Page 2

CHAPTER TWO

SUTTON

On any other Saturday night, my big plans for the evening would’ve been to spend it in an empty house with my current read and my vibrator.

Possibly at the same time.

Okay, probably at the same time.

Unfortunately, moving across the country thwarted those plans.

Being stuck in a hotel room with my teenage daughter meant there was absolutely no fun in my future.

Especially when that teenage daughter was cursing my very existence for dragging her away from the favorite city she’s ever lived —never mind she’d said that about literally every place we’d ever called home.

Laurel groaned as soon as we walked into our room.

“Seriously? We have to share a bed?”

I walked past her, rolling my suitcase behind me, and glanced around the space.

With its crisp, clean lines and modern touches, this hotel was a step up from our last one.

But it did, in fact, have only one bed.

“I thought we loved when that happened.”

“Ugh, in books .” She fell back onto the bed, her eye roll loud enough for me to hear.

“Not with my mother.”

Sixteen-year-old attitude was going strong with this one.

“You heard the guy at check-in—with the event happening, we only managed to snag this room because of a last-minute cancelation.”

And thank god for that because if I had to spend even five more minutes in a car with Laurel, I wasn’t sure both of us would make it out alive.

Bracing my hands on either side of her shoulders, I leaned over her on the bed and shot her a mischievous smile.

“You wanna crash whatever fancy sportsball thing is happening in the ballroom?”

“We hate sportsball.”

“All the more reason to crash it. I’d be willing to bet gala plus sportsball equals good food.”

“Silence plus solitude equals a good night.”

Becoming a mom at sixteen hadn’t been easy, but I loved my daughter more than life itself.

Would crack open my chest and rip out my own heart if she needed it.

But spending two days in a car with her and her shitty attitude was pushing me to my limit.

What I wouldn’t give for a roll of duct tape right now.

“Hey, I have a great idea,” I said with false cheer as I pushed to stand.

“I’m gonna head down to the bar for a while and give you some privacy for your existential crisis. Sound good?”

“Still living in Atlanta would sound good.”

“Great! I’ll work on getting that time spinner up and running while I’m enjoying a lemon drop.” I hooked my oversized purse over my shoulder and strode toward the door.

“Lock this behind me.”

“I know , Mom. God . I’m not a child.”

The look I shot her screamed more than my words ever could.

Unfortunately, her attention was focused solely on her phone, so the effect was wasted.

I stepped out into the hall, the door shutting behind me, and leaned against the wall.

Breathing out a deep sigh, I let my head fall back and closed my eyes, waiting until I heard the lock click into place.

“Mouthy little shit,” I muttered, sidestepping a guy coming out of the door across the way.

“Sorry, not you.”

Without waiting for him to reply, I hooked my bag higher on my shoulder and strode toward the elevator.

I might not have been able to have any fun with my vibrator tonight, but at least I had my book with me.

Getting lost in a fictional world for a while was exactly what I needed.

I’d park myself at the bar for an hour or two, give both Laurel and me some breathing room, and head back up to try to get a good night’s sleep.

We had several hours in the car tomorrow before we’d arrive at our new home.

And then came the unpacking.

My daughter was just going to love that.

While moving wasn’t new for us, her attitude definitely was.

And I couldn’t say I was a fan.

I also couldn’t blame her.

Switching high schools halfway through wasn’t ideal, but I didn’t have much of a choice.

As a travel nurse, I had to go where the job was, and I couldn’t always choose where I wanted that to be.

I was just lucky a good friend from college had been looking to hire a nurse when my last contract ended.

It was serendipitous.

Yeah, Starlight Cove, Maine, was a far cry from Atlanta.

And yeah, it was smaller than any other place we’d lived…

ever. But I wasn’t sure that was so bad.

I wouldn’t mind a slower life for us.

One where it didn’t take an hour to drive ten miles.

One where I didn’t have to wonder what part of the city she was lost in on a Friday night.

One where I could enjoy these last two years of having her home with me before she flew the nest for good.

It’d been just the two of us for so long, I wasn’t sure what I’d do when I no longer had that.

I wanted to soak up every second I could.

“What I’m not gonna do is cry tonight,” I mumbled to absolutely no one as the elevator dinged and the doors opened.

As I stepped inside, I tugged my book out of my purse…

and somehow managed to fumble a move I’d done a hundred times before.

