“Heaven.”

“Have you been? How do you know what it smells like?” I challenge him. I really can't help myself.

“You, angel. You’re heaven.” I lean back to peek up at him. Here I have Marco talking, but this is nothing like what I thought he’d say when he finally spoke to someone. I wasn’t expecting him to be sweet.

“You’re nothing like what I thought you’d be.” I rest my head back down on his shoulder. I’m exhausted. I can’t remember the last time I cried that hard. It was all too much.

“Most people aren’t as they seem. They try to be what they think you want them to be.” I let out a small yawn.

“Are you telling me you’re not a lumberjack? That might be disappointing.”

“I thought you were sure I was a serial killer.” I tense at his words.

“You keep up on town gossip?” Now he is really surprising me. He does one of his grunts. The sound makes my body tingle. I enjoy him talking, but there is something about those grunts of his that do it for me. A week ago, they annoyed me, but I’m realizing now that I felt that way because I loved them but I could never get them.

“I keep up on most things.”

“I didn’t know you knew I existed. I’ve seen you around but—”

“I know you exist, angel. Have since you moved to town.” A warmth blooms in my chest. Then I heard Marco’s name whispered from somewhere. I lift my head again, glancing around the room, wanting to know who is talking about him. There is a group of ladies who quickly turn away when they see me looking their way. I might not have heard them, but I know for sure they’re gossiping about Marco and me.

“Maybe I should move. People are watching us.”

“Let them watch,” he says without a care in the world.

“The staring doesn’t bother you?” I’ve wondered if he hid away in his cabin because of the scar on his face. Has no one told him it’s a badass one that only makes him more appealing? He has a story, and everyone wants to know it, but no one has the balls to ask him.

“No,” he says without hesitation. “I don’t care what they think or say. It’s irrelevant to my life.”

“Damn, I wish I had some of that. I can brush some stuff off, but you really give no shits.”

“Not true. If I gave no shits, I wouldn’t be here tonight.”

Right. How had that slipped my mind? He threw out a crazy bid and won me. The date was only supposed to be for the night, but that didn’t go as planned. I have spent most of it with him, though.

I’m sure that, paired with the auction and now me sitting in his lap, people are forming all kinds of rumors. I try not to fidget. I know they don’t mean harm, but it takes me back to my high school days when people would whisper or make not-so-kind remarks about me.