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He doesn’t flinch. Just leans on the doorframe like he has all the time in the world. "Swimsuit, something for dinner out, the rest causal, and an appetite. You've got ten minutes."

"That’s all I get? No itinerary? No consent form?"

"Nope. You said you like surprises. And I like bossing you around. Win-win."

I fold my arms. "I have work, bar prep…"

He steps closer, voice softer. "You’ve been busting your ass. Let me take care of you this weekend. One night. Just say yes."

God help me, I want to.

“Okay. I could use it.”

Twenty minutes later, I’m buckled into the passenger seat of his Camaro, my overnight bag in the back, and my stomach full of butterflies that have nothing to do with travel.

The airport is surprisingly quiet, considering it’s a Saturday. Nate parks, tosses me a devilish smile, and grabs my hand like it’s the most natural thing in the world.

"Still not telling me where we’re going?" I ask as we head toward security.

"Nope. But you’re gonna love it."

TSA is its usual brand of awkward, made better by the fact that Nate gets flagged for a protein bar and proceeds to make a whole production about it.

"Don’t confiscate it," he says to the agent. "She gets hangry. I fear for my life."

"You fear for your life?" I repeat as we collect our bags. "You have a hundred pounds on me."

"Women who are hungry are like vicious bears. Very, very scary."

I shake my head, but I’m grinning as we head to the gate. I try guessing destinations while we wait, and he shoots down every theory with increasingly ridiculous lies.

"We’re going to Antarctica. I heard penguins love lawyers."

"Nice try. But obviously, we are on a plane to Missouri."

"Admit it. You’re intrigued."

"Fine. Mildly. Maybe."

Onboard, he pulls out a snack I didn’t know I needed, the exact protein bar I grab when I’m stressed.

"You’re unsettlingly observant," I say, taking it.

He smirks. "It’s cute how you think this is a new development."

By the time we land, I’m relaxed in a way I haven’t felt in weeks. The air is warmer, the sun softer, and the landscape greener than home.

After about two hours or so in the rental car, I see a sign that says Lake of the Ozarks. We drive along a winding road lined with trees bursting in color until we pull into an elegant but cozy cabin nestled at the edge of a lake. It’s like something out of a storybook: warm wood, big windows, and a wraparound porch.

I blink. "Nate, this place is gorgeous."

He shrugs, like it’s no big deal. "Figured you deserved something nice."

"You planning to kill me here?"

"Only with pleasure."

My mouth drops open, and he just walks away, laughing.