That’s how Sloane felt the moment after kissing Brady Knox.

Logically, Sloane knew the man was attractive before his lips had crashed into hers. Sure, like most attractive men, he made her a tad nervous when talking to him. And, sure, that had all been before she’d placed her hands against his chest and noted how hard it was and how pleasant that felt.

Who didn’t like the classic aloof bartender type? Topped off with messy, dark blond bedroom hair and a set of hazel green eyes that had a constant hint of a smirk behind them? And who didn’t like arresting jawlines covered in five o’clock shadows? Never mind a set of plump lips that created electricity just by touching you?

Sloane wasn’t about to say she disliked any of that. No siree Bob. She, in fact, found out how much of a fan she was when Brady broke their surprise kiss and left her wanting right then and there, lips parted and face warm.

So much so that she plum forgot where they were for a moment.

“I’m sorry,” Brady said, voice a low-thrumming complement to his lips. “I know I said we should keep a low profile, but I couldn’t help it. I want people to know about us and couldn’t handle it anymore.”

He pulled back, taking his hands and lips with him. Then his gaze swept to her right, and Sloane remembered where they were.

She didn’t understand the kiss and barely knew the man, but, with one glance at Carol, she decided being clueless was better than being interrogated solo.

“Oh, well, I guess it’s o-okay,” Sloane stammered out, careful not to make too much eye contact with any one person. “I mean, I’m happy we don’t have to keep it a secret anymore.”

Brady smiled. It activated another wave of heat that traveled up from Sloane’s stomach and pooled in her cheeks. That smile transformed into a crooked grin.

The sight was even more pleasing.

And confusing.

Just like everything that was happening.

At least Sloane wasn’t the only one trying to grab on to some answers.

“Hold your horses.” Carol’s arched eyebrow was paired with her hand poised in the air, index finger pointing at Brady. Sloane wasn’t even going to chance a look at her brother.