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“It has a lot of variety,” he says as he looks over the menu, still holding my hand. The fact that he’s thinking about me and making sure that there’s things to choose from is nice.

And wow, his hand feels so good in mine.

“I love steak,” I admit.

I grew up on a ranch, but I’m not telling him that. We have rules, and I’m following them. He can think I’m a city girl all he wants.

“Me too,” he says, holding the door for me as we enter the restaurant.

We both order steak, baked potatoes, and vegetables. We pull out our phones and make a list of things we can go do.

“Let’s ride that Ferris Wheel we saw back there,” I say, excited as I hold up my phone to show him. Then I wonder aloud, “Wait, are you afraid of heights?”

“Nope.” He shakes his head and takes a bite of his food.

“Oh, they have a mechanical bull at this bar! We could do that!” I say, showing him the picture.

He practically chokes on his food and says, “Okay.”

“Better watch out, Cowboy,” I tease. “I might outride you on a bull, just so you know. I might have secret skills, you never know.”

“Okay.” He nods as he laughs.

After dinner, we have a plan. First stop: the Ferris Wheel. Then the mechanical bull bar.

“It’s pretty cool up here,” I admit as we look down and around the city from our Ferris Wheel. The ride lifts us slowly above the city. Until suddenly Vegas stretches in every direction beneath us.

I squeeze his hand as our seat rocks, and my stomach turns. “Okay, I might not like the heights so much.”

He squeezes it back gently. “I’ve got you.”

The Strip glitters like something out of a movie. Tiny cars. Endless lights. Beau watches my reaction instead of the view.

“What?” I ask, meeting his eyes.

“Nothing. Just making sure you’re okay.” He grins, and his eyes crinkle in the corners when he does.

“You’re staring. Are you sure you’re not a serial killer?” I tease.

“I’m sure,” he says, laughing.

“Definitely staring.”

His grin appears. “You look happy.”

The words hit me unexpectedly. Because I can’t remember the last time someone said that about me. Or the last time I actually felt it. The realization settles in my gut. And for a second, I don’t know what to do with that feeling. Feelings I usually bury under work. But now that I don’t have that, this is…well, a lot. But in a good way.

Thankfully, the wheel starts moving again. Saving me from sorting through those feelings.

By the time we step back onto the Strip, we’re both ready to stop for a drink. “Let’s go bull riding!”

It’s ten o’clock, and we have a big bucket list to get through. Bull riding is up. We wait to get into the bar because apparently everyone wants in. We’re sitting on a concrete planter, surrounded by strangers, when Beau points at a couple arguing on the other side of the sidewalk.

“What do you think their story is?”

I glance over. The woman is waving her arms dramatically. The man looks terrified. “They got married three hours ago.”

His eyes light up. “Keep going.”