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“I’ll meet you at the truck,” I tell him.

Rhett’s eyes widen as I shoulder past the women and the rest of the crowd. Once I’m out the front door, I take a deep breath and head straight for my truck.

Rhett is hot on my heels.

“You can’t get bent out of shape every time a fan stops me.”

“Are you serious?” I say, whirling around. “You think that’s why I’m bent out of shape?”

“Isn’t it?”

“No!” I pause. “Okay, yes. A little. How often does that happen?”

“I get stopped all the time. I’m not famous by any means, but people who follow the rodeo know who I am. And a lot of my fans are female.”

“I don’t mean how often do you get stopped. I meant how often do women slip you their number. Because that’s another hard limit for me.”

“You and your damn hard limits.” He purses his lips. “It happens every once in a while.”

“I’m gonna need more than that. Once a week? Once a month?”

“A couple times on the weekends after a show, and once or twice a week if I come into The Broken Boot.”

“Oh.” I give an exaggerated nod. “So we’re talking several times a week.”

“Something like that.”

“And how often do you keep the number?”

He scowls. “Never. I don’t keep their numbers.”

“Really? Because you stuffed Barbie’s number in your pocket.”

Rhett’s lips twitch. “Barbie? That’s cute, Mo,” he says, slipping his hand in his pocket as if to show me there’s nothing there. Except he pulls out the napkin and stares down at it.

His eyes snap to mine. I challenge him with a look.

“I wasn’t going to keep her number.” He wads up the napkin and tosses it in the back of my truck. “What was I supposed to do? Tell her I didn’t want it?”

“Yes! That’s exactly what you should’ve done. You shouldn’t have put it in your p

ocket with your girlfriend standing next to you.”

His eyes soften and he reaches for me. I let him pull me into his arms.

“I’m sorry. I wasn’t thinking. I usually just stick the number in my pocket and throw it away later. I had no intention of calling her; you should know that.”

“I do know that.” I sigh, frustrated at myself for overreacting. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have gotten mad. You’re used to it, but I’m not.”

“They’re just fans, Mo.”

“Not gonna lie, it might take me a little while to get used to other women drooling over my boyfriend.”

“As long as you remember your boyfriend is drooling over you. It’s just like that photo shoot, right? This is part of my job, but nobody has chemistry like us.” Rhett kisses me, opens the door to my truck, and ushers me in. “Let’s go get the dogs, gather our stuff, and head out. We can get you back in time to check on the animals.”

“I’d like that. I miss them.”

“I know you do.”

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