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She grins and buckles her seatbelt.

“No can do, buckeroo. Besides, you’re kinda hot when you’re awkward.”

“I’m not awkward.”

“That’s what makes it hot.”

I start the truck, muttering a curse under my breath, and slam it into reverse.

She’s got no idea what she just stepped into.

But damn if I’m not already burning for more.

CHAPTER THREE-CASEY

Okay.

Three seconds in the company of the stupid hot cowboy and I’m suddenly auditioning to be the next Marvel snark queen.

So, no, I wasn’t expecting Zeke to pick me up. And, yes, my foolish heart started pounding the second I spied him.

But where are these one-liners even coming from?

What the heck is wrong with me?

Sigh. Do I even need to answer that?

Let’s take stock.

I’m a chubby almost-doctor pretending to be a school nurse while hiding from my unhinged ex-boyfriend, who just so happens to be a literal gangster with mafia ties and a warped sense of ownership when it comes to me.

So, yeah. I’m in absolutely zero position to be swooning over the man who just pulled up in a growly black pickup like he walked straight out of my favorite enemies-to-lovers Pinterest board.

And yet.

There he is.

Zeke Gordon.

All six-foot-forever of glowering, brooding cowboy gorgeousness.

Still, just as unfairly hot as the night we danced.

Still giving off touch me and perish energy that makes my thighs clench, and my sanity evaporate.

He’s standing right there, leaning against the truck, arms crossed over his broad chest like he’s guarding the last piece of chocolate cake on Earth.

I peek at him through my eyelashes, heart thudding against my ribs like it’s trying to stage a prison break.

Breathe, Casey. Breathe.

We danced at Avery’s wedding. Just one dance. One magical, heart-shaking, knee-weakening moment.

And then he never called.

Never came by.

Never anythinged.