I hadn’t thought this through. Not even a little bit. Shoot first, ask questions later. That was always my jam. Only this time, I was the one who took the bullet. Because here I sat, stuck in a car with a woman who, up until a couple of hours ago, couldn’t stand the sight of me. Not that anything had changed in that regard.

Except that it had.

Something shifted the minute Tori let me behind her walls. It wasn’t just the grief and desperation peering from the corners that struck a chord, but her mad strength and resolve. And also my guilt for putting her in this situation, even if she should’ve known better.

I couldn’t just abandon her.

Only now, my decision seemed less heroic and more like the act of an impulsive teenager. Tori had a million people waiting in the wings to help her if that’s what she wanted. She didn’t need me.

Leaning on the gas, I put more distance between us and the raging storm. By the time we reached the northern tip of Williamson county, the clouds were a black smudge in my rearview mirror.

With nothing but blue skies and open road ahead, I eased off the accelerator and chanced a peek at my passenger.

Tori gazed out the side window, nervous fingers working the fabric of the Caged T-shirt balled in her lap. The sun poured in from all sides, kissing her pale skin and the raven hair that fell in soft ribbons around her shoulders. There was no denying her beauty, but this messier version was far more alluring.

When her phone buzzed for the umpteenth time, I shoved my dirty thoughts back in the box.

After a brief look at the screen, Tori discreetly hit ignore and returned her attention to the scenery. Her frown told me I wasn’t the only one with buyer’s remorse. Thankfully, we were less than a couple of hours into our misadventure. Nothing we couldn’t unwind.

I roughed a hand through my hair. “Listen, Tori—” A small gasp tumbled from her lips, and I whipped my head in her direction. “What?”

She blinked at me with wide, honey colored eyes. “The Little Czech Bakery. Can we stop?”

Her face glowed with excitement. Over kolaches. If I’d’ve known that puffed pastry filled with jam or sausage was the way to break through her rock-hard exterior, I would’ve brought a box to every meeting.

“Sure thing, princess.”

She bounced in her seat when I slid the car into the right lane to exit. But her enthusiasm waned as soon as she got a good look at the parking lot. Packed didn’t begin to describe it. Every traveler making the trek between Houston and Dallas/Ft. Worth was here. Or so it seemed.

“Maybe we shouldn’t,” she said, sinking back against the upholstery.

That was a given. The glorified truck stop, with its wall-to-wall people, was a recipe for disaster.

Ignoring the warning bells in my head, I pulled into a parking space as far away from the other cars as I could get.

“It’s all good,” I said, not really sure if it were true. Grabbing a Longhorns baseball cap from under the seat, I tossed it in her lap. “Put that on.”

Running a finger over the frayed orange fabric stretching across the bill, she eyed me speculatively. “What about you?”

On any other day, I’d probably be the biggest celebrity in the joint. But the woman at my side had me beat hands down in the fame department. I was a star. But Tori was rock royalty.

I pushed the car door open with a chuckle. “I’ll take my chances.”

“Wait!” She caught my arm. “I’ve got something in my suitcase.”

Yanking off her seat belt, she scampered onto her knees and then leaned into the back seat. Her blouse rode up, revealing the ink above the waistband of her jeans. I’d glimpsed the tattoo before, a large piece that took up most of her back. But I’d never had the urge to trace the lines with my fingers.

She wiggled her ass as she rooted around in her bag. Unintentional. But my dick didn’t get the memo. And now I had a semi. Fucking perfect.

Shifting my attention to anything but that swath of skin, I muttered, “We don’t have all day.”

She plopped back into her seat, a TCU baseball cap in hand.

I wrinkled my nose. “Are you kidding me?”

Her tongue darted out as she secured her soft waves in the rubber band she’d pulled from her wrist. “Don’t look at me like that, Cage,” she warned as she yanked her ponytail through the hole in the back of the purple hat. “I’m probably a bigger Longhorn fan than you are. Which makes this an even more effective disguise.” Propping her oversized sunglasses on the bridge of her nose, she smiled. “Don’t you think?”

