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"Thank you," I whisper back, gratefully sinking into the seat.

"Thanks for inviting me up, Doug," Sam says as he finishes tuning and strums a few chords. "My fellow songwriters, normally I would never hit the stage without rehearsing first. And I would certainly not try a stripped-down version of a song without preparation." He looks around the room, grinning. "But since I've been coming here for years, apparently we’re all friends, and you're going to forgive me when I inevitably screw up." Everyone laughs, then quiets down again.

Sam looks directly at me, making everyone else look too. “I wrote this song before I met my special someone. But now, most of it is about her." His dark eyes sparkle. "I honestly can't wait to write more songs about her. This one's called ‘I Love Women in Blue’."

As he begins to sing, strumming gently, it's as if I've never heard the song before. The radio edit is incredible, but this acoustic version is extremely different. Every syllable, every note, feels like a secret message meant only for me. It's oddly intimate and private, despite the room full of people watching as Sam sings while looking directly at me for at least three quarters of the song.

I don't know whether I'm melting or burning up. Whether my shyness is imploding or I'm so touched I could explode. I force myself to breathe evenly, determined not to go to pieces in front of all these people.

When the song ends, there's a few seconds of silence before a burst of enthusiastic applause. Doug approaches the stage, beaming. "Hey folks, do you think we can persuade Sam to stick around and talk to us about songwriting for a while?"

Sam hands back the guitar, shaking his head. “I'll happily do a full workshop someday, but I'm not going to steal Kellen's thunder." He places a hand on his stomach. "And you wouldn't be able to hear me over the rumbling in about two minutes anyway." The crowd laughs. "Thanks for listening and have a good night, folks. Hope to see you soon."

Sam strides toward me, takes my arm to help me up, then we stroll out of the music store with all eyes on us, not to mention several cameras.

A light rain has started, so Sam takes off his jacket and drapes it over our heads, keeping an arm around me protectively as we walk to the car. I love that even with the rain he doesn't speed up but matches my pace perfectly. If this weren't such a wild, impossible situation, he's exactly what I would want in a boyfriend.

My phone beeps as Sam drives us to the restaurant.

Natalie: Paige from Web News Kingsville mentioned last night's show at the Gilmour Gallery. There's some gorgeous footage of you two. Great work!

There's a link to a video, but I wait until Sam parks so we can watch it together.

The clip opens with an outside shot, Paige speaking in a voiceover about the history of the gallery and giving details about the two artists currently showing. The camera pans across the paintings, then cuts to the crowd.

I gasp as it cuts again to a closeup of Sam with his arm around me, gesturing to the clock piece as we discuss it. "The opening was attended by, among others, musician Sam Silverton," the voiceover continues. "Sam has recently finished an extended tour and seems to be relaxing in Kingsville for a bit before starting work on his next album."

The video ends and Sam grabs my hand. "That was perfect! We totally appear to be a couple." He grins. "For the record, I think we look great together."

"You're right, it was perfect." I’m not sure if I'm looking at this through a PR lens, or my new reality of having a real-life crush on real-life Sam.

He releases my hand with a sigh. "And mission accomplished, they didn't mention the stupid truck thing once. I still can't believe that happened."

"Um…" I hesitate. "You obviously do not have to tell me, but I can't help but be curious about that whole incident."

"Shit." He turns to face me. "Yeah. That requires an explanation. I meant to tell you yesterday, but it slipped my mind."

He reaches out and threads his fingers through the back of my hair, pulling us together for a soft, gentle kiss. It's quick, but still makes me tingle all the way down to my knees.

Sam leans back, shaking his head. "I’m Sorry. You're so pretty it's distracting." He clears his throat. “My sister Carrie and I are…estranged, I guess. We have nothing in common, and she thinks I'm a flake. She's super analytical. I'm creative. Oil and water, you know?"

"Sure."

"Still, I try to get together with her every few months to run errands or something, just to keep us talking. I had bought a bunch of groceries and was putting them in the truck. The bag broke and a huge can fell out, landing smack on my instep." He winces and looks at his foot ruefully. “I was wearing canvas sneakers. It hurt like hell."

He sighs heavily. “Anyway, I grabbed the side of the truck, cursing a blue streak. Carrie jumped because she was so surprised by my sudden foul language, then actually stifled a laugh." Sam looks at me sadly. "Whoever took that video manipulated the audio to make it sound like I punched the metal. They also added a loud gasp that made Carrie sound horrified, which then made her laughter look like crying. Worst, they changed my muttered cursing to make it sound like I was yelling at her." His eyes are haunted. “The bad boy rocker turned love song writer screaming curses into a woman’s face is not a good look.”

I reach for his knee. "Can't you get your sister to come forward and tell the real story?"

“No. She hates that I'm in the spotlight because she worries that it might shine on her. She's painfully shy. A total loner. It was a miracle I got her to come out shopping with me at all. Everything was going so well until I spilled the beans…right out of the bag.”

We burst out laughing together. I'm not sure who leans in first, but suddenly we’re kissing frantically, his hand moving around my hip, my fingers clutching at his bicep and shoulder. There's not much room in the sports car, but we caress each other everywhere we can. When his fingertips brush the back of my ear, then down the side of my throat, I can’t contain my deep shiver. It makes him hum his approval.

This man is too sexy for me. Too gorgeous for me. Too everything for me. But I can't help wanting him. I've never needed anyone or anything more.

The windows are beginning to steam up when Sam chuckles. "We need to get to dinner before we start a whole new scandal."

"True."