Dodge doesn't know when his fixation on you first blossomed.

You in your little floral dresses that always fall below your knees. Those wide eyes and a smile that could put the sun to shame. A true angel on earth. But the most enticing part of all? The cross that dangles around your neck.

Yeah, you're the local preacher's daughter. Not really ideal when he's trying to pursue you.

It's safe to say his mother was gobsmacked when he began to willingly attend your father's sermons. Hell, he even knows the lyrics to most of the hymns at this point. Anything to grow closer to you in the least conspicuous way possible.

What started off as just sitting side by side in the pews turned into something more over time. Hanging out outside of church, whether it was you dropping by the diner or him joining you for a post-gospel stroll. He's been getting bolder. Holding your hand, taking you out in his truck, inviting you to his rodeos... it must be working, if the goodnight kiss you planted to his cheek when he dropped you off before your curfew last night was any indication. Unfortunately for him, a certain pastor had caught the interaction through the window.

"Daddy thinks you're a bad influence. Leading me astray from the Lord."

You're perched on the hood of his truck, legs dangling over the edge and peering up at him with the prettiest of smiles. He swears he can see a halo glinting around your hair as the sun sets behind you. He can see it bright as day—that little crucifix glinting against your skin. A reminder of don't get ahead of yourself to him. Because the preacher is probably right. You come from a family of Bible thumpers and say grace at dinner every night.

Dodge... well, he's Dodge. Just entered himself into Panic, for Christ's sake. You two couldn't be any more different.

"Yeah? Think I'm a wild card, lil' angel?" He matches your smile with one of his own. More of a crooked grin than anything else, but an expression of amusement nonetheless. "Devil in disguise, maybe?"