I went around and opened the door of the truck for her, and immediately started second-guessing my plan. I also regretted calling it a chariot.

The bench seat she got in on had duct tape over the cracks in the leather. Damn. I should have put a blanket down on it. Even clean, the inside of my truck smelled like gasoline and oil. I never really noticed it before, but I was noticing it now.

I pulled out of the driveway, overthinking everything.

I couldn’t give two shits what any of my last girlfriends thought about my truck, but Alexis was too fancy for this. Even out of the cocktail dress and heels, she was too fancy.

It was in everything about her. She was so polished. The clothes she wore for Hunter to jump on looked like they’d never been worn before. The denim was too dark to have been washed even once. Diamond earrings, perfectly painted fingernails. Even the duffel bag she brought was a brand name so far out of my reach, I couldn’t even afford it at a yard sale.

Once, a cardinal flew down into the chimney in the living room, and I remembered how startling it had been to see this beautiful, bright red bird perched in the ashes. It was just like this. The ruin of my shitty Ford just highlighted the contrast, how out of place she was.

Women like Alexis didn’t live in ashes. They didn’t live in small towns in the middle of nowhere where you couldn’t get a damn steak in the off- season. They didn’t ride around in tired work trucks and hold hands with

men who had calluses. They lived in big cities with accomplished men who had important jobs.

I stared at the road, feeling for the first time in my life like I wished I was the kind of man who owned a tie—or a nicer car.

She must have been thinking the same thing, because she put a finger to the hole where the radio dial used to be. “I’ve never been in a truck before.”

I glanced at her. “You’ve never been in a truck? Ever?” She shook her head.

“Well, you’re gonna love the tractor ride later.”

She laughed, and I felt a little better. At least she thought I was funny. “So where are we going?” she asked.

“It’s a surprise.”

I slowed down and turned onto the dark, unpaved, wooded road to our destination, and she sat up a little straighter. Then she saw the sign illuminated at the entry of the lot, and she broke out into a dazzling smile. “A drive-in?”

I grinned. “I got Brian to open it just for us.”

“I’ve never been to one,” she said, almost in awe. She beamed at me, and all my reservations about the night slipped away.

“You’ve never been to a drive-in?”

“No. We never really did this kind of stuff growing up.”

I pulled into the lot and parked us with the bed of the truck facing the screen.

“What kind of stuff did you do?” I asked, putting us in park. “Not stuff like this,” she said.

I guess that tracked. She didn’t really strike me as a swimming-hole, pinball-machine-in-the-pharmacy-during-the-summer kind of woman. But I

liked that I was giving her an experience she’d never had. It somehow seemed impossible that I could.

“Stay here for a second while I set us up,” I said.

I jumped out of the truck and went to the bed. I blew up a twin-size air mattress and covered it with a thick, red, patterned Aztec blanket. I’d brought some heavy blankets and pillows and propped them against the back window so we had something to lean on. I lit a citronella candle for the one or two mosquitoes that might be out this time of year and put it on the roof. Then I plugged in some white Christmas lights to a portable power inverter and ran those along the sides to give us some light to eat by. When I was done, I went to get her.

I opened her door for her. “All ready.”

She hopped out and came around the back. “Oh wow,” she said when she saw it, smiling.

I helped her up and climbed in after her. Then I grabbed the picnic basket Doug dropped off and started pulling things out.

Doug had outdone himself. There was homemade goat cheese with sliced pears drizzled in honey, dried fruits, bruschetta sandwiches on his fresh baked crusty bread that he made himself with his own sourdough starter, two thermoses with hot chocolate in them—Doug was a lot of things. But when it came down to it, he was a very, very good friend.

Annnd I think he was trying to make up for the pig.

She watched me set it all up. But when I handed her her thermos, I noticed she looked a little serious.

“What’s wrong?”

She shook her head. “This is all so nice.” I sensed a “but” coming.

“But I feel like I do have to remind you that I’m really not looking to date right now. You didn’t have to make such a big deal about me coming,” she said.

I stopped what I was doing. “Okay. We need to clear something up,” I said, looking her in the eye. “When you come down—no matter what you come down for—I’m going to make a big deal over it. Because it is a big deal. You’re driving four hours, round-trip, to be here. That’s not nothing. And if you’re staying the night, this isn’t going to be a quickie situation. While I’d like to say that I could spend all twelve hours of your stay pleasuring you, I can’t.”

