Saint was quiet in the car on the way to Dallas Friday night. He seemed to be in another world, so I left him to his thoughts. I may or may not have snuck a few glances over to appreciate the navy man in a french-blue button-down shirt and black dress pants. He looked downright edible, if a bit distracted.

After an hour in the truck, he finally blinked and turned to me, reaching across the center console for my hand.

“I’m sorry, Augie. I didn’t mean to sink into my head like that. Something happened this afternoon at the ranch.”

“Is everyone all right? Doc and Grandpa? Neckie?”

“Oh, yeah. Yes. Everyone is fine.” He continued to tell me about his grandfather’s long-lost-relative situation. Then he updated me on his siblings and the baby. “She’s so freaking sweet, Augie. So tiny.”

“Yeah,” I teased. “They make ’em small, don’t they?”

“Neckie said she had a big fat Wilde head. I wonder if I had a baby… if it would have a big head.”

I looked over at him. His everything was big.

“Yes,” I said before clearing my throat. “But don’t forget big heads hold big brains.”

Saint’s smile faded a bit, and he glanced at me. “Neckie asked if I might want to go into business with her.”

The sound of the tires on the road filled the spacious cab, and flat plains whizzed by outside the windshield on either side of us. I told my galloping heart to calm the hell down.

“Like, at Twist?” I asked.

“Yeah. She said it’s grown so much, she wishes she had an equal partner. MJ told me later she thinks Neckie actually wants to sell it eventually when she starts her own family.”

My breath came quickly, as if I’d been jogging well past a comfortable pace.

“And, that would mean… what? You’d work there? Live there? In Hobie, I mean?”

The idea of seeing him regularly and not being able to touch him made me feel dizzy. I could just imagine walking to Sugar Britches for coffee and running into Saint Wilde and his beautiful new boyfriend. Because he would have one. He’d have a damned string of them.

Saint opened the center console to grab a pack of gum stashed inside. I caught sight of his handgun in its holster and spotted a box of bullets underneath in the dark recesses of the storage compartment.

He had his gun.

Gun.

My breathing came even faster.

“Yes. Move back to Hobie. Quit my job and help run the gym full-time.”

He glanced over at me again, so I turned my head to look out the window. “Oh. Yeah. That’s… y-your f-family would l-love that.”

Awkward silence fell in the cab, and I struggled to catch my breath.

I would have to move away. There was no way I could see Saint with someone else in my little town. No fucking way. Oh god. Who was I kidding? I was a scrawny-ass geek. This was a lark for him. He was a big, highly skilled tough guy. I was a weakling. A coward. Hell, I couldn’t even convince myself I deserved a relationship. How the hell did I think I could convince someone else?

“Augie?”

“Gngh?”

He looked over again, but I turned my shoulder so he couldn’t see me struggling for breath.

“Baby, shit.”

“No, I’m fuh… fuh… fine.” I sucked in a loud breath and grabbed at my chest. “Just breathed something wrong,” I gasped and tried not to let any part of my body touch the center console where the gun was. What if I accidentally set it off? What if I knocked it with my elbow and…

I couldn’t breathe. My fingers searched frantically for the window button.

“Fuck,” he bit out as he yanked the car off the highway onto a side road. He scrambled around to the passenger side, but I was already out and stumbling across the dried grass into the nearby field.

“No, ’s f-fine,” I tried reassuring him. “S… Sorry.” My knees wobbled until I decided I might be better off on the ground. I went down hard and would have landed on my face if Saint hadn’t grabbed me and kept me from pitching forward.

He moved me around until I was cradled on his lap in his arms.

“Do you need an ambulance? Is it a panic attack?”

I met his eyes and shook my head before nodding. “The gun,” I whispered.

Realization dawned. “You’re afraid of guns. When you fainted at Landen—it wasn’t blood sugar. It was the gun?”

I tried nodding as I let out a slow breath.

“Oh, honey. Oh, Augie. Christ, I’m so sorry. Why didn’t you tell me? Never mind. I know now.”

“I…” I heaved in another breath and tried to slow down. “My d-dad was shot in an armed robbery. I w-was there.”

He held me even tighter, cursing softly under his breath. Saint’s neck smelled like heaven. The familiar scent of him went a long way toward helping me calm down.

“Augie, I knew that but didn’t think about it. I didn’t ever even… shit. I never even asked you about it. When I read the article about the robbery, it was before I knew you. Before… I’m so fucking sorry I never even asked. Of course you get nervous around guns. It’s completely understandable. I’m so stupid.”

“Not stupid.”

