“I don’t like lying.” His voice was steely with disapproval.

“Yeah, well, you can get in line.”

“You know no good will come of this, right?”

Suzanne nodded. Yeah, she was sure karma would bite her hard on the ass at some point for this deception.

He regarded her for a long moment. “Can you define what your expectations are around me not being able to keep my hands off you?”

Waves of hot prickles marched up her arms at his causal inquiry into the level of intimacy to be expected. Suzanne felt like she was seeing the soldier now—preparing, strategizing. She, on the other hand, was more of a fly-by-the-seat-of-your-pants kinda person. “You know…” Suzanne cleared her throat. “Putting your arm around me, holding my hand, hugging. That kind of thing.”

“Kissing?”

Suzanne blinked at his frankness. Discussing their deception like this in such a clinical way made her feel worse. “Well…there will be mistletoe.”

His gaze dropped briefly to her mouth again like it had earlier. “So just under the mistletoe, then?”

“Not necessarily.” Jesus, if he had to plan out ahead of time the moments he was going to kiss her, then this didn’t bode well. “Just…wherever it feels natural.” He gave her a look that left her in no doubt that kissing her wouldn’t feel remotely natural.

He sure knew how to make a woman feel attractive.

“I don’t know… Just follow my lead, I guess.”

His jaw did that ticking thing again. “I like to lead.”

Suzanne almost laughed out loud but caught it before it erupted from her mouth. “No shit.”

“Twice a day—max.”

She blinked at the clinical thrust of the words. Like he was negotiating the price of cattle or a discount on a new truck. “Sure, you want to set up some times in advance? Say eighteen hundred hours and twenty-two hundred?”

If he detected her sarcasm, it was impossible to tell. This man was the living end.

“Grady…I’m not sure we should be so prescriptive. I think we should aim for more spontaneity, depending on the situation.”

“Twice a day,” he repeated.

She stuck out her chin. If this was a negotiation, then two could play at that game. She was used to haggling her commission price. “Five.”

“Three. And nothing in town. Only here on the ranch. This relationship stays on the ranch.”

Wow. He really did not want to kiss her. “You care what people in town will think?” She’d have thought Grady cared diddly what anyone thought.

“Nope. But I’ve got to live here after you leave, and my private life is nobody’s business.”

Suzanne supposed there was some logic in that. Grady didn’t strike her as the kind of guy who enjoyed public sympathy.

He folded his arms as if it was his final offer. “Take it or leave it.”

“On the mouth.”

Her parents were supposed to think she and Grady were an item—three chaste pecks on the cheek weren’t going to cut it. He hesitated for a moment, then nodded.