She laughed.

“We’re going to do other things,” I said, going on. “We’re going to eat, and we’re going to hang out. And I’m going to put effort into that because you’re putting in effort to be here. And it’s going to be like that every time. Okay?”

The corner of her lip twitched. “Okay.” I smiled.

Part of this was my hospitality background and my upbringing. It was in my blood. I was raised to cater to the needs of tourists. My life and the lives of everyone in this town were dependent upon people enjoying themselves while in Wakan. But the other part was something else.

I liked her.

I wanted her to like coming here, because I wanted her to come back. I knew the second I saw her pull into my driveway that this couldn’t be the last time.

If all she wanted was sex for now, it could be just sex. I preferred sex with someone I liked and looked forward to seeing. This worked for me.

But there was a connection. I’d sensed it before, and it was the same now. I couldn’t explain it. I didn’t know if it meant anything or if it would lead to something else. Probably not, all things considered. All I knew for sure was that she needed to come back.

“What are we watching?” she asked, sitting with her legs crossed under her.

“We can pick. Here are the options,” I said, swiping open my phone to read the text Brian sent. “Okay, we’ve got Gremlins, Pretty Woman, Breakfast Club, Princess Bride—”

“Princess Bride,” she said quickly. “As you wish.”

She smiled, and I shot a text to Brian, who was waiting in the projection room above the closed snack bar. A moment later the movie flickered to life.

A message came up on the massive screen:

He must really like you. He begged me to do this. Enjoy the show.

Alexis laughed.

Fucking Brian. I felt my cheeks heat. I was grateful for the dim lighting. “You begged him, huh?” She smiled.

“He didn’t fold until I cried.”

She shook her head, still laughing.

The screen went into a pre–movie reel. Silent ads for places in town that were closed until June.

Black bugs zipped around in front of the screen. “What are those?” she asked, nodding at them.

“Dragonflies,” I said, wiping my hands on a napkin. “Though it’s a little early for them. It’s been kind of warm this spring.”

She squinted at them. “There’s so many.”

I leaned back on my hands. “My grandma used to say that dragonflies mean change is coming.”

She went quiet for a moment. “Must be a lot of change.” “It must.”

I kept glancing at her while we ate in the white glow.

She was so beautiful. I couldn’t believe I’d gotten her to come back here.

Made me a little proud of my sex skills.

“Does Brian own the drive-in?” she asked, eating a dried apricot. I nodded. “That and the grocery store.”

“And you’re the mayor, and you run a bed-and-breakfast?”

“We all wear multiple hats around here. Liz works at the VFW and waits on tables at Jane’s three days a week. Doug does odd jobs. And the mayor thing really isn’t a big deal. It’s mostly town hall meetings.”

“For what?”

I snorted, picking up a cracker. “For me to resolve petty squabbles.” “Like?”

I chewed and swallowed. “Well, like telling the Lutsens they can’t have chickens on the roof of the barbershop because the feathers are blowing into the candy store across the street. Barking dog complaints, judging the butter carving contest in Doug’s barn on Halloween. You know, important stuff like that.”

She laughed.

I took a sip of hot chocolate. “So are you going to tell me what you do for a living?”

She gave me hooded eyes. “I mean, isn’t it more fun if I’m mysterious?” “I think it’s more fun if I get to know you.”

She twisted her lips.

She didn’t want to tell me.

“Is there something nefarious you think I’m going to do with this information?” I teased.

She tucked her hair behind her ear. “I’m in the family business.” “Which is…”

“How about I give you three guesses.”

I smiled. “Okay. And what do I get if I guess right?” She arched a playful eyebrow. “What do you want?” “I want you to come back next weekend.”

She gave me an amused smile. “Okay,” she said. “You have a deal.” I rubbed my hands together. “Do I get any questions before I guess?” She shook her head. “Nope. You have to go in cold.”

Crap. This was going to be hard. I tried to think of the little I knew about her. She was polished and elegant. Smart. My guess was a white-collar job. She obviously came from money, so she probably made a lot, whatever she did.

“A lawyer,” I said.

