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After a week full of charged glances and zero kisses—proving Cam was serious when he said he meant to give me time—he showed up at my house Friday evening in the Star Trek car. He and Ravi exchanged pleasantries while I “finished getting ready.”

Really, I was staring in the mirror, trying to convince myself that seeing my childhood home wouldn’t send Camden running as fast as he could in the opposite direction. Just as I was perpetually shocked by the luxuries of his life, so would he be by the austerity of mine. Would this be what proved to him that I could never measure up? Was this the day the nail in my heart would drive its way home and shatter me?

Buck up, girl. The 99% probability of him dumping you sooner than later was already a foregone conclusion. Paste on a smile and take him to meet your mother, as she requested.

“You ready?” I asked as I slipped out of the guest room, shutting the door behind me.

He and Ravi both faced me, but Cam rose from his seat, smiling. He pecked a kiss on my cheekbone.

God, he looked expensive. He wore a white-collared shirt with a tie, a sweater, and a butter-soft brown leather jacket. His tailored pants fit him to perfection, and his shoes shone like polished onyx.

“I said you could dress casually,” I said.

His smile fell, and he looked down at himself. “Is…this not casual?”

“You look like you’re going to a polo match.”

Ravi snorted.

“You know she lives in a trailer park, right?” I said. “And not one of the quaint ones with the green grass and the pretty trees and the colored mobile homes all lined up in a row. We’re going to one where there are more weeds than grass, and people use tinfoil as curtains, and front yards are the primary storage places for car parts and appliances that no longer work.”

Ravi tactfully snuck out of the room.

Camden gave a half-laugh. “Okay. So how do I fix it?”

I looked at his outfit again and decided to undress him. First, his leather jacket, then the sweater. A suggestive smile came over his face when I loosened his tie.

“Shut up,” I said, laughing.

“You keep taking off my clothes, and I might get the wrong impression.”

“Yeah?” I slid the tie from his collar and unbuttoned his top button. And then—for good measure—the second one, too. “What impression would that be?”

“That you’re interested.”

“I thought that was obvious.” I might have thrown in a provocative, lingering glance. His eyes went predatory, and I smirked as I tugged his shirt from his pants, letting it cover his expensive belt. Maybe I brushed my fingers against his abdomen. Who could say?

“Nothing about you is obvious, Shay Honeycutt,” he said in a low voice.

I ran my hands through his hair, mussing it, and his lips dipped to mine as if he couldn’t quite control himself. The kiss was brief, but it tingled all the way to my toes.

When I was done, he still looked expensive, but more subtle. He was also wild-eyed and staring at me like a starving man, and I had to force myself not to jump on him—literally.

Outside the house, a cool wind settled over me. I pulled my sweater over my hands. He appeared unfazed, even without his jacket, and headed straight for the Star Trek car.

I paused halfway there. “Maybe we should take my car.”

He turned, eyes narrowing. “Are you ashamed of me?” he asked with a bite of suspicion.

“No, of course not! It’s just— I already get glares from the neighbors when I come home because they all think I’m a snob. If I bring a fancy Shepherd into their midst and flaunt his fancy things, I’ll never live it down.”

“I’m not fancy.”

“You are the fanciest thing I’ve ever touched.”

Laughing, he crossed his arms. “I should be offended, but I kind of like the idea of you flaunting me.”

I pulled my keys from my purse and dangled them. “Want to drive?”