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“What about karaoke?” he suggests. “We can head back to the Giddy Up.”

“No, absolutely not.” I respond faster than I can think, my tone sharp. Sharper than it should be.

“Why not?You said that’s your thing.”

Anton’s brow pulls together, two little lines forming. He looks so sincere, making me want to lower my walls. Or at least create a door to let him inside.

“Exactly, it’s my thing.Something I’ve done alone.”

“Okay…”

I sigh, closing up the Styrofoam box with my food and setting it behind me on the truck bed. Buying myself some time, I take a big swig of my water, then I turn toward Anton, as I pull one leg up onto the tailgate .

“My best friend’s family owns a karaoke bar back home in Alabama. Wall Bangers.”

“I’m familiar with it.”

Now it’s my turn to be surprised.

“You’ve been to Wall Bangers?”

“What college kid has spring breaked in Hurricane Shoals and didn’t go to Wall Bangers?” He shrugs.

Good point. And now that I think about it, I probably shouldn’t be too surprised that Hurricane Shoals is where he went on spring break.

A lot of college kids from the south do.

And the little detail that I keep forgetting—that Dustin Wild is from Hickory Hills, and friends with Anton’s sister—should also have clued me in.

“Fair point. Well, my family owns Hull of a Good Time Cruises. They do fishing trips and day cruises, and then booze cruises at night. Because of that, my parents were gone a lot. Like, a lot a lot. During the summers, I could go a week without seeing them, and that wouldn’t be abnormal, leaving me to kinda raise my siblings. ”

“That…wow…”

I nod. “Going to visit Eliza and singing was…my escape. It was something I got to do by myself. A way to disappear and be someone else for a little while. Even if that little while was just the three minutes of a song. So, I’m sorry if it comes off that way, but I’m not trying to be rude.

But I’m not interested in doing karaoke with you. ”

“More than fair. I totally get it.”

He grabs his water, chugging it. I watch, entranced by not only the muscles in his neck, but his answer. His easy acceptance and understanding.

“You do?”

“Oh yeah. Sawyer, I’m a middle child. Of seven kids. Yes, I absolutely get it.”

Anton closes up his food, setting it on top of mine. Everything around us slowly fades, the sounds of the conversation in the distance dimming even more as Anton turns to face me, mirroring my position.

“I understand exactly what it’s like to need to have something that is yours and yours alone.

You don’t grow up with a whole bunch of siblings and not feel the need for some alone time at some point.

That room you’re staying in, it wasn’t always just mine.

Hux and I shared that room for most of my childhood.

It wasn’t until we were teenagers and Gus and Milo moved out that we got our own space. ”

Suddenly I’m realizing that maybe he’s not simply the shallow clown I stumbled across on the side of the road. That there’s a lot more to Anton Hayes than I thought. A whole lot more.

I want to know it all.

Reaching over, he takes my hand. The butterflies reappear, a giggle building inside me. I want to look away. Pull my hand away. But I can’t. Much like earlier, the feel of his skin against mine is electric—magnetic—holding me in place.

“How about this, Sawyer Brown,” he says, hopping off the tailgate and gathering our trash.

“There’s a great little ice cream place over in Merritt.

What if we take a drive over there, and on our way, you can tell me all about growing up in Hurricane Shoals, and how you ended up interested in soil instead of marine biology, since your family runs a boat company. ”

“That’s easy,” I answer, joining him on the ground. “I hate boats.”

“You…hate…okay, then, no Fishy Business for you then. Now get in the truck, because I can tell this is going to be a good story.”

Next thing I know, two hours have passed. For something I didn’t think would take thirty minutes, the fact that we’re out well past my bedtime has me more than a little surprised. Then again, it was equally surprising to find that Anton Hayes is really easy to talk to. And a damn good listener.

For a self-proclaimed instigator, there is absolutely a side to him that he doesn’t let anyone see.

Listening to him talk about his siblings, how each one of them plays a different role in the family—his descriptions mirroring his mother’s, only with some more colorful details added in—I couldn’t help but start to see him differently.

It made me want to open up to him, to tell him all about my own life back home.

And spend more time with him.

“Can I ask you something?” I stop on the top stair of the landing at Magnolia Manor, turning to face Anton.

