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Without looking in her direction, John slid his hand down the inside of her arm and laced his fingers with hers, finishing with a light squeeze. She wasn’t expecting it, but she liked the show of possessiveness he displayed in doing so.

“Johnny boy,” Jace drawled, handing him a beer and Alyssa the other.

“Jace, you fucker. What have I told you about that?” he tipped the beer back giving Jace shit for calling him Johnny boy.

“Hey, don’t blame me. It’s all your girl’s fault here,” Jace retorted, nodding the bottle toward Alyssa.

She took a sip of the cool, refreshing beer. “If Johnny didn’t have pet names for me, I wouldn’t have pet names for him. So therefore, it’s his fault he’s called Johnny boy.” She finished with a winning smile.

Ford snickered. “She’s got a point.”

“Oh, so you’re taking her side?”

“Nope. Just stating the facts.”

Alyssa took another sip, smiling as she did. “You know I’m right,” she said with the bottle to her lips.

John just shook his head, trying to hide his own smile.

“Where’s your truck? You brought a cornhole with you, right?”

“Yeah, it’s over there,” he hitched his thumb behind his head.

“Sweet. You go drop that fancy tailgate of yours and we’ll grab the cooler and head over.”

His friend loved to give him shit over the fact that his brother Luke bought him a jacked up truck for his eighteenth birthday. “Deal.”

“What’s a cornhole?” she asked.

“It’s not a cornhole. It’s c

orhole, sugar.” John shook his head with a grin, his eyes smiling at her. “You’ve got a lot to learn, city girl.”

By the time they reached his truck, Alyssa finished her beer faster than normal due to her nerves. Between glances from other females and the smell of his cologne combined with being outdoors, it did something to her head. Not to mention, the swagger in his walk was pretty damn hot. She shouldn’t be annoyed over the gawking eyes, but she was and she didn’t like it one bit. John wasn’t really hers per say, but in a sense he was tonight.

“Where should I put this?” she asked John, lifting her empty beer.

“You’re finished already?”

She nodded, handing John the beer.

Tilting her head, Alyssa drank him in. The distressed jeans he wore hugged his backside to perfection and she couldn’t help but glance at the little tears here and there. His long, firm arms pulled something heavy from the truck bed. Her lips parted when she reached his profile. John’s dirty blonde hair dipped into his eye, the dimple near his jaw standing out again. When he yanked the boards toward him, Alyssa could see the flexing muscles in his biceps with each tug. He stood straight, and then looked at her. Who knew arms could be so hot, too?

“This is cornhole,” she heard but didn’t comprehend. “We’re you just checking me out?”

“What?” She cleared her throat. “No.”

A slow, crooked smile slid across his face. “Liar,” he stated and stalked toward her. Alyssa backed up blindly, rounding the truck to the driver’s side and leaning against it.

John boxed her in and stepped close. Everything about him overpowered her senses in every way. She tried not to inhale his intoxicating scent, but it was too hard. Her pulse raced when John leaned down and curved the side of her face.

“Johnny …” she whispered. “What are you doing?”

“I can tell you’re lying, your body gives you away. Admit you were checking me out.”

“I … I was not. I was looking to see what cornhole is.”

His nose grazed her neck and he leaned in. Her heart raced at his closeness. “Oh, really? So the flush in your cheeks was all over a game? And what about your parted lips? Were those for the game too?” She nodded. “You know, I can see your pulse pumping in your neck right now.” His tongue snaked out and slid across her neck to her thumping pulse and she shivered. “Either I make you nervous, or you’re lying. Which is it?”