"Holy s.h.i.t, you have a Shelby Mustang!" I gasp as I close the door behind me. Will stares down at me and then starts to laugh.

"It's the same car I drove you home in after the party, Meg."

I blink up at him and then gaze longingly at his car. I rode in a Shelby and don't remember? Impossible!

"Please tell me I didn't throw up in it."

"Thankfully, no." He grins down at me and tucks a pink strand of my hair behind my ear.

"Where are we going?" I ask as he follows me down to his spectacular car and opens the door for me.

"I thought we'd just go to a place downtown for dinner and maybe take a walk by the water front."

Instead of sitting in the leather seat, I walk to the rear of the car and gaze at the snake emblem, the chrome, h.e.l.l, even the tires are pretty.

The car is black, all black, with tinted windows, making the chrome look even shinier. I feel my eyes gla.s.s over and I sigh.

"Meg?"

"Huh?" I glance up into Will's amused blue eyes and shake my head ruefully. "I'm sorry, what?"

"Are you okay?" he asks with a chuckle and moves to me, settles his big hand at the small of my back, and between his touch and this car, I can't breathe.

"This is a Shelby." I state, as if that explains everything.

"I know," he responds. "Are you a motor-head?"

"No, I just really, really love your car." Jesus, I love his car. This car is s.e.xy as h.e.l.l. Suddenly, I picture myself going down on him in the front seat as he drives and I gasp, squeeze my thighs together and run my fingers through my loose hair.

"What just went through that amazing head of yours?" he asks, his eyes narrowed, as he grips my shoulders and turns me to face him. I swallow.

"Nothing." I lie.

"You're a horrible liar."

"Let's just say, this car is really s.e.xy, and does things to me," I respond, not looking him in the eye.

"Really," he drawls and smiles widely. He takes a tiny step closer, and tips my face up to look at him. His other hand snakes around my waist and he starts to lower his face to mine, but I step quickly out of his embrace.

"Don't get any ideas." I warn him and walk over to the open pa.s.senger door. He steps in front of me, blocking my way.

"Why not?" he asks.

"This is only a first date," I remind him.

"So?"

"So, no ideas, Montgomery." I try to look stern, but can't help but smile at him. He's just too... Will.

"Don't tell me you have that stupid girl three-date-rule?"

I shrug, but don't answer.

h.e.l.l yes, I have a three date rule!

"Can we count the engagement party as the first date?" he asks as he steps back and allows me to slide down into the plush seat.

I'm sitting in a Shelby! Holy f.u.c.k.

"No," I respond when he gracefully lowers his long frame into the driver's seat.

"But I took you home," he reminds me with a sly grin.

"But you didn't take me there, so it wasn't a date."

"What about yesterday at the hospital?" he asks and merges into traffic.

"Anything that includes my job is not a date." I laugh and run my hands along the dashboard. "This car is my every fantasy," I whisper.

Will's head whips around and he stares at me, his jaw dropped and then he starts to laugh, a huge, loud belly laugh and I join him, giggling like crazy.

"Great, so now you're just using me for my car."

"You'll live." I shrug. "So, how is Jules? I haven't had a chance to call her since the party."

"She's good. Busy with their new business, and planning the wedding. I don't know why they think they have to get married so soon." He frowns and I want to run my fingers through his messy hair, but link my fingers together and keep them firmly in place in my lap.

"Did they set a date?"

"Yeah, for early October."

"Why so soon?" I ask, surprised. That's only a couple months away.

"Who knows? This is my sister we're talking about. She said her whole life she wasn't interested in getting married, then she falls for a guy and now she can't get married fast enough." He frowns and pulls the car into a parking garage.

"Maybe she's just ready to get married."

"I guess."

"Don't you like Nate?" I ask and turn in my seat to watch his face.

"I do. He's a good guy, and he obviously loves my sister." He backs into a parking s.p.a.ce and I smile widely at him.

"What?" he asks.

"So, you're just being an overprotective big brother then?" I tease him.

He frowns and then grins. "Yeah, can't help it."