The corner of the paperback got caught on my strap, flew out of my hand, and landed on the floor, skidding to a stop in front of a pair of polished black men’s dress shoes.

“Shit, sorry. I don’t usually assault people with books. At least, not at the first meeting.”

The man reached down and picked up the paperback, flipping it so the title faced him before extending it to me.

“ Fake Dating Her Ex …good choice.”

His voice was deep, just a low rumble that somehow perfectly matched his appearance.

Dark hair, harsh brows slanting over whiskey eyes, and a short beard that did absolutely nothing to hide his sharp jaw or those full, sinful lips.

Taking the book from his outstretched hand, I raised a brow.

“Read a lot of romance, do you?”

“Depends on what you define as a lot.”

Uh…

for this man? Anything more than zero would be a lot.

He wasn’t exactly the poster child for a smut slut.

I stepped to the other side of the elevator and took him in.

He was huge, with shoulders roughly the width of a truck and thighs the size of tree trunks, all encased in a fancy suit that probably cost more than a nice used car.

It didn’t take much to deduce he was more than likely on his way to or from that sportsball thing happening tonight.

I glanced at the floor panel to his right, noticing the bar/ballroom level was lit up—to, then.

He was going to be as out of place there as I would be, considering I was still wearing my standard driving uniform that basically amounted to pajamas.

Tuxedo or not, he looked like he belonged in a secluded cabin in the forest, being pissed off about all the wood he had to chop rather than attending a gala.

And he definitely didn’t look like he read romance.

“More than three?” I asked.

He lifted his gaze to mine, and jesusfuck .

I felt that all the way to my toes and every single forgotten inch in between.

That was…new.

I didn’t usually have that sort of reaction to a man.

Not after mere minutes.

And certainly not after coming out of a spectacularly shitty relationship where just the thought of men pissed me off.

“In a week?” he asked.

My brows lifted. “Um…I was thinking in a year.”

“Then by that definition, yeah.” He pressed himself against the far wall, hands tucked in his pockets, face impassive.

Though his gaze…it kept straying to mine.

Almost as if he couldn’t help himself.

Even standing slouched as he was, he positively dwarfed the space.

There was no denying just how imposing this man was.

But something about the way he was holding himself told me he was trying very hard not to be.

I cleared my throat.

“Well, Mr. Seven Foot Tall, it’s not very often you meet a guy who looks like you who happens to read romance.”

“Six-six.” His lips twitched—there and gone so quick, I wasn’t sure I hadn’t imagined it—and he glanced down at the book I held.

“And, to be fair, I haven’t read that one. But my mom loved it.”

“Your mom, huh?” I couldn’t keep the surprise out of my voice.

“You guys have book club?”

“She’s a librarian. And a great cook. Sometimes I don’t have a choice.”

The way he said it, all business, no inflection, brought a smile to my lips.

It’d been a long time since a man had been able to disarm me long enough to do that.

Even longer since I’d felt regret over not being able to see where this could possibly lead.

Alas, it wasn’t in the cards.

The elevator came to a stop, and he reached out, holding the doors open for me.

“Enjoy your book.”

“Enjoy your gala.” I laughed as his scowl only deepened, and I stepped out of the elevator, shooting him a smile over my shoulder.

“I bet the food will be good, at least. Eat something delicious for me.”

Then, without a backward glance, I headed toward the bar.

I was ready for a drink.

And to get lost in a world where a woman like me would’ve spent the night with Mr. Tall, Dark, and Grumpy instead of by herself with only a book boyfriend for company.

Apparently the universe had taken my silent desire as permission that I didn’t want to be alone and dropped the worst of mankind in my path.

I’d been at the bar for fifty minutes, and this random guy had been on my ass for forty-five of them.

I hadn’t even gotten a chance to open my book before he’d sidled up to the stool next to mine, shooting me a leering smile and diving straight into a single-sided conversation.

One I’d tried subtly and not so subtly to put an end to.

Normally, I’d just up and leave—I wasn’t in the habit of allowing men my company if I didn’t want to—but this wasn’t a normal situation.

It hadn’t taken me long to realize he was the same guy I’d seen in the hallway outside Laurel’s and my room.

Because of course he was.

My one talent in life was my ability to attract some real losers.

