All I See Is You

2. Had Me At Heads Carolina

Chapter two

Had Me At Heads Carolina

Quinn

H oly God, Texas was hot. And humid.

I thought California was hot…but it was nothing like this. At least they believed in AC here. It blasted me in the face as I pulled up the navigation on my phone to get to my dad’s place.

It still didn’t make much sense to me why dad would move back here. My dad—the surf’s up, sunshine, and suntans epitome of a Southern California dude decided on moving to basically the cowboy capital of the world?

It didn’t make sense. Then again, nothing my dad ever did really made sense to me. Like this move. Or this engagement. Or this wedding. But it wasn’t my place to judge him or tell him what to do. He always did what he wanted anyways, regardless of how much or how little it made sense.

“Okay, so I found this little kiosk on my way back from the bathroom that had all of these little pamphlets on things to do in Thousand Trees. Did you know they have one of those safari wineries?” My best friend, Whit, said as she slid into the passenger’s seat of the rental.

I bit back a snort. “I didn’t know that, but that sounds fun.” I glanced over at her as I finished adjusting the mirrors to my liking. “You got everything?”

She nodded, smacking her backpack twice, a satisfied smirk on her nude lips. Leave it to Whit to look like a damn supermodel for a plane ride. She’d gotten her inspiration from some Tiktok influencer, and decided to call this her lazy girl travel fit … Only I’d hardly call having to spend close to an hour getting ready being lazy at all. “Yep. I’m telling you, you have to watch this Tiktok on how to pack a week’s worth of clothes into a carryon. It’s so convenient.”

I huffed a laugh as I pulled out of my parking spot and followed the navigation’s directions. “I mean, it’s a cool idea if you need to, but…you get a free checked bag with a plane ticket, might as well take advantage.”

Besides, I didn’t have the willpower or the patience to be the level of extra that Whit was. I loved her, and she was the most amazing, kind, and helpful person ever, but there was no doubt about it, she was extra AF.

“Do you know how many suitcases get lost every day in travel?” She scoffed, tossing her perfect, long bronde hair over her shoulders. And yes, bronde was a hair color. She would know, she was a hairdresser.

“And that’s what luggage tags are for,” I offered back with a conspiratory grin.

She rolled her eyes. “One day you’re going to need to pack a week’s worth of clothes into a backpack—”

“And when I do, I’ll make sure to come to you,” I laughed.

Another eye roll, but she grinned, settling herself more into the passenger’s seat. “So, how far is Thousand Trees from San Antonio?”

“Navigation says a bit over an hour.”

She nodded and started pressing buttons on the car’s screen, trying to find a music station, no doubt. “So, remind me again why your dad decided to rent in Texas of all places?”

I shrugged, my anxiety ramping up as I tried to get us onto the right freeway. “You know about as much as me, honestly. He tried to explain, but you know how he is. He talks like a mile a minute and never can finish a sentence, even if his life depended on it. He—”

“It’s all that espresso,” Whit cut in, pulling her sunglasses down to look at me.

I scoffed, a disbelieving laugh bubbling out of me. “What are you talking about?”

“It’s true! He’s gonna, like, overdose or something one day.”

I just laughed, not about to argue with Whit.

The truth was, my dad didn’t listen to anyone—least of all me. Besides, he was fifty-one years old. He could take care of himself. He had for years now since Mom died. I mean, most of that time he’d been a hot mess express, but weren’t we all…sort of?

“ Anyways ,” I said, pegging her with a pointed sunglasses stare. “From what I could make out of the situation, he and his fiancé are, like, renting the property for the next month leading up to the wedding…” My words tapered off in the end.

None of this really made any sense—his relationship with Georgette, the proposal, the ridiculously short engagement—but then again, trying to figure out what Dad was up to was impossible. He was a live-in-the-moment, fly-by-the-seat-of-his-pants kinda guy. What he wanted today might change in a day from now. Mom had helped temper him a bit. Helped even out his intensity and impulsivity. With her gone…

“Isn’t his fiancé, like, two years older than me?” Whit asked.

“Than you? yes. She's eight years older than me.”

But I tried not to think about that too much. My mom had been younger than my dad by a couple years, but nothing like this. There was a…twenty-one year age gap between the two of them. I mean, who was I to judge, but it was a little weird thinking that my future step mom could basically be my sister.

“You think he’ll have a kid with her?”

I gasped. “Oh my God, Whit! Stop!” My words held laughter in them, but it did little to hide the trickle of worry that sprung to life anytime I thought of this engagement. Was that why they were getting married so quickly? Oh God, please no. I couldn’t have a sibling that was young enough to be my kid. No. I just… Ew .

I hoped, prayed , that my dad was smart enough not to have a kid with her.

Whit gave me one of her sorry-not-sorry looks. “What, it could happen?”

“Next subject,” I demanded, even while urging a smile to my lips. “Like, I saw you flirting with that cowboy at the baggage claim.”

“Girl, don’t even get me started. I don’t know what it is about a cowboy hat and boots, but that guy looked so delicious I could eat him up.”

“Oh my God.” I laughed. “You’re too much.”

She shrugged, a devious little smirk lighting up her face. “No, what’s too much is how long you’ve gone not sleeping with someone. You and Devin broke up, what…like, five months ago?”

I bit back a groan, keeping my eyes forward instead of facing the weight of her scrutinizing stare. “It’s actually been six.”

