Page 45 of No Cap

But today was different.

Today, I was heading to my parents, and I fully expected Quincy to not remember.

Only, he did remember.

As I walked out of my building, carrying the first load of presents, I was looking around and wondering if he was there.

When I didn’t see him, I felt a modicum of hurt.

He hadn’t remembered.

Except, I hadn’t given him enough credit.

When I got to my car, I saw him leaning on it.

His gaze landed on me, his eyes taking in every inch of my body before slowly uncrossing his legs from his lean on my car.

Today he was wearing some Wrangler jeans that were lighter in color, and when I say they fit him like they were meant to, I mean that even the old lady pushing a shopping cart full of cans did a double take at the way his ass fit in those jeans.

Since I’d only gotten the front view, with the blatantly in your face belt buckle, I was slightly disappointed.

But the way she gave me a thumbs up told me it was a good view.

On his top half he was wearing a faded blue jean button-down in a darker shade than his jeans, but not by much. His boots weren’t the same fancy ones as the other day, either. They were well worn in and looked like they’d just come straight from the dirt.

The cowboy hat was also on his head again, blocking his beautiful hair.

The beard was a little bit more unkempt, too, and I wondered if he’d stopped doing some sort of work outside to come over and spend the day with me.

“Uhh,” I said. “What are you doing here?”

He pulled off his hat, and his messy hair came into view.

“What do you mean?” he asked. “You and I had an agreement that I’d come.”

I snorted. “I thought that agreement was null and void after you followed me around like a common criminal all week.”

His lips twitched. “I was following you around because I wanted to see you, Hollis. Not because I’m a criminal.”

“Not you being a criminal. Me being the criminal,” I admitted.

“You’re not a criminal…” he paused. “At least, I don’t think you are.”

Oh, how naïve the man was.

“Sure,” I said. “But I don’t believe that you wanted to see me.”

He placed his hat back on his head.

Then jerked his chin at the car. “You’re going to your parents’ place?”

“Yes,” I answered warily.

“Cool. Can I drive?” he jerked his hand toward his car.

“I, uh, have to go back upstairs and get the rest of the presents,” I admitted, quickly stuffing my presents into my car when I didn’t see his truck anywhere near. “But I need to drive myself because my trunk is full of enough laundry for two weeks. I have to get it done.”

He nodded, then fell into step beside me.