Her jaw drops. “No. I—that’s—that’s irrelevant.”
“Because I ain’t.”
“What?”
“Seein’ someone.”
She flushes. “I didn’t ask.” She turns her back to him, snapping a leaf off a thin peony stem. “Or care.”
Seth runs a hand through his hair. “What if I do?”
Her eyes widen, her expression going slightly stunned. Then she shakes her head, like she’s trying to erase his words. “You’re leaving. This can’t be anything serious.”
It’s out of his mouth like a bullet. Fast. Searching. “Why not?” He steps closer, giving her a sheepish look. “I’m tryin’ to be good here, Lace. And I’m admittin’, it’s hard. Real damn hard.” He grips the curve of her hip and holds her face in his eyes. “I haven’t been able to get you out of my head since that night.”
Her lips go flat, wary. “That’s because you see me as some manic pixie dream girl.” She sniffs. “Don’t worry, you’ll get over it.” But her voice is strained, like she doesn’t believe what she’s saying. Like she’s feeling the same as Seth.
“No,” he says, pulling her in closer. “That ain’t it.”
He doesn’t know how to tell her that his feelings didn’t happen overnight. Things have been changing between them for a damn long while. If anything, that night had him seeing it clear. Her clear.
There’s so much more to Lacey than he ever imagined. Goodness. Gorgeousness. She’s gold inside and out. There’s a connection between them that he hasn’t felt with anyone else.
Lacey wets her lips. “This isn’t Nashville, Seth.”
Seth hesitates.
Say it or not. Because he’s on the edge of something he can’t rewind. Admitting he wants more, wants her ... is he fucking crazy? They live two thousand miles apart. She’s Sal’s sister. But still, hope swells in his chest. Maybe she wants it too. Wants them.
He reaches out, cupping her cheek. “Maybe I don’t want it to be like Nashville.”
She stares up at him, speechless. Her palm presses against his chest like she’s planning to shove his sorry ass away from her. Or better, grip his shirt and haul him to her lips. The angle of her body, the heat coming off her, her scent, her long blond hair, has him delirious. Has him leaning down. Has him—
Lacey startles and jumps back from him. “You need to leave.”
He shakes himself out of his daze, grimacing at the hard flex of his cock. “What?”
“I just remembered.” She smooths her hair, her voice wobbly. “You need a tux. For the party tomorrow.”
“Tuxes make me itch.”
“It’s a black-tie gala.”
“So you’re sayin’ spurs and boots?”
She raises the pampas grass. “A tux, Seth. Now.”
“Okay, okay,” he grouses, ducking her swat. “Jesus, I’m goin’.”
At the door, he pauses, a sudden thought coming to him. He slides his eyes over Lacey, who looks pretty and flustered amid all the flowers and greenery.
“Hey, Lace.”
She gives him a skeptical look. “What?”
“What’s your favorite flower?” He grins. “For future reference.”
Her face softens. All her sharp edges chased away. “Tulips.”