Even though he’s pushing seventy, he’s got the energy of a twenty-year-old. And I suspect he’s got more than a few bull-riding stories up his sleeve.

I open my mouth to accept the invite, but Drew cuts me off.

“We’d love to, Jack, but unfortunately Kate and I have a previously scheduled appointment. There’s a car waiting for you downstairs to take you to the finest establishments in the city. Enjoy yourselves. And of course the tab’s on us.”

They stand and Jack tips his hat to Drew. “That’s damn fine of you, son.”

“It’s our pleasure.”

As we walk to the door, Jack Jr. turns to me and holds out his card. “It was a real pleasure working with you, Miss Brooks. The next time you’re in my neck of the woods, I’d be honored to show around. I have a feelin’ Texas would agree with you. Maybe you’ll even decide to stay and put down some roots.”

Yep, he’s coming on to me. Maybe you think that’s sleazy. I would have, two years ago. But like Drew told me then, it happens all the time. Businessmen are slick, cocky. They kind of have to be.

It’s one of the reasons this field has the third-highest rate of infidelity—right after truck drivers and police officers. The long hours, the frequent traveling, hooking up almost becomes inevi-table. A foregone conclusion.

It’s how Drew and I started, remember?

But Jack Jr.’s not like the other jerks who’ve propositioned me.

he seems sincere. Sweet. So I smile and reach out to take his card, just to be polite.

But Drew’s hand is faster than mine. “We’d love to. We don’t get a lot of work down South, but the next time we do, we’ll cash in that rain check.”

he’s trying to be professional, unemotional. But his jaw is clenched. Sure, he’s smiling, but have you ever seen Lord of the Rings? Gollum smiled too.

Just before he bit that guy’s hand off who was holding his “precious.”

Drew is territorial and possessive. That’s just who he is.

Matthew once told me a story: For Drew’s first day of kindergarten, his mother bought him a lunch box. A Yoda one. On the playground, Drew wouldn’t put it down because it was his and he was afraid someone would break it. Or steal it. It took Matthew a week to convince him that nobody would—or that together, they could beat the everlasting hell out of anyone who did.

At times like this, I know just how that lunch box felt.

I smile kindly at Jack Jr. and he tips his hat. And then they’re out the door.

As soon as it’s closed behind them, Drew tears John Jr.’s card in half. “Dickhead.”

I push his shoulder. “Stop it. he was nice.”

Drew’s eyes snap to mine. “You thought Luke and Daisy Duke’s inbred love child was nice? Really?” he takes a step forward.

“As a matter of fact, yes.”

his voice morphs into an over-the-top southern drawl. “Maybe I should buy myself some chaps. And a cowboy hat.” Then he drops the accent. “Oohh—or better yet, we’ll get you one. I can be your wild stallion and you can be the brazen cowgirl who rides me.”

And the funniest thing of all? he’s really not kidding.

I shake my head with a smile. “So what’s this mysterious meeting we have? There’s nothing on my schedule.”

he smiles widely. “We have an appointment at the airport.”

he slides two airline tickets out of his suit pocket.

First class—to Cabo San Lucas.

I inhale quickly. “Cabo?”

his eyes sparkle. “Surprise.”

I’ve traveled more in the last two years than I had in my entire life before—the cherry blossoms blooming in Japan, the crystal waters of Portugal. . . . All things Drew had already seen, places he’d already been to.

Places he wanted to share—with me.

I look closer at the tickets and frown. “Drew, this flight leaves in three hours. I’ll never have time to pack.”

he takes two bags out of the closet. “So it’s a good thing that I already have.”

I wrap my arms around his neck and squeeze. “You are the best boyfriend ever.”

he smirks in that way that makes me want to kiss him and slap him at the same time.

“Yeah, I know.”

The hotel is stunning. With views I’ve only seen on a postcard.

We’re on the top floor—penthouse. Like Richard Gere in Pretty Woman, Drew is a big believer in “only the best.”

It’s late when we get in, but after a nap on the plane, we’re both wired. Energized.

And hungry.

All the airlines are cutting back these days, even in first class.

The sandwiches may be complimentary, but that doesn’t mean they’re edible.

While Drew is in the shower, I start to unpack. Why aren’t we showering together? I really don’t need to answer that, do I?

I put the bags on the bed and open them. Most men look at an empty suitcase like it’s some kind of physics equation—they can stare at it for hours, but still have no frigging clue what they’re supposed to do with it.

But not Drew.

he’s Mr. I-Think-of-Everything.

he packed all the incidentals that most men wouldn’t think of. Everything I’ll need to make my vacation comfortable and fun.

Except for underwear. There isn’t a single pair of underwear in this entire suitcase.

And it’s not an oversight.