"Jules is good, Will." I pat his thigh and he captures my hand in his and kisses my knuckles, one by one, and just like that my stomach clenches and my breath catches and I wonder how the f.u.c.k I'm going to hold out for two more dates.

"Your fingertips have little callouses on them," he murmurs.

"It's from the guitar."

His blue eyes meet mine. "I'd love to hear you play sometime."

"Sometime," I respond and grin.

"I love that dimple in your cheek." He leans in and kisses my dimple softly once, then again and backs away, still clutching my fingers, to pin me with those fiercely blue eyes. "Do you feel this too?" he whispers.

"Oh, yeah," I immediately respond. It's futile to deny it. I want him so much it hurts.

"Good. Come on, I'm hungry." Will climbs out of the low car and briskly walks around to the pa.s.senger side, opens my door, and offers his hand to help me out.

"I seriously love this car."

"I'll let you drive it home," he replies and links our fingers together.

"Seriously?" I gape up at him as he leads me down to the street.

"Sure, why not?"

"It's a Shelby." I state again, slowly, so he can understand the words coming out of my mouth.

"Honey, it's just a car."

"It's a Shelby." I shake my head. "I'm not driving it. If I wreck it, I can't afford to replace it."

"Do you get into many car accidents?" He narrows those eyes down at me and I giggle.

"No. But with my luck, this would be the time."

"You'll be fine. Besides," he winks down at me, "I have insurance."

He's so confident. His voice, the way he walks, the way he carries himself. So confident.

And s.e.xy as all get out.

That a.s.s alone should be illegal.

But I really love his shoulders and arms. He's perfectly sculpted, shoulders are broad, arms so strong. h.e.l.l, he lifted me like I was nothing.

And, thinking about that makes me go wet again.

Calm down, Meg. This is only Date One.

He's led me into a sports bar in downtown Seattle. I recognize it. It's upscale, full of professional sports memorabilia, televisions on various sports shows and games, and large, dark furniture.

Given the time of day, the place is pretty full of business men and other locals unwinding after a long workday.

Will leads me to a booth and sits opposite of me.

"Have you been here before?" he asks.

"A few times, yeah."

"They make a good burger here."

"You eat burgers?" I ask, surprised. I would think that with his rigorous training schedule he'd be on a strict diet.

"Not too often, but yeah, I do. I burn a lot of calories every day, so I pack a lot of food in." He offers me a menu.

Instead of reading it, I gaze over at him and he meets my eyes. I run my eyes over his face, those broad shoulders and arms, and down to his long-fingered hands. He's delicious in a gray t-shirt and jeans. When my gaze returns to his, his face is sober, his eyes molten blue, and I can't tell if he's p.i.s.sed or just really, really turned on.

"Keep looking at me like that and the f.u.c.king three date rule will be out the window, Megan."

Make that really, really turned on.

"Hey guys, what can I getcha?" A waitress sets waters down before us and takes out her notebook.

"What would you like?" he asks me without looking at the waitress, his eyes still on fire.

"Whatever you're having is fine," I respond and swallow hard.

"Two cheeseburgers with fries, please."

"Hey, you're Will Montgomery!" The waitress exclaims.

And before my eyes, Will transforms. He smiles his c.o.c.ky smile, his eyes calm, and he immediately slides into celebrity mode. I've seen it on TV, but this is my first glimpse in person.

"How are you, sugar?" he asks her.

"I'm great. Good to see you again." She winks at him and walks away, but our table is immediately surrounded by other patrons who overheard the waitress and now want to talk to Will and get his autograph.

"Hey, Montgomery! Great to meet you!"

And for the next fifteen minutes, Will doesn't falter. He's charming and smooth, answers questions, poses for pictures a many of which I'm asked to snap a and works the crowd in his arrogant, I'm-a-football-star way.

And completely ignores me.

It p.i.s.ses me the f.u.c.k off.

In the middle of all the hoopla, I slide out of the booth and leave. Will doesn't even look my way.

I wonder how long it'll take him to discover that I'm gone?

Ten minutes, and about two-cab-ride-miles away, my phone rings.