Eight years earlier...

"So, you're either taking me to a place where you're about to murder me, or..." I scan around the huge stalks of corn as his truck travels down a bumpy path of nothing but grass. "Well, I can't think of another option, really. How am I going? Axe or shovel?"

He laughs, and the sound is like music to my ears. "Ya need to get used to livin in the country, darlin. Your house is in the sticks just like mine."

"Your house?"

Just as I'm about to prompt him further, the stalks of corn fade away, and a beautiful farmhouse comes into view. It's like a scene out of a movie. Ocean blue sky, green grass, and a house so big it looks like the country version of a mansion. There's a wraparound porch with rockers looking out into the countryside, and a huge tree in the front with a tire swing hanging off one of the branches.

"This is your house?" I ask, completely in awe.

He nods and shuts off the engine. "My parents own the farm. It'll be mine one day."

I look at him in disbelief. "All of this. Like, all of it?"

The farm goes on for miles. There are fields and fields of different plants and vegetables, all of which I know nothing about. It smells like fresh manure, the summer breeze whipping my hair all around as I climb out of his truck. The chocolate stain I made only an hour ago on his seat has only gotten worse, but as much anxiety as I'm facing over it, Wyatt told me it was fine, so I'm trying my best to let it go.

"I've grown up here my whole life. It's not as daunting as it looks. Every job, every task that's needed to upkeep it I've been taught to do."

That's so...manly. I'm trying to picture Wyatt moving stacks of hay, or whatever the hell it is people do on a farm, but all I'm getting is a shirtless version of him, which only makes my heart palpitate at an ungodly rate.

"Come on, I want to bring you to the stables." He leads the way down another path, and after taking one final glance at the enormous farmhouse, I pick up my pace to catch up to him, walking side by side between more stalks of corn. "Have you ever ridden a horse?"

My eyes practically bug out of my head. "What? No. I've never even been up close and personal with one, let alone ridden one."

He chuckles, the sound so deep and grainy that I'm practically swooning. "I didn't think so."

Another huge building comes into view, a barn with open doors. We pass bails of hay as we enter, and whatever I thought a stable was going to look like, I was wrong. This barn is elaborate. It's all wood, but it's modern. Sleek. Renovated. A mini-chandelier hangs from the ceiling, cobblestone lining the inside of the barn. I'm still in awe when Wyatt grabs a mason jar from one of the shelves and waves for me to follow him.

We pass by multiple little areas filled with hay, and I gasp when a horse sticks its head out right beside Wyatt, nuzzling its nose up against his cheek. "Hey, dolly girl." He pets her chestnut brown mane, the hair so silky and smooth that it almost seems fake. I'm still standing about six feet away, holding my breath as if the horse will jump out of its room and tackle me. Wyatt notices and smiles. "She's a sweet girl. I promise."

Inching closer, Dolly lets out a blow through her nose, which scares the living shit out of me. I jump about ten feet into the air as Wyatt laughs and grabs onto my hand to bring it to her muzzle. I've never been a pet person. I don't like dogs, and I despise cats, but the minute I touch Dolly, there's a look in her eye that almost seems like she can tell I'm nervous. It's as if she's reassuring me to continue petting her, so I do.

I run my hand along her mane, feeling the shiny hair run through my fingertips, smiling when she leans into my hand. She's got this distinct white print on her muzzle that looks oddly like the shape of Texas, but she's so beautiful. I've never seen an animal that's bigger than me, but it isn't scary. It's...majestic. It's so much more special of a moment than I thought it would be.

"Here." Wyatt extends the mason jar out to me. "It's a sugar cube. She loves them."

I grab a cube and tentatively hold it out on my palm, shrieking with glee when I feel her tongue lap it up. It's a foreign sensation, a new experience, and I'm loving every minute of it. "Dolly! You couldn't at least savor it some? Now it's all gone! You're greedy." I look up at Wyatt. "She's greedy."

He nods, his eyes glazing over with an emotion I can't decipher as he stares down at me with a sideways grin. "Want to help me feed the pigs now?"

"Hold on, the pigs? Shouldn't we start off slow? I feel like meeting Dolly was enough for one day, don't you?"

He walks to a separate room in the barn and grabs some boots that go all the way up to his knee. They look like rain boots. "Here," he says, passing me a pair of pink ones. "They're my moms, but they'll probably fit you."

"Why do I need boots?"

He laughs. "Would you just put them on, darlin?"

I don't think I could ever say no to that nickname, so with a sigh of reluctance, I tug on the boots, which surprisingly fit me perfectly, and follow him around back after he grabs a tub off the floor with a handle. It must be heavy because his forearms are flexing as he carries it toward the snorting, which I'm going to assume are the pigs.

"What do you feed them, anyway?" I ask.

He shrugs. "Depends, really. Mainly corn or soybeans."

All in all, there are about ten of them roaming about, and they're a lot noisier than I ever expected them to be. They're running in circles, some fat, some small, and as soon as Wyatt steps foot into the pen they seem to come barreling toward him, their snouts sniffing around the bucket like they're feening. "Alright, alright," he says with a sigh. He goes over to a low, hollowed-out bin of some sort, glancing over his shoulder. "You comin', darlin?'

I grumble and step into the pen as he disperses food into the bin, but when my boots hit the ground, I slip directly into the mud, landing on my ass. Dirt, mud, and god only knows what fly all over me, my hands and outfit completely ruined. Wyatt glances up as if he expected it to happen, an eyebrow raised almost in a challenge.

And then I laugh. I'm laughing so hard that I can't breathe, gripping my sides from how embarrassed I am. There's nothing I can say or do to make this better, so the only thing I can think of to do right now is laugh. If I ruined any chance in hell at being with him then oh well.

"I'm so sorry," I pant, attempting to catch my breath. "I think I got your mom's boots dirty."

He finishes putting out their food and sets the bucket down to come over to help me up, but for whatever reason, I don't feel like being the only one embarrassed, and he's the one that made me get in here in the first place, so I tug him down at full force to have him collapse beside me in the mud, both of our outfits going to shit.

"I thought city chicks didn't like to get dirty?" He asks, his eyes crinkling from how hard he's smiling.

I pick up some mud with my fingers and smear it on his cheek, belly-gut laughing when his mouth drops open in shock. "Maybe I'm not your average city chick."

"Ya know, darlin..." He swipes up mud on his own fingers and smears my nose. "I suppose you're not."

It's a full-fledged mud war now. I'm hitting him at every angle, laughing even harder when I slip again trying to stand up and come crashing down on top of him. He's gripping my sides, the both of us out of breath, and for a moment, I think he's going to kiss me. I think he's going to press his lips against mine right here in this disgusting mud pit, but he lets out a sigh and pulls back. "I really want to kiss you, but I'm not doin' it in a damn mud pit."

He scans my face, then my lips then moves back to my eyes.

"But you want to?" I ask.

"Yes, Macey, I really want to, but my mama raised me better than that. I'm takin' you on a date first." He moves my hair off my shoulder that's slicked down with mud, caressing my cheek with his hand. "But just know that when I do kiss you, it's gonna be real good."

A/N:

Am I the only one with butterflies?

Just me?

I want myself a Wyatt!

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