Of the handful of men I’d met, two might’ve had potential. We’d gotten serious enough for me to learn that one lived in his parents’ basement for a reason—he’d dug himself into such a financial hole he couldn’t even afford to live in his car because it’d gotten repo’d. I’d broken things off when I’d envisioned a future that resembled my mom and dad’s before the divorce. The other had started acting like my oldest brother, Matt, after our parents had divorced. Brash tempered with little self-control. A toxic mix. Mattie might’ve matured into a decent guy, but the guy I’d been dating hadn’t seemed interested in changing.

I refused to be the girl who waited for a man to change.

Now there was Aiden. Controlled. Responsible. Dedicated. Hardworking. We’d been dating for two months. He’d taken me to restaurants that I’d never been to despite being born and raised in Billings. When I’d mentioned how interested I was to try real Wagyu beef, he’d flown us in the company jet to Seattle. Last week, he’d flown us to Chicago. We ate at restaurants that I’d been underdressed for in a simple black dress. The women around me had worn diamonds that cost as much as all my college degrees combined, and we’d had wine that was older than my mom.

When I gushed to Mom, she’d warned me in her smoker’s rumble, You’d better find out if he’s a real diamond or a hunk of coal, Katie-bear, before it’s too late.

If too late meant hopping into bed with him, that ship had sailed. It had sailed long and hard.

Our first date, he’d kissed me on the doorstep of my apartment building. A long, passionate kiss. Literally swept me off my feet. He’d even growled when he pulled away, like he might heft me over his shoulder and up the three flights of stairs to my bedroom.

The second date had ended with just a kiss, but it’d been a plastered against the door and holy shit is that his erection? kiss.

He’d made his move on the third date, like I’d hoped he would. He’d been respectful and part of me hadn’t expected to hear from him afterward. Had I been too boring? Unadventurous? Would my curves scare him off? The best sex of my life might’ve been his worst.

He’d sent flowers to work the next day. Two dozen red roses.

I was a lilies girl, but two dozen red roses were beautiful and fragrant and made me feel like a princess as much as this trip had.