Hazel enjoyed flirting with Dylan. Probably too much. But he was so handsome in that hat, and it seemed like every female eye had swiveled their way as soon as they’d entered The Barn.

Of course they had. Dylan didn’t come to town much, and he certainly never came out dancing and singing in a place like this. Hazel did, and often, and had found many of her first dates here.

It was bizarre how she was thinking about never having another first date again. Dylan was handsome, kind, hardworking, punctual, witty, and probably a bunch of other things she hadn’t learned about him yet.

He was the first man she wanted more time to get to know. More dates. More of everything.

“This isn’t a low-carb night, is it?” he asked as he picked up the menu.

“I haven’t eaten saltines and butter since last weekend, so nope.”

“Great.” He put the menu down and looked across the table. “So, McKayla, what do you do for a living?”

“I’m a motorcycle mechanic.” She gave him a friendly smile and tossed her hair over her shoulder.

Dylan clearly wasn’t expecting that, because he made a noise of surprise. “Wow. That’s…great. You must work at Johnston’s.”

“It’s my grandfather’s shop.” She glanced at Jason. “It’s been in the family for about as long as Grape Seed Falls has been a town.”

“Do you ride in Motorcycle Mania?” Dylan asked, and it was Hazel’s turn to inhale in surprise. The waitress arrived and placed their drinks on the table.

“Every year,” McKayla said. “Are you interested? It’s coming up.”

“I don’t have a bike.”

“It’s not necessary,” Jason said.

“Are you ready to order?” the waitress interrupted, and they turned their attention to ordering. Dylan got an order of cheese and bacon French fries, as well as a tower of onion rings, and Hazel wondered how much the man could eat.

When the petite woman walked away, Dylan asked, “So anyone can ride? Where do they get a bike?”

“You can rent them from us for the event,” she said. “I own three motorcycles.” She scanned him though almost all of him hid beneath the table. “You’re really tall, but my father’s bike might be a good fit.”

“Your father’s bike?” Hazel asked, her surprise echoing in every syllable now.

McKayla shrugged, but Jason covered her hand with both of his. “Someone should ride it.”

Dylan looked at Hazel, and they somehow had a conversation about how McKayla’s father had passed away a few years ago without saying anything. She liked that so much, her fingertips started to tingle. She’d seen her parents have these silent conversations, and it always made her marvel that two people could be so in tune with one another. She’d longed for that kind of relationship before she’d even known what it was.

“I’d like to come see if I can ride it,” Dylan said. “I’m okay on a horse, but—a”

“And an ATV,” Hazel said. “And a side-by-side.”

Dylan smiled at her, a soft gesture that made her insides gooey. “Those too. But I’ve only ridden a motorcycle a couple of times. I love coming to the parade though, and I’ve always wanted to ride in the Mania.”

“There’s only another month to register to ride,” McKayla said. “I’ll send you the application or you can fill it out online.”

“All right.” Dylan gave her an easy smile and the conversation moved to Jason and how he’d come to open the ice cream shop in a prime retail spot before the age of thirty.

“I’ve lived here my whole life,” he drawled. “And I used to ride my bike to that shop every weekend with my brothers. We’d work all morning on Saturday and get a few dollars for our effort, and be off to spend it immediately.” He smiled at the memories only he could see.

“When the owner went out of business, I told my parents I wanted to buy the building and keep the shop going. They loaned me the money, and the rest is history.”

“Not quite,” Hazel said. “He worked like a dog for three years before the shop really solidified and started making money.”

“Adding in the sandwich shop helped,” he said, glancing at Hazel. “And of course, we’re very busy in the summer tourist season.”

“He makes a to-die-for grilled cheese,” Hazel said. “We should go tomorrow for lunch.”

“I’m headed out to the cabin tomorrow,” Dylan said quietly.

Hazel whipped her attention to him. “You are? Without me?”

He blinked at her, searching her eyes for her true meaning. What was her true meaning? Of course he’d have to go out to the cabin without her—often. It was his job, and not hers, and she couldn’t expect to be able to go along with him every time.

“Do you have any information on the trackers we put in?”

“Lesli and I have been analyzing the coordinates.”

“Maybe you should print them out and bring them with you tomorrow,” he said, his blue eyes dancing with mischief. “I’m only going for two days. I’ll have you back on Sunday evening.”

Hazel was very aware of the way McKayla’s and Jason’s eyes moved from her to him with every turn in the conversation. She didn’t want to jump at the chance to go with him, though she had no reason why she couldn’t.

“I have my dogs,” she said.

“Bring ‘em,” he said at the same time Jason said, “I’ll take ‘em.”

She glanced at him, almost seeking his permission. He gazed at her even while McKayla did the nodding.

“All right,” Hazel said. “If we can take Monty and Milo, I’ll come. I don’t want you to have to take them again, Jason. I know you and McKayla were going to go down to that swap meet.”

“Oh, right.” He could’ve rolled his eyes as a perfect punctuation mark to his sentence. “The swap meet.”

“Hey, I thought you wanted to go,” McKayla said in a half-hurt voice.