Since my teenage daughter was in our room, alone, I had no intention of leading him back there.

Which meant I was stuck.

The bar was about half full, scattered with an eclectic mix of people—a few in jeans, several who’d obviously escaped from the gala…

and exactly no one dressed in pseudo pajamas, save for me.

Unfortunately, even that hadn’t stopped Chief Creep from descending.

I’d kept a napkin over my drink the entire time because I didn’t trust that he wouldn’t slip something into it if I even blinked.

I was giving him the coldest shoulder known to humankind, but he just would not take the hint.

And I was really damn tired of this game.

I’d been down this road before, and I had no intention of returning so soon.

“C’mon, you know you wanna come back to my room.” He gave me a slow perusal, the sweep of his gaze like slime coating my skin.

“A pretty girl like you shouldn’t be alone tonight.”

Fuck me .

While all his other talk amounted to please, please come home with me, this was the first time he’d laid it out so clearly.

I needed to be done with this, and I needed that now .

Unfortunately, the bartender was otherwise occupied, and the closest patron was four stools away, so I didn’t have any hope of catching their attention.

I was on my own.

I scanned the bar as Chief Creep leaned closer, his rancid breath sweeping across my skin.

My mind was spinning a thousand miles an hour as I darted my gaze around the space, trying to find a way out of this.

Preferably one that didn’t end with my body being found on the ten o’clock news.

There were a few men in tuxedos clustered together who I assumed to be sportsball players, but I wasn’t about to dive into a group.

And then I spotted him .

Mr. Tall, Dark, and Grumpy stood at the entrance of the bar, an imposing sight even from across the room.

Had he somehow gotten bigger in the hour since we’d met in the elevator?

Or was it just the air he was putting off now?

He surveyed the room, a scowl firmly in place, mouth set in a hard line, brows drawn down.

His tuxedo was still impeccable, save for the tie now hanging loosely around his neck, the top couple buttons of his shirt undone.

But even those helped in broadcasting a silent, stay the fuck away from me if you know what’s good for you .

The problem was, I didn’t know what was good for me.

Even surrounded by other hulking players, he was, without a doubt, the biggest, meanest-looking motherfucker in here.

And he was exactly what I needed.

“Who says I’m alone?” I barely spared Chief Creep a glance before grabbing my bag, sliding off my stool, and heading straight for the man I’d been certain I would never see again.

This might be a mistake.

This probably was a mistake.

But my internal alarm had been blaring from the moment Rancid Breath Douchebag had sat down next to me, when it hadn’t so much as beeped while in an enclosed elevator with Mr. Tall, Dark, and Grumpy.

Besides, a guy who listened to his mom dish about her latest romance novel couldn’t be all bad.

Could he?

I’d taken only three steps toward him when his gaze landed—and stayed—on mine.

He watched my approach with an intense focus I felt all the way to my toes.

And I had absolutely no business liking that as much as I did.

I didn’t slow my steps, worried if I did, I’d second-guess just what the hell I was doing and be right back at square one—or worse, with Chief Creep following me to my room.

I had pepper spray somewhere in my bag, but I’d rather not have to spray a random guy outside my hotel room and deal with the cops tonight.

The space around Mr. Tall, Dark, and Grumpy was sparse, as if no one else had the audacity to step too close.

But I did.

I stepped right up to him, craning my head back to meet his eyes.

He didn’t say anything, but he studied me intently, trying to get a read on what was happening.

I rested one hand on the hard expanse of his chest. His skin was warm beneath my touch, his heart thrumming in a steady beat.

With my other hand, I reached up and wrapped my fingers around the nape of his neck, all too aware that the only reason I was able to tug his face toward mine was because he let me.

He silently studied me the entire time, but those deep whiskey eyes were broadcasting everything he wasn’t saying.

Namely, just what in the fuck was I doing?

Great question. Getting Chief Creep off my ass was my main objective.

But doing that while also making him think this beast of a man was mine?

That Laurel and I would be under his protection?

That would be the cherry on top.

Because no one in their right mind could look at this guy and think he’d do anything less than irrevocably fuck you up for just looking the wrong way at what was his.

When our mouths were so close I could feel his breath with each exhale, I whispered, “Please play along.”

And then I steeled my nerves, closed my eyes, and pressed my lips against this stranger’s.