“Of course.”

“When I told you I didn’t like boats, you said no fishing business. I don’t get it. Does Hayes even having a fishing division?”

Anton throws his head back, a deep laugh rumbling through him. The sound rings out into the warm, summer night, resonating deep in me.

“ Fishy Business ,” he clarifies, taking my hand and leading me to the door. “It’s Auggie and Miss Belle’s sex boat.”

“Sex boat?” I croak. TMI…

I can feel the heat rushing to my cheeks, my eyes going wide as I try to keep the visions from entering my head. Anton laughs again, shaking his head.

“Nothing like that. We give them a hard time about it, because Auggie bought it for Miss Belle as a gift when Willa graduated from college. Said since they were officially empty nesters and all us kids were on the legit Hayes payroll and not his personal one, he could finally afford one. As far as yachts go, it’s small and rather unassuming, with enough room for all of us to hang on it for a day, and a cabin that is big enough for basically one purpose… ”

He trails off, winking, letting me make my own assumptions. Which I do. As the oldest child of parents who own a party boat company, I’m more than familiar with all the ways people can get naughty-cal.

And just how many of them make that pun.

“They’re really cute,” I say, not knowing how else to respond.

Anton smiles, stepping in to me, closing the already small distance between us. My heart skips a beat, something that until now I would have said was a metaphor, the rest of me silently beckoning him closer. Because the couple of inches of space feels like it might as well be the Grand Canyon.

Placing a hand lightly on my hip, Anton takes one more step, giving me a little bit of my wish. But only a little.

“At the risk of sounding cheesy, I think you’re really cute, Sawyer,” he whispers.

“That is really cheesy.”

But also really sweet.

Anton tilts his head to the side, a single chuckle escaping with the subtle move. “I’m a little out of practice at this part.”

“Want to know a secret?” I ask, a weird anticipation rising in my chest.

“You are one up on me in the secret department,” he reminds me.

“I like cheese.”

“Me too.” Tightening his grip on my hip, Anton leans in, lowering his head slightly. “A lot.”

“Same.”

My answer is short, breathy, and full of so much want I wonder if Anton can hear it. If he can’t, it must be because it’s drowned out by the sound of my racing pulse.

Sucking in a breath, I let my eyes flick to his lips, wondering what they’ll feel like against mine.

I know damn well that kissing Anton is against my better judgment.

That this isn’t that kind of date. At least it wasn’t supposed to be.

But somehow, here we are on the steps of his parents’ house, with him leaning in, and all I can think about is how badly I want to kiss him.

I just need him to?—

Anton slides his hand from my hip to the small of my back, softly pulling me into him, capturing my lips with his.

I whimper, the smooth, swift move more than enough to overwhelm my senses and make my knees wobble.

Sensing my new unsteadiness, Anton tightens his hold just enough, and I relax into him, into his kiss, letting the feel of him take over. I know he has me.

He won’t let me fall.

I grip onto him, pushing to my toes, wanting more. Wanting to find out exactly what Anton has to offer. Wanting to know if?—

“Ah, you’re home!”

Auggie’s voice cuts through the air, breaking the spell. I let go of Anton, trying to step back, pure mortification washing over me. Oh, fuck, I did not just get caught making out with Anton Hayes on his parents’ front porch.

Shit…

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me…” Anton mutters, his hold on me loosening.

“Y’all have fun?”

I step away, unable to look at either of the Hayes men standing on the porch. Now I really, really want to dig that hole and crawl into it. And maybe die while I’m down there.

“I…I…I gotta go…”

“Sawyer!”

Turning on my heel, I race into the house and up the stairs, not looking back. I crash down on the bed, paralyzed with embarrassment. What was I thinking? Oh wait, that’s right, I wasn’t .

The ding of my phone cuts through my brain fog, but I ignore it, unable to face anyone. Even digitally. But a second, then a third and then a fourth, almost immediate pings, make me think something might be wrong.

Anton

Sorry about that. Welcome to having a DAD

Let me make it up to you? Lunch tomorrow?

There’s some place I want to show you. I think you’ll like it

Please

I laugh, unable to help myself. And then, still against my better judgment, I reply.

OK