Dylan set Cami on her feet and gazed down at her, a range of happiness and affection racing through him. The moment lengthened, as she looked back at him with those gorgeous eyes.

So he’d been prolonging the moment before he kissed her, but now the idea came back in full color. Before he could lean down, he became aware of the pressure of Lord Vader’s body against his calf and the hot, wet sensation of the dog’s saliva as it dripped onto his toes. Dylan pulled away again but kept Cami as close as he could as he glanced down at the dog. “Vader.” He gave the dog a little nudge.

He couldn’t believe that an hour ago he was slumped on his couch, his heart heavy and his mind churning. Everything had changed when she’d walked up to him, her smile bright, her tone flirtatious, her curves so dang pronounced in that tiny scrap of fabric she called a pair of shorts.

And they were white, which only made her tan legs seem to go on for miles and miles. Dylan reined in his thoughts and tucked Cami against his chest. He tried not to notice how easily she went, how well she fit. But he noticed. He noticed hard.

“How about some ice cream?” he asked, taming his fantasies and realizing the moment had passed. “The shop’s just back that way.”

“Yeah, it’s like four blocks back that way.”

“Oh, you don’t want to walk?” he teased. “I’ll drive you.”

“That would be great, thanks.” She flashed him a flirtatious smile that had him thinking about how he’d been too slow making his way toward her mouth for a kiss.

They walked back around the duck pond, Dylan thinking of one of his favorite childhood treats—pistachio ice cream. “My dad brought us for ice cream every weekend,” Dylan said, not really sure why he was sharing this deeply personal part of his life with Cami, a woman he sure liked a lot but didn’t know really well.

“Me and my sisters. We’d get ice cream cones every weekend, skip rocks right here in this pond, and then Dad would let us get a waffle to share before we went home.” He thought of how he’d always had to run to keep up with his older, longer-legged sisters, how he always got the last cone from the counter, how he barely got two bites of waffle before Alecia would whisk the treat away from him.

“We got to spend time with Dad,” he said. “It was fun.”

“Sounds fun. We can go. I know they have ice cream sandwiches made with homemade cookies.”

“Those aren’t homemade, you know.”

“Yes, they are.” She glanced at him. “It says so right on the sign.”

He glanced at her, pressed his lips together, and shook his head. “I happen to know they buy them from Cisco. Same ones you get at the burger joint.”

Cami blinked a few times like she’d been personally affronted. “Well, I still like them.”

Of course she did. Dylan was starting to get used to the fact that no matter what he liked, she wouldn’t, and what she liked, he probably didn’t.

Not a big deal, he thought. They seemed to get along okay, and their bodies were definitely in a perfect partnership during that almost kiss….

And she liked horseback riding, so that was a huge win in Dylan’s book.

He helped her into the truck, thinking that her perfume would get trapped in the cab and he’d be able to smell her there. He drove down the road at a crawl, wanting her in his truck for a bit longer.

Once inside the ice cream shop, he ordered a pistachio ice cream cone for him and a “homemade” ice cream sandwich for her. Once they were back outside with Lord Vader shuffling along beside them, he said, “Let me prep you about my family. I’ll tell them about you before we go. I should probably tell my mom this week, as she’ll probably need extra time to make another batch of potato salad.”

A beat of silence passed, and then Cami said, “You’re kidding, right?”

“Not even a little bit.” Dylan chuckled at the thought of his petite, blonde mother. “She plans everything down to the smallest detail. She makes binders of her plans. So me adding a girlfriend to the picture will upset her seating arrangements, her food—”

“Girlfriend?” Cami stopped, the hand holding her ice cream freezing in mid-air.

Dylan licked his ice cream, waiting for the playful smile. It didn’t come, and frustration bolted through him.

“I was about to kiss you back there, Camila. What do you think is going on here?” Dylan lowered his cone and watched her. Watched the pure fear roll across her face. Watched a blush stain her cheeks.

He leaned over and pressed his mouth against her blush on the right, and then the left. “Don’t answer that, okay?” He stepped back and started walking again. “I won’t call you my girlfriend when I tell my mom.”

She caught up to him, but she didn’t say anything. Just licked the edge of her ice cream sandwich and then bit it, one ruby-red lip on each side. Dylan wanted to kiss her very badly, taste the chocolate and vanilla on her tongue, mess that lipstick up a little.

He looked away and caged his fantasies. She didn’t even want to be called his girlfriend, and while he’d thought she’d definitely let him kiss her while they were alone in the park, it was obviously a different matter being called his while in a group of people. His family.

“We’ve only been out twice,” she said when they reached his truck. “Girlfriend is just a little fast for me.”

“All right,” Dylan said, hoping some of that calm, coolness she’d accused him of earlier had infused his voice. He flashed her a smile, thinking I don’t need the label right now. I like her. She obviously likes me. That’s enough.

“How about lunch tomorrow?” he asked. “And then we can go out to the ranch.”

“I eat lunch,” she said, which caused Dylan to laugh.

