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That gets a chuckle from him. “I think you’ll do just fine.”

We both look up at the creak of floorboards by the top of the stairs. The breath leaves my lungs when I see Sally standing there. She looks fuckinggorgeousin jeans and those red cowboy boots she wore that night at The Rattler.

Her lips are pink and full. They glisten. Some kind of lipstick or gloss?

Her dark hair is loose around her shoulders, and her eyes have this subtle sparkle around them that makes me think she’s wearing eyeshadow.

I don’t ever notice the makeup girls are wearing. But I notice everything about Sally. The flush in her cheeks and the self-conscious way she tucks her hair behind her ear, revealing the multiple piercings that dot her lobe.

Placing her hand on the banister, she smiles, her dimple popping. “Hey, Wyatt.”

“He—hey, Sally.” Didn’t realize my mouth was dry. I try clearing my throat. “You look beautiful.”

“I showered for you.” She makes her way down the stairs. “You’re welcome.”

I manage to smile. “How lucky am I?”

I get an intense, not-altogether-unpleasant sense of whiplash. This almost feels like prom night—the pretty girl coming down her parents’ stairs to join her nervous wreck of a date. All I’m missing is a flask of liquor pilfered from my parents’ cabinet, and a corsage for her that color-coordinates with my boutonniere.

Sally and I didn’t go to prom together. I went with random people, girls who had asked me and whose names I can’t remember for the life of me. Sally ended up going stag with her girlfriends.

At the time, I didn’t think much of it. But now I’m glad I didn’t know I was in love with Sally back in high school. Being fully grown adults who appreciate how special our connection is—how rare—is better. Mostly because we don’t have to lie to our parents about where we’re sleeping tonight and who we’re sleeping with.

Also, I know what I’m doing now. I was having sex back then, but I can’t imagine I was very good at it.

Now though? I’m real good at it, and I get to be good to Sally.

“Pretty damn lucky,” John B says.

Sally bites her lip when she descends the last step and looks up at me. “You’re early.”

“Course I’m early.” I slide a look at John. “I couldn’t waitto see you.”

I haven’t seen Sally since Wednesday, when she stopped by the ranch with John B to examine an injured longhorn. Our conversation was brief, but I did get to give her a quick kiss before she left.

We’ve talked on the phone. Texted some too. But nothing compares to being in the same room with her.

The smell of jasmine fills my head as Sally goes up on her toes and wraps me in a hug. “Hi,” she murmurs.

Careful not to pull her too close, I circle her with my arms. “Hi.”

She falls back, hands resting on my biceps. She’s still smiling. “My bag’s right there. Dad, I’ll…see you later?”

I grope blindly for air. Has Sally ever been this lit up? Thishappy?

John B must notice it, too, because he looks at her for a long beat before he takes a sharp inhale. “Sounds good. Y’all have fun.”

He cuts me one last look, as if to say,Remember your promise.

Then he disappears into the house, and Sally is reaching for the little black bag by the door.

“I got it,” I say, leaning down to grab it before she does.

Sally is still fucking smiling when we’re in my truck and on the way back to my place. “That wasn’t awkward at all.” Her voice drips with sarcasm.

“Not one bit. I don’t know what the rules are for picking up your date when she lives with her parents,” I tease.

She carefully pulls her hair out of the collar of her coat. “I think the only rule is, you get her the hell out of there as fast as you can.”