CHAPTER ONE
I COULDN’T COME up with something like this in
a daydream. Seeing a guy this good- looking parked
in my driveway, leaning back against his rumbling
pickup, holding a wildflower for me? Unreal.
I stepped down the sidewalk toward him, readier
than ever for our date. For this new beginning.
He pushed of his truck and walked to meet me
halfway. “Hey, good-lookin’.”
“Hey, Damon.” I took in the clean skin of his jaw,
the exciting way his green eyes danced. They didn’t
need the sun to catch any light. My face could have
been replaced with a heart-eye emoji, and it probably
wouldn’t have looked any different. “So...”
He grinned and handed me the flower. “This is
for you.”
I held the thin stem between my fingers. “Should
I bring it inside?”
“Nah, come on.” He walked around to his side of
the pickup, and I went to the passenger door. I knew
most guys didn’t open doors, but I still felt a little
disappointed as I gazed up at the seat in the lifted
truck. I had to hang on to the handle and lift my leg
way up to pull myself into the cab. A little help
might have been nice.
Once I got inside, though, I totally forgot any
disappointment I’d been feeling. The cab smelled
great—like leather and hay—and with Damon grinning over at me, I couldn’t complain.
I set my flower on the dash and buckled up.
He pulled out of the driveway, steering with one
hand on the wheel in that confident way only
country kids did—like he’d been driving since before
he knew how to do long division. “So, you ever been
to a rodeo before?”
“Once,” I admitted. “But I don’t remember
much.”
“Okay, city slicker,” he teased. “I’ll getcha up to
speed.”
I made my eyes wide. “Promise?”
He bit his bottom lip and looked me up and
down. “Definitely.”
That look sent shockwaves right to my gut and
famed my cheeks. I gazed out my window. “Good.”
He chuckled under his breath. “You’re cute.”
That had me staring back at him. “Yeah?”
A grin laced his full lips. “Uh huh.”
My lips spread without asking my permission.
“Thanks.”
The houses flying by outside my window
thinned, and we pulled up to an outdoor arena
surrounded by vehicles and livestock trailers. As we
drove into the grass parking lot, I watched people
leading horses around, guys sitting on the fence talk‐
ing, and people fInding seats in metal stands.
Damon slowed the pickup and backed into an
empty spot along the arena fence. “Front row seats.”
He hopped out, and I followed him around the
back of the pickup. He dropped the tailgate, then
hopped up easily, and I hated to admit that I was
looking at his backside for way too long. Whatever
magic they sewed into Wranglers was working
for him.
Gross. Did I just think that? My cheeks heated.
What was going on with me? But really, those pants.
Damon set up a couple of camping chairs in the
bed and scooted a cooler between them like a little
table. “How’s it look?”
I grinned at the setup. “Not bad.”
He looked it over and hopped down from the
pickup, landing lightly, even in his cowboy boots.
“Let me help you up.”
Considering the tailgate was at least three and a
half feet of the ground, I felt thankful for his
thoughtfulness. But... “I’m not sure you can lift me. I
can get up there.”
He rolled his eyes. “If I can take on a fIfteen-
hundred-pound horse, I think I can handle you.” The
muscles on his arms backed him up.
My stomach swooped at the thought. “Okay.”
He looped his hands a couple feet of the ground,
and I stepped into his makeshift stirrup with my
good leg. I rested my hand on his shoulder—his
shoulder that rippled powerfully under my touch—
and he lifted me up so easily I might have been on an
escalator.
I turned around on the tailgate and smiled down
at him. “Thanks.”
His phone dinged in his pocket, and he looked at
the screen. “Hey, you mind if I go and say hi to Rhett
and Vox real quick?”
Yes, I mind. “No, that’s fIne.”
He grinned like I’d passed some sort of test.
“You’re the best. Be right back.”
Damon walked toward the spot about fIfty yards
down the arena fence where a bunch of guys were
sitting, and I couldn’t help the sinking feeling that hit
my stomach. Was I being clingy for wanting him to
spend time with just me on our first date?
I shoved the thoughts aside and settled into one
of the chairs. After making sure the bed was decently
clean, I set my purse beside me. This really was a
nice date—even though it was late May, it wasn’t too
terribly hot, and I could imagine a sunset out here
would be beautiful. Plus, this whole camper chair
and cooler setup was adorable.
I opened the cooler and saw it was full of ice and
different drinks. I plucked up a blue Gatorade, took a
sip, and stuck it in the chair’s cupholder.
Now what?
Damon wasn’t walking toward me yet, so I
pulled out my phone and checked my messages.
I gasped at what Andrew sent me.
