“Thank you, Josh,” she said, placing her eggnog down and crossing to where he stood. Grady tensed as she slipped an arm around his waist, her side melting into his as a deeply contented sigh escaped her lips. “It’s…perfect.”

Grady’s pulse kicked and his breath caught and for a moment, he held really still. He wasn’t used to this…to being casually demonstrative with any woman. It wasn’t natural for him to be openly affectionate, and yet, part of him yearned to give in to it, too.

“Suzanne.” Her mother gave her an indulgent smile as she shook her head. “I don’t know if you know this yet about our daughter, Grady, but she tends to be a little emotional.”

Grady wasn’t sure if Suzanne’s mother was being intentionally critical or was clueless to how her words came across, but he felt offended on Suzanne’s behalf. There were far worse failings in life than being emotional. He’d spent more than a decade of his life fighting against ideals that could have done with a lot more fucking empathy.

Hell, he’d have thought that was exactly the kind of things an artist needed in spades.

Suzanne had annoyed, harassed, and irritated him. She was too talkative and too…touchy-feely. She’d invaded his space and his privacy. She’d pleaded, cajoled, begged, then finally both bribed and blackmailed him into being her fake rancher boyfriend. But her reasons were altruistic. Her heart was in the right place. And nobody got to criticize her, particularly when it was wrapped up in some kind of affectionate silly-little-Suzy remark.

Not even her mother.

Slipping his arm around her, Grady pulled her in a little closer. “I know,” he murmured, glancing down at her. She chose that moment to glance up, and she blinked as if she was surprised to find him watching her. Her lips parted, and his gaze was drawn to her mouth. “It’s one of the many things I like about your daughter,” he said and smiled. “Reminds me of my mom.”

Grady wasn’t sure why he’d said that—it just slipped out. He wished in an instant he could take it back, but then she smiled at him like he’d just given her the biggest compliment, and his chest felt like it was being squeezed in a press—and he kissed her. He might have kept it brief had it not been for that soft little satisfied noise in the back of her throat compelling him to linger.

It wasn’t like the kiss from earlier, the one where he’d come from the barn and seen her for the first time since they’d made out last night. That time, his whole body had flushed with awareness and edginess, and an unreasonable kind of need to rid himself of those disconcerting feelings, to pass them on, had driven his feet to where she stood.