She tilted her head. “Do I seem like someone who negotiates for a living?”

“You hustled Doug,” I pointed out. She laughed. “No. Not a lawyer.” “CEO.”

“Nope.”

“Damn,” I whispered.

“That’s two,” she said, smiling. “One more.” I pursed my lips.

“Banking?”

She shook her head. “No.”

I puffed air into my cheeks. “So what are my chances of getting you to come down next weekend anyway?” I gave her a raised eyebrow.

“Not good.”

“So you’re saying there’s a chance…”

She laughed at the movie screen. “Let’s just see how tonight goes.”

We finished the food right as the movie started, and I put everything in the picnic basket and pulled out a blanket so we could lie down. I was glad it was a little cold, because she needed me for warmth. She scooted over and let me put an arm around her. She snuggled into the crook of my elbow, and it was so familiar and comfortable I had to remind myself this was only the second time we’d been together.

And damn, she smelled good. It was intoxicating. I didn’t even want to watch the movie, I just wanted to put my nose to her neck, and I knew if I did, both of us would end up with hickeys again before we drove out of here.

I tried to behave myself and watch the show, but I got the sense her attention wasn’t faring much better. I made a mental note to take her upstairs before taking her out next time. Neither of us could focus.

Westley was sword fighting Inigo Montoya when I glanced down at Alexis again. But she wasn’t looking at the screen. She was looking at the sky.

She noticed me and turned so her lips were an inch from mine. “I don’t remember the last time I looked at stars,” she said quietly. “Maybe never. It’s so peaceful here.”

“We don’t have the light pollution,” I said. “The stars are always really nice in Wakan.”

I dropped my eyes to her mouth.

She cleared her throat and looked down at the arm I had lying across my stomach. “Tell me about your tattoos.”

I held up my arm to show her. “It’s roses on both sides.” “Why?”

“These are the flowers from the banister on the stairs. They were one of the first things I remember as a kid. One of my favorite things in the house. And Grandpa always brought Grandma roses.”

She traced a finger over a petal, and I watched her. I felt my heart picking up just from this tiny contact, like even this minor attention from her was enough to put my body on alert. When she got to my wrist, I threaded my fingers in hers. She closed her hand around mine and I smiled.

Maybe women like this did hold hands with men with calluses…

She tipped her head up again to look at me. “Why don’t you have a girlfriend?” she asked.

“What?”

“You’re sweet. You’re thoughtful. You’re not hard to look at, and the sex is…why don’t you have one?”

“The sex is what?” I beamed.

She propped herself on her elbow, our hands still clasped between us. “Well?”

I propped myself too. “I was seeing someone up until a few months ago.

It wasn’t serious.”

“Why wasn’t it serious?” she asked.

I shrugged. “I don’t know. I just couldn’t ever see her past a day I guess.”

“What does that mean?”

“I never envisioned her in the future. I only ever wanted to see her the day I wanted to see her. You know how when you like someone, you want

to make plans with them? I never wanted to make plans with her.” “But you want to make plans with me next weekend, huh?”

I grinned. “Busted.”

She laughed. “I get that whole day thing,” she said. “At the end I couldn’t even see my ex past a minute.”

“Oh yeah? What was he like?”

She gave me a one-shoulder shrug. “Arrogant. A surgeon.”

I felt myself deflate. So I’d been right about the kind of men she liked.

Educated. Accomplished.

The opposite of me.

Surgeon. Maybe that’s what she did for a living? “Are you a surgeon?” I asked.

Her smile fell a little. “That’s four guesses. But no.”

There was something a little tight about the way she said no. I didn’t know how to respond, so I did the only thing I could think of to fill the silence. I leaned forward and kissed her.

Turns out, it was the right move.

I’d had chemistry with other women, but I’d never experienced animal magnetism before. It’s the kind of thing that’s unmistakable when it’s happening—and it happened with her. The same as last time, only stronger. The sexual tension between the two of us was like a sunflower turned to the sky. I’d felt it even when she was gone, I realized. Like my body was looking for her even though I didn’t know where she was. It was a shift in gravity. Two bodies in a hammock, or an old mattress that dips in the middle. I could feel us rolling toward each other.

It’s the kind of pull that’s easier to give in to than it is to get out of.