Page 116 of The Wildest Ride

She nodded. “I do. Haven’t made it far, though. Spain, and most of the southwest, is all. My choir went to Canada once. The ranch keeps me pretty close to home these days.”

His interest piqued. “You were in choir?”

She cocked her head toward him, eyebrow lifting. “Yes.”

“Will you sing for me?”

“Absolutely not.”

“Pretty please,” he begged, grinning the whole time. “You sing for me now and I’ll make your body sing later.”

“No. And all your Spanish and travel and dirty talk won’t change my mind.”

Judging from the flush in her cheeks and the way she shifted in her seat, they were already working their magic, but he wasn’t going to rub it in. Yet.

Smile knowing, he reached for his tequila, letting his shirt stretch tight against the muscles of his arm as he did so, before taking it back for a slow sip. She watched the whole thing as if her eyes were magnetized to him. He licked his lips, and she swallowed and he felt the sound in his soul. And the growing bulge in his pants.

“How’s the wine?” he drawled heavy at her, and her eyes darted back up to his.

“Hmm? Oh. It’s nice,” she said.

“Nice?” he asked with a smile.

“Nice,” she repeated and their eyes locked. She said softly, “I’ve had the best.”

A jolt of possessiveness shot through him so strongly that his whole body tensed. Again, he strongly considered abandoning the rest of his plan for the night and taking her somewhere with a bed.

But beyond having a great night out with a fascinating woman, this was aboutnotthrowing her on whatever flat surface he could find. He wanted to show her a different side of himself and his hometown. Tailoring that to Lil had taken planning and it’d be a shame for all the effort to go to waste.

The waiter arrived with their dinner, putting an end to the debate for the time being.

Lil took a bite first, vegetables, and made anmmmmof approval. “Delicious.”

“You start with the vegetables at a steakhouse?”

“I always start with the vegetables.” She said it like it was a perfectly normal adult thing to do.

“Why?” he asked.

She shrugged. “They’re good for you.”

“I feel like that says something about you,” AJ said, taking a bite of his T-bone. It was a perfect medium rare and served with a chimichurri sauce that tasted like it’d been made fresh for his plate. Perfectly cooked steak and dinner with the most fascinating woman he’d ever met—life didn’t get better.

An image of Lil’s face as she came apart beneath the stars flashed across his mind and he amended the thought: lifecouldget better, but Lil was the common denominator.

He had a feeling he’d only scratched the surface as to just how good life could get with Lil.

And at this rate, he’d be swooning over the simple act of her breathing by the end of the night.

Breaking into his thoughts, thankfully, she asked, “How do you select the mentees for CityBoyz?”

“Applications. It’s a fairly straightforward form with a few essay questions. We’re not bringing them into our homes or anything like that.”

“How many kids do you have at a time?”

“Up to seven. Beyond that can get dangerous.”

“I can imagine.” She shuddered. “Seven teenage boys anywhere is a recipe for trouble, let alone around bulls.”