“Last week I saved you from breaking your leg, and we had a really hot good-night kiss, and I walked you to the door. That’s the first date. This is the second.” He parked in the café parking lot. “Are all the men in Turkey, Texas, blind or just stupid?” He turned off the engine, unfastened his seat belt, and turned to face her.

“Why would you ask that?” she asked.

“You’re a beautiful woman, Nessa O’Riley. If you haven’t had a second date in a long time, then there must be something wrong with the cowboys out in that part of Texas.” He got out of the truck and opened her door by the time she undid her seat belt.

He thinks you’re beautiful, she singsonged in her heart. “Thank you for the compliment, but I imagine the second-date thing is more my fault than theirs. There just wasn’t any chemistry, so I didn’t see any reason to go any further.”

He laced his fingers in hers and slowed his stride to match hers. “Well, then, we must have chemistry between us because we’re on a second date.”

“These are pretty unconventional dates,” she said as they entered the café.

“Aren’t those the best kind?” He guided her to a booth with his hand on her lower back.

When she slid into one side, she could still feel the warmth of his hand. No, that wasn’t right. His handprint felt like it was permanently branded into her back, and yes, there was chemistry and lots of it. Sparks danced across the tabletop like drops of water on a hot griddle.

“It’s been months since I’ve been in here,” he said.

“Why?” She peeked over the top of her menu and tried to calm the flutters in her stomach. “The food is great.”

He leaned over slightly. “The waitress, Tilly, keeps hitting on me. She seems like a nice enough person, but I don’t want to start something with a woman . . .” He stopped talking when Tilly started toward them.

“What can I get y’all tonight?” she asked. “Hey, you’re one of the O’Riley cousins. I remember you from a couple of weeks ago. Why hasn’t Flynn called me? Did he lose my number?”

Nessa shrugged. “I really don’t know, but we’ve been very busy.” She made a mental note to tease Flynn about it when she got home.

That’s not nice, her mother’s voice in her head scolded.

No, but he teases me about Jackson, and turnabout is fair play, like you always say, Nessa argued.