him lunch or remembering the nickname she’d given his stomach that made his heart feel like it could rise up out of his chest and go sailing off into the sky. “So that’s why you always snuck me a granola bar during biology.”

“I didn’t want Henry disrupting the entire class and Mr. Pickett tossing your butt out.”

It was so Cadee. Always caring.

He smiled softly. “Thank you, Catydid. Not only for all those granola bars, but also for bringing me lunch. You want me to come down or do you want to come up?”

She glanced at the thick trunk of the solid oak tree he’d chosen. “And just how am I going to come up? Are there stairs I’m not seeing?”

“Not yet, but there is an elevator.” He stood and grabbed the rope he’d attached to a pulley. “Sit down on those two-by-fours and I’ll pull you up.”

She placed a hand on her hip. “You’re crazy as a loon, Huck Hennessy, if you think I’m going to climb onto loose boards and let you pull me up a good twenty feet in the air.”

“If I can pull up a load of heavy lumber and not drop a single board, I can pull you up.” He used a phrase he’d used a thousand times to get her to try something. “But if you’re too bawk-bawk . . .”

“I’m not a chicken!” She walked over to the bench he’d made of two-by-fours, ducked under the ropes, and sat cross-legged with the basket on her lap. “Pull away!”

She was much lighter than a load of lumber . . . and a lot more precious. When she was halfway up, he started thinking that maybe this was a bad idea. What if the rope broke? Or his suddenly sweaty hands slipped? Or she lost her balance?

“Huckleberry Hennessy! Stop trying to scare me!”

Her angry shouts snapped him out of his thoughts, and he realized he’d stopped pulling. He pushed down his fears and concentrated on getting her to the top and engaging the pulley lock so he could grab the basket and safely help her onto the platform.

Her scowl said she was madder than a wet hen. And he tried not to smile, but damned if he could keep from it when she looked so cute when she was angry. Her face got all scrunchy and her eyes snapped with blue fire. As kids, he’d loved to get her all riled up.

Obviously, he still did.

“You think you’re so funny!” She swatted him on the arm.

He might have laughed if a scent hadn’t surrounded him. It was Cadee’s normal scent of line-dried sheets and freshly baked cookies . . . but the cookies were much stronger. He filled his lungs with the cinnamon scent as he glanced down at the basket.

“Snickerdoodles? You made me snickerdoodles?”

“I didn’t make them for you. I made them for Cam. They’re his favorite too.”

He lifted his gaze and read the lie in her eyes. But he didn’t call her on it. Just like he didn’t call her on her lie of being willing to kiss any man with a mustache.