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“You wanted to hit the road with me to see the world. I’ve been so focused on having an ordinary experience, talking to regular people, staying in regular places. I haven’t given you a chance to see the other side.”

“The other side?”

He glances over and then grips my thigh. Heat thrills through my hips.

“You ever stay in a hotel so nice, you can’t book it online?” he asks.

My stomach flip-flips. “No. You know that.”

“Alright. Let’s do it.”

I smile, surprised to realize I want that. Never in my entire life have I been spoiled by luxury. I’ve never had the desire or even thought about it longer than a minute or two. But maybe…I might like to be someone different for a night. And if I’m going to be different with anyone in the whole world, I want it to be Coen Taylor.

“Yeah?” I whisper. “I don’t know if I’m dressed for all that.”

He takes his phone from the console. “Open DoorDash and schedule a delivery to the hotel.”

“Excuse me?” I say, taking the phone. “Are you trying to impress me?”

He shrugs, smiling faintly. “All my credit card info is already in there. I ordered a couple toiletries already. Pick out a dress, shoes, whatever the fuck you want, baby.”

My jaw is on the truck floor.

“What?” he says.

“I feel like a female bird,” I laugh. “You can stop strutting. I’m already won over.”

He laughs, putting his hand on my thigh again. “Go on,” he says. “And put some lingerie in there too.”

My brows rise to my hairline. “Oh, really? You think you’re getting lucky tonight?”

He looks over for a second, light flashing across his gorgeous face. “Baby, I’d feel lucky just getting to see you in it.”

What the hell has gotten into him? Smiling so hard, it hurts my mouth, I look down at his phone, because I’m burning up, cheeks hotter than the desert we just drove through. If my calculations are correct, I slept for about four hours, which means he’s been thinking about something real hard for all that time. His entire vibe changed.

Or maybe we’re just getting closer to home for him.

Maybe I’m about to see the other side of Coen, the industry side.

That’s too heavy, too complicated of a thought to dwell on right now. He’s not in the mood either. I bring up the app and hit one of the icons that looks like a fancy boutique at the top of the screen. A dozen pieces appear, and I gasp aloud.

“Don’t look at the prices,” he says. “Just hit that buy button.”

I pause and then decide…what the hell? He has money.

“Alright then,” I say. “I guess I have to put out for this.”

“Nah, you just have to let me eat that pussy. I don’t care what happens after that.”

A hot flush comes in another wave. God, he is something else when he gets in a mood like this. Shaking my head, I start scrolling until I find the perfect little cowl neck black dress that will sit right below my ass. I’ve never worn anything so daring. Well, I think tonight is the night. I put it in my cart and then scroll until I find a pair of pumps. After that, of course, I have to add in body glitter, tanner, razors, lotion, hair products, a curling iron. It’s never as simple as getting a new dress. When I hand the phone back, I know that price tag is higher than the skyscrapers in the distance.

He glances at the screen, flicking his thumb.

“I don’t see any lingerie,” he says, handing it back. “Get something I can take off with my teeth.”

“Excuse me?” I’m giggling, flustered, and shocked all at once. There’s also a little dawning realization.

Is this who he really is? When he’s not all worn down and exhausted?