“It’s fuckin’ ugly is what it is.” But she looked damn cute wearing it. Shoving the orange cap on my head, I slid out from behind the wheel. “Let’s get this over with.”

She joined me in front of the store, a pair of shorts and the Caged T-shirt clutched to her chest.

“What?” she asked, peering up at me.

“I never took you for the kind of girl who changes in public restrooms.”

A laugh spilled from her lips. “Our first tour bus,” she shook her head, smiling, “the bathroom had the most God awful smell. Nobody would use it unless they absolutely had to. I spent six months finding the cleanest restrooms in the country so I could dress without gagging.”

A bell rang when I pulled the door open to the shop. “That’s nothing. Our first bus was about a hundred years old, and the tour lasted a year.”

Tori ducked under my arm, then smirked at me over her shoulder. “Ours was eighteen months. But six months in, our album went platinum and Taryn negotiated a better bus.” Smug, she batted her eyelashes. But then someone strolled by munching on a berry and cheese kolache. “Oh my God, I want that. And a couple sausage and jalapeño too. And …”

She moved toward the counter, but I cut her off. “Go get dressed. I’ll take care of you.”

Apparently, my tongue and my brain were on the outs. Otherwise, I never would’ve made that promise. But before I could take it back, Tori flashed a grin that lit up her whole face.

Was it really that easy to make the girl smile? And if so, why didn’t everyone do it?

Taking my place in line, I tracked her movements as she weaved through the crowd. Gazing up at the menu, I couldn’t decipher any of the items on the board. I’d been here many times, but always left the ordering to someone else.

Ten minutes later, the waitress shuffled over, and when I made eye contact, I saw the spark of recognition in her eyes.

“What’s good here, darlin’?”

Tilting my sunglasses, I peered at her over the rim, just to confirm what she already suspected.

“Oh my God. It’s you! You’re Logan.”

I managed to grab her hand before anyone investigated her shriek. “Let’s not draw any attention, okay?”

A blush spread from her chest to her hairline. “Sure. What can I get you?” I rattled off a half dozen items, and when she handed me my receipt, she whispered, “Can I get your autograph. Pretty please?”

“Sure.” Tossing her a wink, I scribbled my signature on her notepad.

With her prize in the pocket of her apron, she scurried off to fill my order while I scooted in front of the register. The cashier took my money, too busy to acknowledge me with more than a harried smile.

With the treasures in hand, I slipped out the door. My good mood evaporated when I spotted Tori hovering by the bumper of my Mustang. Clad in a pair of cutoffs with frayed ends that barely peeked from the bottom of the Caged T-shirt, she squinted up at some douche nozzle in a cowboy hat who didn’t know the meaning of the word boundaries.

Scowling, I marched in their direction, wondering why she didn’t just get into the car.

When I clenched my fist, my keys dug into my palm, answering the question.

“You sure you’re married, darlin’?” I heard him ask as Tori turned to make her escape. And then he did it. His beefy paw wrapped around her arm, and I saw red.

“Get your hands off her!” The command ripped from my chest, low and lethal. But the cowboy fuck was too busy leering to notice. Tori’s gaze found mine, and she shook her head imperceptibly. Maybe if the douche wasn’t still standing close enough to breathe all over her, I would’ve heeded the warning.

“Did you fucking hear me?”

Tori slid between us before I could get a hand around the dude’s neck.

Palms flat against my chest, she smiled up at me. “There you are.” My rage subsided as she brushed her fingers lightly over my pounding heart. “I thought I’d lost you.”

“Not likely,” I bit out before turning my attention to the cowboy doing his best to skulk away. “Where do you think you’re going?”

His hands flew up in surrender. “Sorry, bud. I didn’t … I wasn’t …”

Normally, his stammered apology wouldn’t mean shit. Hell, it didn’t mean anything now. But as I took a step forward to teach him a lesson, Tori pried open my fist and laced our fingers. “Let’s go.”

Whatever was left of my anger dissolved under the weight of her touch, the softness of her hand in mine. And without giving the cowboy a second glance, I followed.