He threaded his fingers through hers again, enjoying the sensation of her skin against his and the scent of that soap on her neck.

The following morning, Dylan stopped by his mom and dad’s before his lunch date with Cami.

“Mom,” he called as he pushed into the red brick rambler.

“In the garden,” came the reply.

He went past the steps leading upstairs, where his childhood bedroom still held football trophies and his old baseball mitt. His father sat at the kitchen counter, doing something on his tablet. “Hey, Dad.” Dylan didn’t even slow down as he pushed the sliding glass door farther open and stepped into the backyard.

“Hey, Ma.” He leaned over and gave her a quick kiss on top of her head. She stood and gave him a hug, patting him on the back.

“How are you?” She stepped back and brushed her hands together. “What are you doing here?”

Dylan couldn’t stop the smile spreading across his face. “I came to let you know I’m bringing a woman to the barbecue.”

Shock painted his mother’s face, which also broke into a grin. “A woman? Troy!”

“Oh, Dad doesn’t need to know,” Dylan said too late, as his father appeared in the doorway.

“What?” he asked.

“Dylan’s bringing someone to the barbecue.”

“In three weeks,” Dylan said. “We might break up by then.” He didn’t mention that Cami wasn’t even his girlfriend. They were definitely dating; she couldn’t deny that. Well, she probably could. Dylan didn’t want to think about it.

“Oh, Dylan.” His mother slapped him with her gardening gloves. “What’s her name?”

“Camila Cruz.”

“The plumber?” his dad asked.

“Yep.” Dylan grinned. “We both won the bid at the new housing project going in up north.”

“You won the bid?” His mom shrieked and threw herself into his arms.

Dylan laughed. “Mom, I work for the city, remember?”

“You worked hard on that bid.”

He had worked hard on that bid, so he took their congratulations and even let his mom text all his sisters with him standing right there.

“I have to go,” he said a few minutes later, after his dad had poured him sweet tea and his mother had asked him if he wanted a breakfast sandwich. He’d declined, but he’d thought seriously about saying yes. His mother was the best cook in the county, maybe even the whole state of Texas. Her fried egg breakfast sandwiches could bring in a mass of people, but Dylan wanted to be hungry when he went to lunch with Cami.

“Stop by tonight,” his mom implored as she walked him to the door. “Sally’s coming with the kids because Hugh is out of town. I’m making sausage Alfredo pizza.”

Dylan’s stomach roared at the thought of that pizza. “I’ll tell Boone too.”

“Yes.” His mother’s eyes sparkled as if she hadn’t had anyone to cook for in years. “Tell him to bring Nicole.”

Dylan waved and headed out the front door, his thumbs sending the message to Boone. He’d bring Nicole, and for the first time in a while, Dylan’s jealousy didn’t rear up. He smiled and headed over to the older section of town, where Cami lived.

He passed the church and decided to swing into the parking lot real quick. He felt worlds out of his league with Cami, with the upcoming build, with taking his girlfriend—whether she wanted to be called that or not—to meet his family in three short weeks.

And he needed a little divine intervention. It seemed impossible that he hadn’t had the opportunity to attend church since the dinner with Cami. If he had, he wouldn’t feel so out of sorts.

He gazed up at the steeple on the church and took a moment to close his eyes. Breathe. Just breathe.

Help me with Camila Cruz, he prayed. He didn’t need a powerful feeling to overcome him. Prayer worked inside him, and it always made him feel better even if he never got a definitive answer.

But he felt more peaceful about his upcoming day, and his excitement for lunch and horseback riding returned.

“Thank you,” he verbalized as he backed out of the parking space and turned back onto the road. He drove toward her house, enjoying the lazy breeze and low traffic on this Saturday.

He pulled into the driveway of a small, white house that had a big porch that spanned the whole front and wrapped around both corners.

Rose bushes lined either side of the front steps, and a wind chime hung from the eaves. Her door was painted a nice shade of mint green, and the trees in this neighborhood were mature and tall, casting the houses in shade.

Dylan thought it absolutely fit Cami, and he waved to a blonde woman as he got out of his truck and started toward the door. Then he did a double-take. “Carole Anne?”

“Dylan Walker,” she said with a huge grin. “So she called you, huh?”

Dylan paused while still on the sidewalk and looked at her. “Uh, what?”

Carole Anne got up and started across the patch of lawn that separated the two properties. “She didn’t call you?”

“Nope.” He shook his head and accepted a quick hug from her. “How’s Levi? Things so exciting at the bank?” Dylan couldn’t imagine being cooped up in an office, wearing a suit and tie to work each day. But hey, he supposed there was a job for everyone.

“So exciting,” Carole Anne said. “So if she didn’t call you, why are you here?”

He leaned in close, a smile touching his mouth. “I called the emergency plumbing line. She had to answer.”

Carole Anne pealed out a laugh, and Dylan chuckled too. “Well, good for you,” she said. “Sometimes Cami can be a bit prickly.”

“Really?” Dylan asked as he started up the steps. “I hadn’t noticed.”