Just the thought of Devin made me wither up and die a bit more inside. I’d been with him through most of college. Things had always been a bit of a struggle. He had no sense of responsibility and was quick to anger, but I could be indecisive and hated making waves or causing problems. It took two to have a relationship. I wouldn’t—couldn’t blame him fully for our breakup. Then add in the lack of intimacy, and, well, it was a miracle we’d lasted three years.

What made absolutely no sense, though, was that he had a new girlfriend in a week, after telling me that he needed to, quote un-quote, work on himself and his intimacy issues. Turned out that working on himself was just code for working on getting under someone else. They were engaged now, by the way. Yeah…I’d been convinced he was going to propose to me this past Christmas, but nope. I was probably—no, definitely better off for it, but he’d been my first adult relationship, and I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t still dealing with the emotional scars his relationship left.

“Six months? Quinnie, you give him too much power over you.”

I nodded, loosing a deep sigh. She was just preaching to the choir at this point. But I couldn’t help it. I hadn’t had any luck finding anyone worthwhile yet. And I didn’t like the idea of just casual dating. If I was gonna date someone, spend time with them, I wanted the potential for a future. That only seemed to scare guys off.

“That’s it!” She clapped her hands together, her words dripping with determination.

“Oh no,” I huffed. “Whatever you have planned, just…no.”

Her devilish grin was enough to make my nerves wind tighter. “We’re going to find you someone. A distraction. A rebound. A way to get your toes wet and back in the game.”

“I don’t need anyone. I’ve got that job starting next month at the new wedding venue. It’s all the distraction I need.”

“I’m not saying you should settle down, but testing the waters wouldn’t be so bad. Besides, these cowboys sure are yummy to look at. Bet they taste just as sweet.”

I rolled my eyes, even as a traitorous smile threatened to spread across my face.

T he entire drive to Thousand Trees, Whit tried to wear me down, bit by bit. She was tenacious, relentless, I’d give her that.

“Hey, mind stopping at this grocery store called H-E-B really quick?” she asked as we came into town. “I saw on—”

“Let me guess, Tiktok?” I grinned when she playfully smacked my shoulder.

“Actually, it was on my Reels!” She shot back, sticking her tongue out at me before continuing. “Apparently they have this peach tea that is, like, to die for!”

I shrugged. I didn’t mind stopping. I probably should pick up a bottle of wine or something as a congratulatory present for my dad’s engagement after all. Following the new navigation, we stopped in a spot and made our way toward the entrance to the grocery store.

I noticed a chocolate brown dog just outside the front of the store.

“Aw, I wonder if it’s lost,” Whit said as we passed by.

“I don’t think so.” It didn’t look lost. Its coat was shiny and it wore a collar—not that those necessarily determined if it was lost or not, but it was like the dog was waiting. No matter how many people walked by, it just sat there obediently. Someone had spent either a lot of time or a lot of money on training it—probably both.

The glacial blast of air that greeted me as I walked into the grocery store was a godsend. I swear, I’d only been out of the car for thirty seconds and I was already sweating. Whit had grabbed a cart and ambled up the first aisle. It would be a hot minute until she was ready—she never could go in for just one thing. Shopping with her was at least a half hour ordeal. And talking to her would only be another source of distraction, prolonging us even more.

Better to just leave her be.

I set out for the wine section, which was jutted up to the beer aisle. “Had Me At Heads Carolina” played over the speakers in the store and I couldn’t help but sing along. I was about as cowgirl as the white cowboy boots in my suitcase, which was basically not much at all. I didn't know the first thing about horses or riding or anything cowboy at all, but I sure loved Country music. And this song was catchy.

Swaying and singing softly, I moseyed my way up and down the aisle, trying to look for a wine my dad would like. He’d always been more of a beer guy, but during one of our phone calls a few weeks ago, he’d told me Georgette turned him onto wine—it was better for his heart and less calories than beer. Georgette’s words.

I managed to find a wine that would do. He probably wouldn’t know the difference between this and some two buck chuck, but whatever.

Now for a card.

I turned…and my heart stopped.

Ho-ly. God.

The guy standing before me in the middle of the aisle looked like he’d stepped off the set of Yellowstone or a modern day western—from the boots, to the dark wash Wranglers, a plain black t-shirt sheathing a cut, muscular build, and a light straw cowboy hat. He had wavy brown hair that brushed against his shoulders, and a good amount of scruff. I wasn’t normally into guys with longer hair, but, damn, he wore it well.

Whit was right. There was something about a cowboy hat and boots that just transformed a man into the ultimate version of sexy. The guy had a handsome face, though I wished I could see his eyes, which were covered by the Raybans he wore.

The words to the song died on my lips, a wave of pure, undiluted humiliation washing over me. Oh my God. How long had he been there? How much had he heard of my singing? Shit. Well, this was embarrassing. I opened my mouth to…to what?

I wanted to go hide under a rock.

A nervous laugh made its way up my throat. “H-hi,” I squeaked out, forcing an embarrassed smile on my lips.

But he didn’t smile. Didn’t even react at all. It’s almost like he was looking right through me.

Oh my God. Oh my God. Oh my God.

I did the only thing that made sense. Tucking a piece of hair behind my ear, I kept my gaze down and murmured out, “Sorry about that. Have a nice day.”

And then I walked away.

And not just walked, but like olympic power walked away. I was in such a frenzy, I almost forgot to pay for the stupid bottle of wine. It wasn’t until I’d gotten myself into the car that I really thought about the situation.

Maybe it wasn’t that bad? Maybe I was overreacting?

You ran away from him, Quinn.

Yeah…I hoped I didn’t bump into him again, or else I might just die of humiliation.