Unfortunately, Gabe puts a shirt on and the three of us—me, him, and the puppy—head out to grab lunch. He has a favorite place nearby. It’s not too crowded, he says, and no one really bothers him. Reminds him a little of home.

I brace myself for what I know is coming next—a big-time star rhapsodizing about the small town where he grew up and how he loves Los Angeles, but aw shucks, he really misses his hometown, where no one cared about fame or money.

This is not my first rodeo, after all.

He says it, of course, but the power of Gabe Parker is that I actually believe him.

Speaking of rodeos, I’m sorry to say that on our way to lunch, Gabe himself shatters part of the Montana Man fantasy by informing me that he’d never actually been on a horse before his role in Cold Creek Mountain—the first time that audiences saw him without a shirt.

“No ranches, no riding,” he tells me. “I grew up in a small town.”

Gabe looks like the kind of guy that should be a movie star. Heads turn when he passes, and it’s not just because he’s six foot four and holding an adorable puppy. He has that ineffable quality that we’d all bottle and sell if we could.

And yes, ladies—he is actually six foot four. Not Hollywood’s version of six foot four, which is closer to five foot ten, but actually a towering, tall hunk of a man. I know this for a fact because I’m Hollywood’s version of six foot four.

We get a table in the back where there’s a patio for the dog. It takes us fifteen minutes to get there, but it’s mostly because Gabe himself keeps stopping and talking to the waitstaff.

You see, they all know him. He’s a regular.

“Madison, honey, you look gorgeous,” he says when our waitress comes to take our order.

She’s radiantly pregnant, and waves off the compliment.

“I mean it,” Gabe says. “Your husband should say that to you. Every. Single. Day. On his knees.”

I’m pretty sure that if I were pregnant, my water would have broken at that exact moment.

But Madison just laughs and takes our order, giving Gabe’s puppy a pat on the head before floating off to the kitchen with more grace then I could have ever managed, pregnant or not.

We each get a beer and a burger.

We talk about his childhood in Montana. How close he is with his family, especially his sister, Lauren. She’s older by a year and Gabe’s best friend.

“I know it’s cliché,” he says. “But she really is.”

We talk about the bookshop. The one he bought for Lauren and his mom when he got his first big break.