This was all her doing. My hand was forced, and I’m spending time with this woman to fulfill a requirement. That’s it.

So why the hell am I struggling to view any of this as a chore?

I turn the truck off after parking in front of the restaurant. Beth takes a minute to look over at me, and when she does¸ her head falls back against the seat and a slow, satisfied smile lifts the corners of her mouth.

“Hey,” I say before blinking heavily at the absurdity of that greeting.

She didn’t just fucking get here, dumbass.

“Hey,” she echoes, without the slightest trace of amusement to her voice. I open my eyes, catching her still watching me. “That was so much fun.”

“What was?”

“Riding with you.”

I tuck my keys into my pocket. “You’ve never ridden in a truck like this before?”

She shakes her head as her fingers begin unfastening the harness. Her eyes drop to the front of her. “Nope. You’re my first.”

“Yeah?”

She nods, and I can tell she’s still smiling. Even though her braid is now covering some of her face, I can still see the slight lift in her mouth.

I go for my own buckle. “Well, in that case, I hope I was gentle. I’ve been known to get a little rowdy sometimes.”

All of her movement ceases, abruptly stopping my own efforts.

“I’m not a virgin,” she says quietly, before letting her shoulders relax against the seat. She lets out a slow breath. “I guess that’s probably something we should know about each other, if we’re going to be pretending to be a couple. Though I’m not sure why that question would come up.” Her head slowly raises until our eyes meet. “Did you think I was?”

I cannot for the life of me get a read on that question. She almost sounds pained, or disappointed that she isn’t a virgin, but why the hell would that matter? And fuck! Do we really need to be talking about this? Is she trying to kill me with visuals?

I don’t know how the hell to answer that without possibly hurting her feelings, or pissing her off, or doing something that will only make my life more difficult. But she’s staring at me with those big doe eyes, filled with curiosity, looking like she’d wait a damn lifetime for what I’m about to say.

“It wouldn’t matter,” I manage through a thick voice, throwing my arm on the back of the seat so that it’s between us.

My fingers brush her soft hair, and she seems to lean closer, giving me more of it. I continue after I force my hand to clamp down on the seat.

“When we’re together on Saturday, when you’re with me, that won’t matter. You understand?” I say my words slowly, hoping they’ll sink in and we’ll never have to talk about this again.

“It would never matter.”

What the fuck did I just say?

She sucks in a sharp breath, nods, and drops her head back down. “It wouldn’t matter for me either.” Her fingers begin working the harness again.

Well shit.

I get out of the truck before I can say anything else that sounds like a damn confession, and before I let what she just admitted affect me in any way. Fuck. Maybe taking her to a restaurant where they serve tequila as a condiment wasn’t the best idea. I’m already acting like an open fucking book with this woman. Add in alcohol, and who the fuck knows what all I’m going to say?

She hops down out of the truck without waiting for my assistance. Her face is a bit flushed, and I wonder if it’s from the rain that’s got a bit of a chill to it, or the conversation we just had.

“I’m so hungry right now, I think I could eat a taco the size of my head.” Her voice breaks with a laugh, all cute and soft. She joins me on the sidewalk with her one hand still gripping her phone.

“We could make a game out of this,” I reply, opening the door of the restaurant and allowing her to walk ahead of me. Her eyes meet mine over her shoulder, waiting. “Whoever eats the most, gets out of paying. I was going to treat you to lunch, but if you think you’re up for a challenge . . .”

“Deal,” she says, almost triumphantly. She turns to face me after we get inside. “You’re underestimating me because of my size. I may be little, but I can pack away food like a squirrel on a nut hunt.”

I look down at her, watching that damn smile grow so big, I know it’s matching the one I’m wearing now.

“Nut hunt?”

She giggles as her free hand wipes the water drops off her forehead. “You like that? You can use it if you want.”

“Yeah,” I answer, lifting one eyebrow. “I’ll be sure to let everyone know I go hunting for nuts.”

The hostess walks up to the podium we’re standing behind and picks up two menus. “Booth or table?”

I motion with my head for Beth to decide. Doesn’t matter to me.

“Booth,” she replies.

The hostess leads us to the back of the restaurant and sets the menus on the table. Beth settles into one side of the booth, picking up her menu which I quickly snatch out of her hands. She eyes me curiously as I pick up the other menu and hand them back to the hostess.

“We’ll take two of the taco platters with everything on the side. I’ll have a root beer with mine.” I sit down across from Beth, waiting until she looks at me before I ask, “What do you want to drink?”

“Sweet tea.”

“Okay. I’ll let your waitress know.” The hostess steps away with our order as Beth sets her phone down in front of her. I reach for it, sliding my thumb across the lock screen and opening up her contacts.