“I do,” he assured her, but Hazel knew he didn’t really want to. Thankfully, their food arrived, the perfect distraction for all conversation.

Dylan could indeed eat a lot of French fries, onion rings, and bacon cheeseburgers. When he finally leaned away from the plates in front of him, he groaned. “That was incredible.” He smiled at her lazily, and if he knew how dangerous that smile was, Hazel suspected he’d never do it again. Or maybe he would. She wasn’t sure, but she enjoyed flirting with him.

“All right, cowboy,” she said, sliding out of the booth and standing up. “Time to dance.” She extended her hand toward him, the horrified look on his face making a jolt of joy steal through her.

“Oh, I need time to digest,” he said, patting his flat stomach.

She laughed. “Right. And movement will get your digestive system going. C’mon.” She tried to keep the whine out of her voice. “Please?” She failed as her hand dropped to her side.

Dylan regarded her for a moment, those bright blue eyes blazing with flirtatious fire. “All right,” he said, moving to the end of the bench and standing. “But I’m warning you, just because I’m good at twirling a baby around doesn’t mean I can actually dance.”

Oh, but he could. The moment he took her in his arms, Hazel knew this would be the best dance of her life. He had natural rhythm, and he spun her around the dance floor to the beat of the quick tune the band was playing, pulling a laugh from her throat.

He laughed too, and brought her close again, holding her hand right against his pulse.

“It’s racing,” she said, gazing up at him as everything and everyone around them fell away.

“I’m not nervous,” he whispered.

“Excited?” she asked, hoping.

“Having a great time.” He leaned down and kissed her on the mouth, a quick peck that was there one moment and gone the next. Though she barely had time to feel his lips, her own heart skipped and stuttered, and she knew she was in very real trouble of giving him her whole, battered, bruised, and scarred heart and hoping he knew how to fix it.

“We never went and got you a German shepherd,” she said as she watched Monty and Milo pile out of the side-by-side and trot after Dylan like he was their new master. He certainly had a way with animals, and Hazel added that to the list of things she liked about him. It was a long list, and she worked to remind herself that he wasn’t perfect.

He couldn’t cook.

He didn’t go to church much, though he said he came in as often as he could.

He didn’t speak to his father, even after fifteen years.

He didn’t have a house of his own, and why Hazel had lain awake last night thinking about where they might live after they got married was a mystery to her. And yet the thought still plagued her.

Don’t ask him, she told herself. It was a conversation they didn’t need to have until she was wearing a diamond—and that was light years away.

Or should I ask him? she wondered, quickly turning her thoughts into a prayer. She’d always been able to be direct with Dylan about her feelings. Why not this too?

She waited to see if she’d feel anything one way or the other, but nothing came.

He unlocked the side door of the cabin and let the dogs go inside first. Milo barked, of course, but fell silent after one yip. She found them sniffing in the kitchen and then rushing to the couches, their noses going nuts with all the new smells of this new place.

“Have you ever thought about getting married?” she asked.

A terrible crash made her turn and face him. He’d dropped everything he’d been carrying—the hot plate, a small cooler, and both his backpacks. He stared at her, his face drained of color and his mouth hanging open.

“Not to me,” she said quickly, though a frown tugged her eyebrows down. If not to her, why was she asking? “I just meant…well, I just wondered if you ever thought about getting married in general.”

“I suppose,” he said, his voice a complete monotone.

“Where would you live?” She walked over to the third couch back—his favorite one—and set her small bag down. Since they were only staying for one night, she’d brought considerably less with her.

“I don’t know.”

“So you have really thought about it.”

“Are you thinking about it?”

“All women think about every detail of their wedding and the life that follows it.” She bent down to pat her dogs. “Let’s get some food, should we, guys?” She busied herself with getting down a couple of bowls and filling them with water from the kitchen sink. Then she went back out to the side-by-side and collected the dog food she’d brought.

Dylan stood in the exact same spot, making no effort to retrieve the equipment he’d dropped, while she scurried about, feeding and watering the pair of English bulldogs.

She shouldn’t have asked, and she shouldered her bag and kept her back to him as she said, “Forget I said anything. I’m not thinking about getting married to you.” She walked into the bedroom and closed the door, half-hoping he’d call to her or come knocking to explain why he’d gone mute and still at the very topic of marriage.

“Maybe he’s never thought of himself as a husband,” she muttered to herself. But then, how did he expect to be the dad who twirls with their kids?

She moved to the large window that looked out of the back of the cabin, the fence along the edge of the ranch only a hundred yards away. The morning was young still, with plenty of time to check the herd, make lunch, and play games. And she’d ruined it with a bold, premature question about marriage.

So they’d held hands and kissed a few times. So she liked texting him during the week, and the promise of seeing him on the weekends, and maybe even the potential to have him in her life long-term. Didn’t mean she should’ve brought up marriage within three weeks of their first meeting.

How long could she stay sequestered in her bedroom? Every moment felt suffocating, and she turned back toward the door just as Dylan knocked on it.