At least according to Travis, who kept saying it. Repeatedly. The entire four-hour drive to Austin was spent in awkward silence or in conversation about the weather. Maybe he was trying to humor her. She couldn’t be sure. Ever since he swore she was going to be the one to kiss him, all she could do was think about doing just that. Every woman with working eyes probably thought about kissing Travis Lockwood. She glanced over at him in his worn-out jeans and faded Longhorns T-shirt. How he managed to pull off that ugly burnt orange color was beyond her. Maybe it was the spectacular view of his arms that distracted her from the color of his shirt. The large silver watch that wrapped itself around his wrist drew her eyes in. The tanned, muscular forearms kept them there. The tattoo inked on his biceps made her curious and a little breathless. Quarterbacks had nice arms—well, this particular former QB did anyway. Summer didn’t want a casual fling, though.
