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ANDY

I WAKE UP thinking about Jack. The sensation of his mouth on me—on my lips, my neck, my breasts. The caress of his hands on me. The feel of his hard chest against mine. The earthy smell of him. And most surprisingly, his dirty talk. Sweet Jack has a bad boy side.

I check the time. I have a couple of hours before our date, so I drag myself out of bed and put on my running clothes. I can fool my body into exercise if I get going before my brain is awake.

It’s cold outside, the kind of fall weather that means it’s going to snow soon. I pull down my beanie and head towards the lakeshore trail.

My head is still full of Jack as I run. It’s not like me to make out like that with someone I’ve barely started dating. I’m not free-spirited about sex like Dawn is.

But all my rules fly out the door with Jack.

From the moment I saw him—completely naked—he was obviously gorgeous.

Yet, I wasn’t attracted to him when I assumed he was an egotistical jock.

Once I discovered how sweet and considerate he is, my opinion shifted.

And now that he’s showing off his confident and sexy self—he’s irresistible.

He has layers, and each one I peel back reveals something even better.

I stop running, put my hands on my knees, and take a breather. Lake Superior looks moody and mysterious with the light mist rising from the surface. But I’m too preoccupied to really appreciate the view.

I’ve never been attracted to someone this strongly. If we hadn’t been interrupted by that idiot Lloyd, we could have…

No, I can’t blame Lloyd for the abrupt way I left Jack’s bed, even as I could see I was disappointing him. Heck, all my body parts were protesting. Andy, we want to stay here . Why do I deny myself the things I want?

I shake out my limbs, then begin the run home.

I find the idea of Jack a little scary. Not physically, of course.

Despite his ability to smash large men into the boards, he is a gentle soul.

The type of person to catch and release spiders.

So, what exactly am I afraid of? Is it because Bryce unexpectedly breaking up with me hurt so much?

Or is it because Jack feels like an even bigger risk to my poor heart?

Back on the steps of Humphrey Hall, I stretch and greet a few other early risers. I feel better after my run, less frantic and confused. I’m just going to relax and not overanalyze everything.

After breakfast, I get dressed in jeans and a white T-shirt, then open my sweater drawer. I grab for my favourite grey sweater, then stop. There’s a soft red sweater that I haven’t worn for a while. Red usually feels like too much of a look-at-me colour, but it seems right for today.

I brush my hair and remember Jack’s fascination with my hair loosened.

In the mirror, I do look wilder, freer, with my hair down.

Is this what Jack finds sexy? So, instead of putting my hair into a bun, I dig out a couple of silver combs and arrange them in my hair.

Now my hair is off my face, but still loose.

I’m not usually someone who dresses for a guy, but Jack is so sweetly appreciative.

I pirouette in front of my full-length mirror. Maybe the differences are subtle, but I like them.

By the time Jack messages me to let me know he’s on his way, I’m full of anticipation—the perfect mood for a date. I grab my coat and purse and skip down to wait for him outside.

He pulls up in his truck and reaches across to open the passenger-side door.

Hey, I would have come up to get you, says the gentlemanly Jack. He flashes me his sunshine smile, and I beam back.

It’s okay. I’ve been up for hours, so I was all ready, I explain.

Not me. I was still asleep half an hour ago. Apparently, Jack wakes up looking like a North Face model in his puffer jacket and khaki pants. Have I ever gone on a date with anyone this attractive? The answer takes all of a nanosecond to figure out: not even close.

He drives expertly, with one hand on the steering wheel and the other on the console between us.

Did you stay late at the party? I ask.

Nah, I went straight to bed after I took you home. He smiles over at me. It wouldn’t have been any fun once you were gone anyway.

I’m not used to these honest confessions of affection. Maybe because Bryce was the king of withholding emotion. Or maybe because I’m not trusting enough.

I sigh. I’m sorry about last night.

Jack looks puzzled. Why? You didn’t do anything wrong.

In your room. I wanted to stay, but instead I left so abruptly.

He’s watching the road, but the corner of his mouth turns up. Oh, you wanted to stay?

Are we back to making me admit everything? I complain.

No, I’m just relieved. I was worried that I pressured you too much. He looks over at me for so long that I start to worry about road safety. You look so pretty today. I’ve never seen you wear your hair like that.

Jack’s sweetness is disarming. I’m going to turn off my anxiety brain and enjoy our time together. He’s gone to the trouble of planning a big date on one of his few free days, so the least I can do is be fully present.

I wore my hair this way for you, I admit.

Really? Jack’s smile widens. He reaches over the wide console and squeezes my hand. His hand is warm, calloused, and comforting.

I nod and smooth my hair. So, where are we going?

It’s a surprise. Jack’s open expression is now smug.

I hope it’s a good surprise, I grumble.

What would be a bad surprise?

How do I count the ways? What’s that game where you shoot each other with fake guns?

Paintball? Laser tag? he asks.

Combat is not a date, I state firmly.

Jack chuckles and squeezes my hand. Oh, don’t worry. I know what women like to do on dates.

I scoff. Someone sounds overconfident.

He continues smoothly, Women enjoy something personalized. You know, when the guy has put some thought into what to do.

And you learned this through your past…uh, dating experiences? Great, Andy—way to mention his ex right off. He must enjoy that as much as I’d like to chat about Bryce.

You mean Cori? No, she usually decided that we were doing, although it turned out she hated that. Jack’s tone is matter-of-fact, with no bitterness or complaining. I learned from listening to my sisters complain about their dates.

You know, I don’t know very much about your family. Unlike me, Jack doesn’t overshare whenever he gets nervous.

I have three older sisters. Like, a lot older. Amelia, the youngest one, was ten when I was born. Margaret is two years older than her, and Bea, the oldest, is two years older than Margaret.

Wow, that is a big gap. There’s only a four-year gap between me and my younger brothers, which felt wide enough.

My dad was a widower, and my mom is his second wife. First, she was the family dentist. My sisters encouraged my dad to ask her out. There aren’t a lot of dating options in a small town, and they thought she was the nicest one.

And it worked out, I say.

Jack chuckles. Well, he’s a bit shy, so he ended up going for a bunch of dental appointments until he could work up the courage.

I laugh. I can picture his whole family now. The quiet patriarch and three bossy, interfering daughters—women a lot like me. So, you grew up on a farm?

Yeah. A cattle ranch, actually. But my dad decided to retire from ranching, so he sold the place to Bea and her husband.

Your sister took over the business? Was there any pressure on you as the only son? I ask.

Nope. My dad’s not like that. It was pretty clear that Bea was the one who loved ranching the most. His eyes crinkle as he smiles. Is this what it’s like to be interviewed by you?

Sorry, I have a bad habit of switching into reporter mode. But I genuinely want to know more about your life outside hockey.

He shrugs. I’m pretty boring. Eat, sleep, play hockey. Actually, here’s a Sinclair family fact you might find interesting: Bea met her husband on a reality show.

What? That’s insane. Which one? I demand.

It’s called Farming for Love. It’s a Canadian show. They have four farmers on at a time, and each one gets to choose from seven available partners. And instead of only straight men, there are women and gay farmers on as well.

Wow, I never realized farmers were so desirable, I tease.

We sure are, ma’am, Jack drawls in a terrible Texan/Saskatchewan accent. I may have finally found something he’s not good at.

Did you know that there are farmer-only dating apps? he adds.

Wow, so you’re a farmer and a hockey player? You must be Canada’s sexiest man. I try to stay serious but dissolve into giggles.

Jack shakes his head. Yeah, I should go back home. I keep meeting women like you, who dislike hockey and rural life.

Hey, I grew up in a small town too, I protest.

And now you can’t wait to move to a big city, he points out.

Jack’s focused on the road, so I steal the opportunity to gaze at him. Good-looking and a good listener. Jack is all green flags.

So, what happened with your sister? I ask.

Well, it’s pretty funny. She goes out with all these guys on the show, and most of them were clueless about farming.

But there’s this one guy, Evan, who works as a grip on the show.

He grew up on a farm too. They start joking around about all these would-be farmers and become friends.

After the show’s finale, when she’s rejected all the contestants, Evan asks her out.

He had a crush on her the whole time but couldn’t ask her out during filming.

I turn to face Jack. Oh my gosh. How did the show people react?

Yeah, Bea said they were pretty pissed at first. Evan was going to get fired.

But then, the producers decided that it was sort of a win for the show, since they would never have met otherwise.

Now, at the beginning of each new season, they mention how many couples from previous seasons are still together, and they always count Bea and Evan.