I snort while shaking my head. “You’re nuts.”

“Maybe, but I have an idea . . . let’s grab some food and go out for a bit. It’s your first night in Bell Buckle and our first date.”

I shake my head and let out a sigh. “A date?”

“Yeah.” He pushes me back a little and gives me a smile that makes me want to set my panties on fire. “I’m takin’ you out on a date. So, go get yourself ready.”

This is the deal. I’m here so we can date and get to know each other. I have to be smart, though. I’m not staying here more than three months, so there’s no point in letting my heart get tangled up with his.

I have to guard myself. Because Wyatt is funny, sexy, smart, and it would be easy to fall for him. It was effortless when I allowed myself to sleep with him the first time. Then it was damn near impossible to stay away after that. The truth is . . . I like him. He’s a good guy.

Which is a bad thing for me.

I peek at him from beneath my lashes. “You don’t have to take me on a date.”

Wyatt’s finger lifts my chin as he studies my face. “I do. But more than that, I want to.”

“Oh,” I say as my eyes drift to his lips.

“Angie,” he says softly.

“Yeah?”

“What is the rule for kissing?”

I’m not sure what he’s asking. Something about rules and lips touching, but when his hands are on me, I go stupid. “Kissing is good.”

He doesn’t say another word. His lips press against mine and my brain shuts down. My fingers grip his shirt, holding him to me as his arms enclose around me. Kissing him is a full-body experience. I feel it all the way from my head to my toes. All I want to do is kiss him forever. His tongue glides against mine, and I moan. This is an otherworldly type of kiss. The kind that little girls dream of that makes everything else disappear.

It’s everything I remember.

Our tongues move in harmony, and his hands hold me exactly where he wants me. I don’t care, though. I wouldn’t think of moving away from him when his mouth is on mine. His lips are firm and his tongue demands access to every inch of my mouth. I lose all track of time as he kisses me as if I’m his reason for living. He’s in complete control of me right now, and that’s not a good thing, but I can’t find the wherewithal to stop him.

All too soon, he pulls back. “Kissing is very good. Kissing you is fucking unreal.”

I’m a fool. My rules are a joke. Kissing is going to lead very quickly to something else. I have to put a stop to it even though I want to do nothing but kiss him.

“Yeah.” I retreat a few steps and try to catch my breath. “Kissing is now one of my rules. No more kissing. Kissing is off limits.” I have to punctuate this so he knows I’m serious.

Wyatt’s eyes blaze as he stares at me. He steps toward me with purpose. “You think so?” His body moves closer, his voice turns deep, and sultry, and his eyes become soft. “You’ll be in my bed every night. You think you can keep your hands and lips to yourself?”

“Yup.”

He grins and nods. “If you say so. I love a challenge.”

I lean in close to his ear. “I can control myself.”

Wyatt lets out a low sound from his chest as he grips my shoulders. I lean back and see the desire in his eyes, but I see the restraint as well. “We’ll see about that.” He releases me and taps my nose.

“I’LL HAVE A JACK AND Coke, and she’ll have . . .” Wyatt trails off.

“A Sprite.”

The bartender nods, and we grab seats at the bar. For our first date, he took my pregnant ass to the bar. Because that’s completely romantic, and why not rub it in my face a little more that I can’t drink?

Smooth. Real smooth.

Last time I was here, I ended up going back to his house and . . . well . . . got quite the souvenir.

I look around as we wait for the bartender to return with our order. The dance floor is packed. Some people are spinning around the outside, and others are line dancing in the middle. Lots of girls stand off to the sides, watching and waiting for a guy to walk past. I laugh as they all get a little straighter and puff their already visible cleavage to be more prominent. I wonder how many of these girls have slept with Wyatt.

After what Presley said, I would guess all of them.

He’s known for being a bit of a slut, which never bothered me before. I’m clearly no angel, but I can’t deny the touch of jealousy I have now. It’s insane, but again, I blame the hormones. I also make a note to change the sheets on his bed and possibly burn the mattress. I can only imagine the shit that’s gone down in that house. Hell, I know what we did, and if it’s that times some unknown quantity . . .

Eww. Gross.

“You okay?” he asks while wrapping his arm around my shoulder.

“Yup. Just looking around.”

His eyes travel my sightline, and he stiffens. It’s subtle, but I notice it. “I know you’ve heard a lot of shit.”

“You don’t need—”

“I do. I’m going to say this one time.” He glances at them and then back to me. “I’ll never bullshit you. If you ask me, I’ll tell you anything you want to know. I’ll tell you this: no one has ever stayed the night in my bed. I’ve never even brought one of them back to my house. You’re the only woman who I’ve had in my bed. Ever.”

My eyes go wide at his admission. I’m stunned. He owes me nothing, but he gave me more in that one admission than he probably realizes. He confirmed what I was worried about but soothed it away in the same breath. He also confused me a bit more. Why me? Why has he never brought a girl to his bed? Why the hell me?

“Angie!” Presley yells, stopping me from asking any one of the questions tumbling through my mind. “You’re here!”

“I am.” I try to smile but fail. I’m still in shock as Wyatt continues to stare at me.

“Stop looking like that.” She chides and pulls me in for a hug. “Your face will freeze.”

I’m sure she thinks my lack of enthusiasm is because I’m here, but it’s because his words are still penetrating. I tear my gaze away from him and try to process. Does that mean there was more that time than just sex? That’s crazy because he doesn’t know me. We’ve only spent a small amount of time together, and most of it was spent screwing.

Could there be something?

I glance back at Wyatt as he heads to the other end of the bar where Zach stands. “Sorry, I’m just . . .”

“Settling?” Pres fills in for me.

“You could say that. I’m definitely not in Philly anymore.”

Presley’s face says she understands it all too well. “I wish I could say something other than I’m sorry. I know you miss home.”

Grace, her best friend from grade school, comes over and hugs me. “We’ll grow on you, honey. Plus, we all love babies.”

That snaps me out of it. “Does everyone know?” I gasp, raking my eyes around the bar, catching several people trying to be inconspicuous as they watch me.

Presley’s lips form a thin line, and she shrugs, letting me know the answer is yes. “There are no secrets in a small town.”