away freely. Nothing heartfelt.
Blowing out a quick breath, she shook herself of the
pain.
"The guy's an idiot."
With a roll of her eyes, she said, "He's a man.
Brock, you can't say that you haven't seen temptation
staring at you in the faces of all those women who have
been calling after you lately. You wouldn't be human
otherwise."
Brock shrugged. "It may be a different pretty face,
but its the same old thing."
"Oh, really?" she said, her voice dripping with sarcasm.
"Grant really soured you on men, didn't he?" Brock
said, leaning forward and resting his elbows on his
knees. She suddenly felt cold with his absence.
"Not all men."
"Just music men. Is that it? The blue suit variety of
men are just fine."
"Do you blame me?"
He turned to her but didn't say a word. Instead, he
shook his head, picked up some sand and tossed it
away.
"I don't want to make the same mistakes I made
before. I don't want to have any more regrets. Is it so
wrong of me not to want to share a man with every
woman in the world? I'm that selfish, you know. I don't
want to share the man I love. I want him all to myself."
"Sharing your man on stage and sharing him in your
life are two different things."
"How do you know that?"
"Because I do. I've seen it."
"Where?"
"My oldest brother was a famous bronc rider, Beau
Gentry. Have you ever heard of him?"
Josie's interest was piqued. "Yes, I have. Beau
Gentry is your brother?"
Brock nodded. "I never thought he'd show his face
back home, but he's there. He and Mandy, my sister-inlaw, take my niece to rodeos now, but years ago it was
just Beau. He used to tell me that even after all the women he'd met, he never stopped loving Mandy.
There was only one woman for him."
Envy crept through her veins. "That's beautiful."
"It's real. I don't see how it would be different for
you and me. Blue suit or not, I'm just a man who happens to want to make a living on the road and come
home to the same woman, no matter how many pretty
faces come to my door."
Her eyes widened. She wanted to believe him. Josie
wanted to think that Brock would be different. But
she'd already seen history repeating itself with the
other band members over the last week. Women were
everywhere, smiling and offering their time. And all the
men had their pick. Brock hadn't taken his pick and
part of her wanted to believe she was the reason.
"Brock-"
"No, let me finish. I know you're scared of being
hurt again. I can see that. But I don't want to let go of
what I've found in you."
"And what's that?"
"A true friend."
She sputtered with exaggerated disgust. "Oh, come
on, not an 'f word," she said, trying to keep her voice
light. Trying to keep from feeling all these amazing
things Brock made her feel when she was with him.
She was glad when he laughed at her slip.
"An 'f word?"
"You know, friend, flattered, fat. It's the three evil 'f
words every woman hates to hear when she's with a
man."
"You don't believe friendship is important in a relationship between a man and a woman?"
"Of course it is."
"I'd just like someone who sees me for what I am and
accept me for that. My parents weren't friends," he confided. "They were more like business partners, although
my brother, Cody, said there was a time when Mom and
Dad truly did love each other. I never saw it though."
"That's too bad. Are they still together?"
"Sadly, no. Mom died when I was fifteen." Brock
cleared his throat. "Come walk with me." He reached
for her hand and the blanket slid off her shoulders.
Brock quickly put it back in place and wrapped his arm
around her shoulder to keep it there. She felt good and
safe in Brock's arms, especially in the vast ocean of
uncertainty that had been plaguing her.
"Let's stay here and watch the sun come up over our
little sandcastle," Brock said, wrapping the blanket
around both of their shoulders and enveloping her with
his warmth.
It was a sweet thing to say and Josie couldn't
Blowing out a quick breath, she shook herself of the
pain.
"The guy's an idiot."
With a roll of her eyes, she said, "He's a man.
Brock, you can't say that you haven't seen temptation
staring at you in the faces of all those women who have
been calling after you lately. You wouldn't be human
otherwise."
Brock shrugged. "It may be a different pretty face,
but its the same old thing."
"Oh, really?" she said, her voice dripping with sarcasm.
"Grant really soured you on men, didn't he?" Brock
said, leaning forward and resting his elbows on his
knees. She suddenly felt cold with his absence.
"Not all men."
"Just music men. Is that it? The blue suit variety of
men are just fine."
"Do you blame me?"
He turned to her but didn't say a word. Instead, he
shook his head, picked up some sand and tossed it
away.
"I don't want to make the same mistakes I made
before. I don't want to have any more regrets. Is it so
wrong of me not to want to share a man with every
woman in the world? I'm that selfish, you know. I don't
want to share the man I love. I want him all to myself."
"Sharing your man on stage and sharing him in your
life are two different things."
"How do you know that?"
"Because I do. I've seen it."
"Where?"
"My oldest brother was a famous bronc rider, Beau
Gentry. Have you ever heard of him?"
Josie's interest was piqued. "Yes, I have. Beau
Gentry is your brother?"
Brock nodded. "I never thought he'd show his face
back home, but he's there. He and Mandy, my sister-inlaw, take my niece to rodeos now, but years ago it was
just Beau. He used to tell me that even after all the women he'd met, he never stopped loving Mandy.
There was only one woman for him."
Envy crept through her veins. "That's beautiful."
"It's real. I don't see how it would be different for
you and me. Blue suit or not, I'm just a man who happens to want to make a living on the road and come
home to the same woman, no matter how many pretty
faces come to my door."
Her eyes widened. She wanted to believe him. Josie
wanted to think that Brock would be different. But
she'd already seen history repeating itself with the
other band members over the last week. Women were
everywhere, smiling and offering their time. And all the
men had their pick. Brock hadn't taken his pick and
part of her wanted to believe she was the reason.
"Brock-"
"No, let me finish. I know you're scared of being
hurt again. I can see that. But I don't want to let go of
what I've found in you."
"And what's that?"
"A true friend."
She sputtered with exaggerated disgust. "Oh, come
on, not an 'f word," she said, trying to keep her voice
light. Trying to keep from feeling all these amazing
things Brock made her feel when she was with him.
She was glad when he laughed at her slip.
"An 'f word?"
"You know, friend, flattered, fat. It's the three evil 'f
words every woman hates to hear when she's with a
man."
"You don't believe friendship is important in a relationship between a man and a woman?"
"Of course it is."
"I'd just like someone who sees me for what I am and
accept me for that. My parents weren't friends," he confided. "They were more like business partners, although
my brother, Cody, said there was a time when Mom and
Dad truly did love each other. I never saw it though."
"That's too bad. Are they still together?"
"Sadly, no. Mom died when I was fifteen." Brock
cleared his throat. "Come walk with me." He reached
for her hand and the blanket slid off her shoulders.
Brock quickly put it back in place and wrapped his arm
around her shoulder to keep it there. She felt good and
safe in Brock's arms, especially in the vast ocean of
uncertainty that had been plaguing her.
"Let's stay here and watch the sun come up over our
little sandcastle," Brock said, wrapping the blanket
around both of their shoulders and enveloping her with
his warmth.
It was a sweet thing to say and Josie couldn't
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