The adrenaline spike was fading quickly, and I began to shiver violently in the cold October air despite Saint’s warm body against mine.

“Let’s get you back in the truck.”

He made me wait by the hood while he moved the gun around to a locked tool box in the bed of the truck. He’d told me to look up the traffic on his phone to see if there was anything we needed to avoid on the route, but I knew what he was doing. It was thoughtful as hell, and I felt myself falling even faster for him. The idea of this ending between us broke my fucking heart.

Saint helped me get back in the truck before hopping in and getting us back on the highway. His large hand clasped mine the rest of the way to Dallas and didn’t let go until we were pulling through the large metal gates at Grandfather’s house. Once we were parked in the forecourt between the giant fountain and the overly large front doors, I panicked all over again as I realized I was about to stand in front of my family and deny this man was mine. What if that would somehow make it true?

“I don’t want you to have a gorgeous boyfriend!”

Saint slow-panned toward me. “What?”

“I… I don’t… It’ll be too hard to see you with someone beautiful and perfect and… please.” Okay, I was completely off the rails and might as well shoot for the moon. “Please, um… just don’t… or, ah, maybe just give me a chance? I mean, if you’re looking. For someone. To date.”

Both of Saint’s hands landed on my shoulders and gripped firmly enough to get my attention.

“Remember what I said about not disparaging my judgment in men?”

Fuck.

I nodded.

“I happen to already have the most beautiful boyfriend ever. And I don’t really understand what’s happening right now, but—”

“Who? Who?” There was an owl nearby, perhaps. Either that or I’d had a complete break with reality.

“You, you idiot. Why do you want me to give you a chance? I don’t get it. Aren’t we already dating? I mean, I know it’s been fast, and we haven’t really put a label on it yet, but—”

“Me?” I squeaked, à la Stevie Devore. “Me?”

It wasn’t an owl, it was a parrot. And the damned thing wouldn’t shut up.

Saint’s eyes glanced toward the front door of the house where I could see my grandfather’s valet standing and waiting. It was a good thing my sister had warned me she wasn’t going to make it until later, or I was sure she’d already be out here watching me make a fool of myself through the truck window.

“Yes, you,” Saint said softly, as if Salvatore could hear us from inside the truck. “Surely you realize the main reason I’m considering Neckie’s offer is the hope you’d be willing to put up with me a little longer.”

“Little longer?” Again with the parrot act. I was losing it.

One of his hands lowered to my hip where Sal wouldn’t be able to see it. Saint’s thumb rubbed a small but intimate circle just above my waistline.

“As long as you’ll have me? Maybe until you realize I’m a big dumb jock and you deserve better.” His voice stayed low, and it washed through me like a deep, romantic Randy Travis ballad.

“You’re too good for me,” I admitted. “I don’t deserve you.”

“You have it the wrong way around,” he whispered back, eyes boring into me with an intimacy I’d never before experienced. He was stunning in his intensity. “You’re everything that’s good in the world.”

“Saint,” I whispered.

I felt like I was half a breath away from hearing words I’d never heard before when the sound of my mother’s heels clip-clopped across the slate walkway toward the car. I pulled back, feeling Saint’s missing touch above my hip like a brand. He cleared his throat before murmuring for me to hold still while he got the door.

No way in hell.

As he climbed out of his side, I did the same, turning and pasting on a fake smile for my mother.

“What in the world is taking so long out here? Did you bring your aunt Prima the Screaming Eagle?”

“Two bottles of 2006 Screaming Eagle Cabernet. If I see her drink them both in one sitting, I might have to have words with her,” I warned. “It was a thousand dollars a bottle.”

“Oh, stop complaining. You can afford it, and you know it’s her favorite.”

Mother leaned in for a kiss, so I aimed an air kiss somewhere near her right cheek. “Who’s this?” she asked rudely when Saint came around the truck.

“Mother, this is Saint Wilde. Saint, this is Diane Stiel, but she goes by Di.”

My mother narrowed her eyes the tiniest bit. “You may call me Mrs. Stiel.”

Saint snorted, quickly covering his mouth and pretending to cough. I thought back on the night in the gym I’d told him he didn’t have permission to use my first name. How embarrassing to learn that the apple didn’t fall far from the tree.

After my mother sniffed and turned to walk back in the house, I finally had the guts to meet Saint’s eye with a smirk and mouth, I’m sorry.

I could have fucking sworn he mouthed back, I love you.

And so I tripped up the stairs and lost my footing.

It seemed when I was in the presence of Saint Wilde, I was always falling.

And he was always there to catch me.