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My stomach dips. It’s Beck Wallace, a horse trainer who works on his family’s ranch about twenty miles away.

He’s really, really handsome. He’s not as tall as the Rivers boys, but he’s still tan, ripped, and wearing a Stetson. He’s got a head full of dark, thick hair and a scruffy beard-mustache situation going on.

When he smiles at me, I feel sparks catch inside my skin.

I also feel myself already getting inside my head.Do I play hard to get, or do I go right up and talk to him? Would he be into a girl with that kind of confidence? Or would he want a nice girl, one he got to chase?

All these questions—along with my desire to put on the perfect performance—fill me with anxiety. Our interaction hasn’t even happened yet, and I’m already dreading it.

I already feel…defeated, and kinda dead inside.

Mollie pulls me closer. “Ask and you shall receive. C’mon. Let’s go say hello.”

Before I can respond, she’s pulling me toward Beck.

He and I grew up running in the same circles, but because his family’s ranch is in a different town, we didn’t go to the same school. We were only officially introduced a month or so ago, when Beck came to deliver a horse to Lucky River Ranch that Cash had purchased. I immediately developed a little crush on him.

Beck’s a charming guy. He’s also a rock star at his job. After I examined the horse Cash had bought, it was clear that Beck and his family bred some of the finest quarter horses this side of the Rockies.

I should not be this nervous to run into him. Then again, I’m nervous around all guys. Except Wyatt, of course. But he doesn’t count. I think I’ve internalized the idea that because Wyatt issomuch hotter than me,somuch cooler, I don’t havea shot in hell of ever catching his eye. Which means I can just be myself around him. I’m not at all self-conscious around him. I don’t second-guess myself the way I am right now.

It helps that Wyatt and I grew up together. There’s a level of comfort between us, of camaraderie, that I hope will never ever go away.

I manage a smile as Beck holds out an arm, clearly inviting me in for a hug.

“Hey, darlin’! How you been?”

A million thoughts whip through my head as I look up into his green eyes.What did that blonde do again with Wyatt? Do I press my boobs against Beck’s chest? What if the boobs are too much? I feel like he’d be into boobs. What guy isn’t? I don’t want to give him the wrong idea though. But, wait, I actually do want to give him that idea. Isn’t that why I’m here? I can’t always be the nice girl—nice girls don’t get laid. But if Idon’tplay the nice girl, will he want to see me again?

Mollie is looking at me expectantly.

“Hey there.” My scalp prickles with heat as I try my best to mimic the blonde’s smooth, easy, flirty hug. I move forward, reaching up, and Beck immediately recoils.

“Ow.”

I look down to see that I’m stepping on his foot. Both feet actually.

Great freaking start.

My face is on fire as I jump away. “Oh my God, I’m so sorry?—”

“Don’t sweat it. You’re not doing The Rattler right if your boots don’t get a little scuffed up from being knocked around.”

“Amen.” Mollie cuts me a look. “I hope that means we’ll be seeing you on the dance floor, Beck? Sally gets a break tonight from being the star of the show.” She nods to the empty stage on the other side of the bar.

My mom is the drummer for Frisky Whiskey, a local band that plays here every Friday night. When I’m in town, I moonlight as a backup singer and violinist.

“Hardly the star,” I reply.

“I’ve seen you up there, doing your thing. You’re great.” Beck is still smiling at me—a good sign. “I don’t have a musical bone in my body, so I’m always so impressed when people can sing or play an instrument.”

I swallow,thank youon the tip of my tongue. But a bit of Tajín gets stuck in my throat. Suddenly, I’m choking, my eyes watering as I sip more tequila in an effort not to cough.

But, oh, do I cough. Loud enough that I catch Wyatt looking up from his threesome—or it’s a foursome, I guess, if you include him—and scrunching his brow while mouthing,You okay?

I hold up my thumb. “All good. Just went down the wrong pipe.”

“You really all right?” Beck’s eyebrows are pulled together. “I can get you some water if you need it.”