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Chapter One

GRAHAM

I’m not sure what I did in a past life to deserve this, but it must have been something terrible. How much penance did a man have to do to make up for past mistakes? I don’t know the answer, but I hope tonight covers it.

Steph, the woman I’m covering for while she’s on maternity leave, insists that speed dating is a shortcut to finding love. Or, at the very least, a way to meet some new friends while I’m in Carinal Falls. It’s bullshit, but since she met her husband at one of these, she swears they’re the key to finding a happy, healthy relationship.

It’s somehow inspiring and sickening at the same time.

A few nights ago, I had one too many drinks and confided in her that I was looking to settle down. She had the upper hand in the conversation since she stuck to water while I went through several beers. Not that I’d been keeping it a secret, but I didn’t want everyone trying to set me up.

Obviously, I’d been right to try and keep it a secret. All my loose lips got me was a ticket to a gay speed dating night at an overpriced hipster bar. Twelve dates in one hour. That means twelve conversations that start with What do you do for a living and Nice weather we’ve had lately . By the door, a line of people is waiting to sign in with the man holding a clipboard. As I nurse my gin and tonic from my spot at the bar, I ponder making a run for it. No one will ever know.

Except I fully expect Steph to be waiting at my desk in the morning, desperate for details. Could I fake a migraine? Food poisoning? She knows me too well to let me get away with a lie.

A bell dings, and an overly enthusiastic woman steps forward with a microphone. “Hello, singles! I’m so happy you’re joining us for tonight’s speed dating event. We’ve got a great group tonight, and I hope everyone leaves here with at least one phone number.”

Guess I’m stuck. I look around the room expectantly, catching a few eyes from other attendees.

“Everyone will sit according to the number you were given when you came in tonight.”

I glance down at my nametag. There’s a big seven drawn in the corner.

“Those with odd numbers will be on the left-hand side of the tables, and those with even numbers will be on the right. Evens will move each time this bell rings. You only have five minutes for each date, so make the most of it. After everyone has filtered through, we’ll have some time so you can mingle and exchange information. Any questions?” Silence. “Great, then please take your assigned seats.”

I look at the number on my name tag and find seat seven. A skinny, young guy sits down directly across from me and leans forward, resting his chin on his hands. “So, tell me what I need to know about… Graham.” So much worse than I imagined.

“What do you want to know?”

“Hmmmm… what makes you tick?” Oh good, he’s going to talk in clichés the whole time.

“I like helping people and ensuring everyone is given a fair chance at life.” God, I sound like such an asshole.

“Good answer. I personally love creating art.”

“Are you a full-time artist?” He pouts at my question.

“No. I don’t really make any money on it. I need a sugar daddy to care for me so I can paint full-time.” Surely, five minutes have gone by at this point. I look up at the moderator. Somehow, fate is on my side, and the bell dings.

“Well, it was nice to meet you”—I look at the name tag on his chest—“Sammie.”

“You, too, Graham. Find me later if you want to have some fun.” He gives me a flirty wink and slides to the next chair, repeating his exact move to lean forward and cradle his chin in his hands. I remind myself that even if it doesn’t get better, it can’t get that much worse. Please let it not get much worse.

A dark, haired man slips into the seat across from me. He’s almost the opposite of the last guy, with thick muscles and a bushy beard.

“Hi, I’m Graham.” It’ll go faster if I put in a little effort. He shakes my hand reluctantly.

“Marcus.” His gaze goes toward the floor, and I follow it. Is he looking at something specific? I don’t see anything, so maybe he’s nervous.

“So, Marcus, tell me something about yourself that isn’t obvious by looking at you?” Did I mention how much I hate small talk?

“I don’t know if there’s much interesting about me.” He shrugs. “I like to knit.” Okay, he had me there. I wouldn’t peg this big guy as a crafter.

“What kinds of things do you like to knit?”

“Mostly hats. I donate them to places like hospitals for newborn babies or people being treated for cancer.” Fine. That’s incredibly sweet, and he might be exactly my kind of guy. Steph will be thrilled.

“That’s amazing. I bet they appreciate them. I’ve never been very good at craft stuff, but I love seeing what other people create.” He seems to perk up a bit when he sees I’m not making fun of him. The bell dings, and I’m sad to see him go. “Maybe I’ll get to talk to you again at the end of this.” I mean it, too. It’s as much of a surprise to me as anyone else.

He nods and moves on to the next table. The guy who slips in after him immediately has my attention. He’s wearing a well-worn leather jacket that fits him perfectly. “Tyler,” he says, extending his hand toward me and flashing a big smile.

“Graham.”

“Like the cracker?” Like I’ve never heard that one before.

“Like Graham Greene, the novelist. My mom’s a literature professor, so her kids all share names with her favorite writers.”

“I don’t think I know his books, but now I’m curious.”

“Does Tyler come from anywhere?”

“I don’t think so. I think it’s the only name my parents could agree on.”

“Well, it suits you.”

“In what way?” He leans back and stretches his arms overhead. A flash of milky flesh appears on his stomach as his black t-shirt rides up. I lick my lips without thinking and immediately get a bit self-conscious.

“I think it’s the dark hair. It feels very Tyler-like to me.”

“Well, I can’t say I’ve ever heard that before.” It’s probably because my brain couldn’t come up with anything better. All the gears are stuck on that thin strip of skin. The blonde lady dings the bell, clearly for the purpose of fucking with me. That was not five minutes. “I hope you find me for a drink later.”

I nod.

Nod. That’s all I can manage. He slides into the next seat, and my new date shows up. The new guy starts in on his spiel, but I can’t keep my gaze off Tyler. My new date does his best to get my attention, batting his eyelashes and touching my arm. I do my best to feign interest in the discussion, but internally, I count down the minutes until I can buy Tyler a drink.

TYLER

I can feel his eyes on me. Even though I’m three dates down the table, I keep glancing back at Graham. He’s not my type. Sure, he’s gorgeous, but I go for guys who are a bit wilder. Graham’s the first person I’ve met who looks uncomfortable in a pair of jeans. Something tells me he’d prefer to be in a suit right now.

Weird .

Something about his clean-cut look is getting me going tonight. Once this ridiculousness ends, maybe I can talk him into a blow job in the parking lot. I’d say bathroom, but this bar is a little too high-brow for that. Something tells me the staff are used to a much more boring clientele. I really don’t need the cops called on me tonight.

The bell dings, and I flash the bear across from me a big smile. It doesn’t make up for the bad conversation, but at least I won’t come off as a total dick.

A whole hour of this? What kind of sadist plans these activities?

After another thirty minutes, the blonde woman who gave the intro speech gets back on the microphone, and it becomes clear that Extrovert Barbie thinks this is a good time.

“Now that you’ve had your twelve dates, we have time for some mingling. Please be sure to exchange phone numbers with anyone who sparked your interest tonight. If you didn’t find that special someone, come back next time. We’ll have a whole new group of eligible bachelors.” I roll my eyes. How about never? “You’re sure to find that perfect someone.”

I think one time will be quite enough, thank you. Not because I met my soulmate tonight—I didn’t—but because my appearance at this stupid event should appease my friends for at least a few months.

They think I’m not trying hard enough with the dating market. They’re right. There’s a complete lack of effort on my part. By design. I’m happy with my app hookups. Try explaining that to my best friend, who’s disgustingly in love with his new boyfriend. He’s always been big on romance, but now he’s insufferable.

At least now I can check this off the list and buy myself three months of not discussing my abysmal love life. If I go on one date after this, I can probably stretch it out to five or six months. Would a hookup count as a date?

I brush off the guy I’m sitting with— Matt? Mark? —and head for the bar. When I get the bartender’s attention, I turn over one of the tickets I got at the front door in exchange for a local IPA. As soon as the glass is in my hand, I look for Graham. Out of the twelve guys I met, he’s the only one I can tolerate.

Fine, maybe there was a little bit of a spark between us. Not enough to break my rules about dating, but I could still have a little fun tonight.

A streak of jealousy runs through me when I spot him talking to one of the other singles. They’re too comfortable, leaning up against the wall, joking. Graham casually brushes his hand against the other guy’s arm.

I hate it. I can’t be jealous that he’s talking to someone else when I know nothing more than his name. He’s not mine. And isn’t that the fucking point of this whole thing?

Fine . I shove my feelings aside and look around for anyone else who might catch my eye. The bear I spoke to a few minutes ago is nursing a drink near the edge of the room, and I sidle up to him. I can’t quite remember his name, but I’m sure I’ll figure it out. “Hey,” I say as I lean against one of the tall tables nearby.

“Hey. How were your other dates?” He turns toward me and takes a sip of his red wine.

“Not memorable. You?” I lick my lips at… Brandon, according to the name tag I spot when he opens his arms.

“Same, I guess. It’s not really my scene.”

“And where exactly is your scene?” He looks like he came straight from Vermont. He’s got the big biceps and the woodsman scruff. The only thing missing is the flannel shirt.

“Somewhere a little less…” He looks around a bit, his face wrinkling up a bit.

“Pretentious?” I offer. “And not in a good way.” This place is trying way too hard to be cool. It’s like HGTV threw up in here with the mix of reclaimed wood, subway tiles, and wine bottle pendant lights. When did succulents become wall decorations?

“Yeah, that.”

I glance across the room and don’t see Graham. Or the guy he was talking to. My stomach twists. They left. Together. