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John tried not to laugh, he was only playing around. “You have my word. I promise not to make pervy comments. Now can you just

get in the truck?”

Alyssa eyed him suspiciously. “You swear?”

“Yes. But let’s continue this conversation inside,” he gestured to the navy blue monstrosity, idling on the side of the road.

John guided Alyssa to the passenger side and helped her up into the cab then jogged to the other side and climbed in. He took a deep breath and looked at her.

“Alyssa, I really don’t care about some dirt. I live in the South. We get dirty. It just happens. I know you laugh at that and think it sounds ridiculous—“

She laughed. “It does!”

“But we learn to live with it. And one day you will too.” Placing a hand on her knees, John gently eased her legs down until her feet touched the floor.

“It’s okay,” he said, comforting her with a soft look. “And it’s just called mud, not red mud stuff.”

Once they were settled, John turned up the radio and drove for a few minutes. She felt terrible about getting his truck all dirty, even though he swore it didn’t bother him. She was soaked and looked over at John to see if he was as wet.

“Why are you smiling?”

“That’s my brother,” he said, pointing at the radio. Alyssa looked ahead of them to the street. “Where?”

John cranked up the stereo. “He’s on the radio.”

“Your brother is a singer?”

“Yup. He’s a country singer.”

“Oh dear God, I should have known,” she teased. “Country music is the only thing that plays on the radio, isn’t it? How do you listen to that stuff?”

A creased formed between his brows. “What do you mean?”

“Well, they all have that twang and sound the same to me. They sing about their dogs riding shot gun as they get ready to play in the mud,” she put emphasis on mud. “The girls walk around in ugly ass cowboy boots and everyone loves fishing. I can just picture a piece of straw hanging between their lips.”

John chuckled. “You forgot drinking beer.”

“That goes without saying.”

“Have you ever been fishing?”

“No, it’s not really my thing.”

“How do you know it’s not your thing if you haven’t tried it?”

“I guess I don’t, but sitting still and waiting around for a fish to bite would make my patience run thin.”

John laughed. “What is your thing?”

She shrugged. “Not getting dirty? Anything but country?”

John may have only had a couple of conversations with Alyssa, but her no bullshit attitude and forwardness called out to him. She was a breath of fresh air he wanted to inhale. She wasn’t like other girls he’d grown up with, and he liked that she wasn’t afraid to open her mouth and speak up.

“What kind of music would you like me to listen to? Rap? Because to be honest, I don’t really care to hear about hoes getting fucked and bitches getting slapped,” he said bluntly. “Not that there’s anything wrong with rap, it’s just not my thing.”

Alyssa barked out a laugh that caused a smile to spread across his face. Her laugh was contagious. “I listen to a little of everything, just not country.”

Leaning back, Alyssa relaxed into the seat. She listened to the song on the radio in an effort to expand her music tastes for John, mainly because it was John’s brother crooning. The lyrics caught her attention. They were full of love, sadness, a yearning to be close to someone. The emotion in his voice tugged at her heart, and she found herself actually wanting to hear the song. Turning up the radio, she brought her feet up and placed them on the dashboard and listened. Definitely not what she was expecting at all and she kind of liked it.