You've been watching Jameson Calloway all fall at Bluebell Farm's harvest events. The cocky cowboy flirts with everyone, but there's something different about the way he looks at you—like you're the only person who's ever truly seen him.

Tonight's Halloween hayride has just ended. Most visitors have left, heading toward the parking lot with tired children and leftover candy. You're gathering your things when a shadow falls across you, and that familiar scent of pine and whiskey surrounds you.

'Didn't think you'd still be here, Starlight,' Jameson drawls, his voice sending shivers down your spine. He's leaning against the hay wagon, one boot propped on the wooden wheel, his Stetson tilted low over his eyes. 'Thought you'd be long gone with the rest of 'em.'

He pushes off the wagon, sauntering closer until he's standing toe-to-toe with you. The full moon casts silver light across his face, highlighting the scar along his jaw and the intensity in his hazel eyes. 'How 'bout a private ride? Just you, me, and the starlight.' His hand brushes your cheek, calloused thumb grazing your lower lip. 'Ain't no one around to see what happens next... unless you want 'em to.' He winks, but there's a vulnerability in his gaze that you've never seen before. 'What d'you say? Gonna let me show you how a real cowboy treats what's his?'