“Remind me not to ever walk up on you in the dark again,” Pete says. He wipes his hand across his forehead.

I laugh. “I doubt you’ll need a reminder.” I jerk a thumb toward the bathroom at the end of the barn. “Do you need to go and change your pants?” A grin tugs at my lips. I try to bite it back, but it’s nearly impossible.

Pete looks down at his shorts. “I think I’m good for now.” He bends his knees and squats down close to the floor. He holds out a hand for Maggie to come and sniff. “Now, if she takes off a digit, I’ll be singing a different tune.” He laughs.

Maggie slinks slowly toward him. She’s still wary, but she’s calm. I’m not sure I like the idea of my dog getting friendly with a stranger. “Mags,” I call, and she rushes back to me. “Don’t try to schmooze my dog into liking you,” I warn.

He raises his brow.

“She’s trained to protect me,” I rush to explain. She goes back and forth to my apartment in the city with me, even though I’m sure she likes it more here on the farm. But I need her. In more ways than one.

He nods, leaning against the open stall door. He jams his hands in his pockets. “I saw you and thought you might want some company.”

“I already have company,” I say. I probably sound like a shrew, but we got a little too close by the fire and I’m feeling the effects of it now.

“What’s his name?” he asks, nodding toward my horse.

I smile a completely unbidden smile. “Her name’s Tequila,” I say, scratching my horse affectionately.

Pete steps closer, and Tequila swishes her tail in his face. He brushes it away, spitting as he wipes his mouth. I laugh.

“You haven’t been around horses much, have you?” I ask.

“Can’t say I’ve ever been in a room with one before,” he says, picking at his tongue with his thumb and index finger. He spits again and finally looks satisfied after wiping his mouth with his forearm.

“I got another of your firsts,” I say. I immediately realize my mistake and try to take it back. “I mean—”

But he holds up a hand and grins. “Hey, if I had all my firsts to give you, I would.” His eyes meet mine, and a spark jumps between us.

I close my eyes and take a deep breath. I’d have liked to have had the choice of who to give mine to. But I didn’t. And that’s over, I remind myself.

“You okay?” he asks, his brow furrowing.

I nod. “Fine.”

I step out from behind Tequila. I still have Maggie between us, and Maggie would never let anything hurt me. Tequila’s low on water, so I grab the hose and fill her up. Pete jumps when I accidentally spray his shoes.

“Sorry,” I say. I really didn’t mean to do that. I bite my lower lip and avoid his gaze.

“A little water never hurt anyone,” he says with a shrug. I think I hear him mutter something that sounds like “I could use a little cooling off,” but that might just be wishful thinking. He grins at me. He’s so damn cute. His eyes are bright blue, I know, but in the low light of the barn, they look almost sapphire. They’re rimmed by dark lashes that are so thick they’re feminine, but there’s nothing girly about him. He’s all man, from the width of his shoulders to the quirk of his grin. He’s about a head taller than I am, but for some reason, I don’t feel intimidated by his size. That’s probably because he hasn’t touched me.

“You should take a picture, princess,” he says with a grin. “It’ll last longer.”

Heat floods my face, and I look away.

“Hey,” he says softly. “I was just kidding.” He steps toward me, his eyebrows drawing together.

I take a deep breath and force my insides to settle. I feel like there’s a Ping-Pong ball in my belly that keeps dropping toward my toes. Humor usually works in these situations, so I try that. “I can’t help it if you’re made to stare at.” I grin.

This time, it’s his face that floods with heat if the color on his cheeks is any indication. “You think I’m pretty,” he says, smiling. He’s all swagger all of a sudden.

“Pretty is not a word I would use to describe you,” I say, laughing.

He leans casually against the stall door again. “Then what would you use?”

“Full of it,” I toss out.

He laughs.

I take another deep breath. “Why are you here?” I ask.

He shrugs. “I thought you might want some company.” His gaze searches mine, and it’s so intense that I have to break away.

“I figured you’d be too worried about your nuts to come around me again,” I tease. Laughter seems to be the best way to get around this man’s poignant pauses.

“You let me worry about my nuts.” He laughs and looks down. “Well, you can worry about them, too, but I take full responsibility for their safety.”

I laugh. He’s really pretty funny. “We can both worry about your nuts,” I say with a smile. I chance a glance at him, and he’s looking closely at me. Too closely. Laughter. I need to say something funny. But nothing comes to me. I bite my tongue because I don’t want to say the wrong thing.

“Do you want to go out with me?” he asks. He looks surprised by his own question, and I assume he wants to take it back. But he doesn’t. He just looks at me expectantly.

“Define out?” I say.