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Her mouth falls open.

I grin.

She smacks my chest. "Asshole."

"You're the one jealous about it."

"I hate you."

"No, you don't."

Her eyes flash. She glances toward the Red Dirt, then back at me. "Can we just go home?"

"Yeah." I hold out my hand. "Give me your keys."

Her eyebrows rise.

"You've had two ranch waters."

"And you've had beer."

"Two. And my tolerance is higher."

She studies me suspiciously.

"Jesus, Lainey. Are you gonna take my truck, my hat, and my balls before the night's over?"

A laugh flies out of her. She digs through her purse, pulls out her keys, and drops them into my palm. "If you wreck my truck, I'm taking yours."

"Sweetheart, I can drive a truck."

"So can I."

"I am painfully aware."

Her lips pull into a tiny smile.

I lace my fingers through hers and lead her across the street. Neither of us says much as we climb into her truck. I adjust the seat. "Seriously?"

"What?"

"How do you fit your legs under here?"

She smirks. "My legs fit perfectly."

I grunt and start the engine. "Whatever you say, shorty."

"I will get out."

"You gave me the keys."

She folds her arms.

I grin and pull onto the road.

Snow falls heavier now, sweeping through the headlights in thick white streaks. I keep my speed down. Beside me, Lainey watches the darkness beyond the glass.

We're two roads away when she turns and says, "I'm glad you're driving. This snow is pretty thick."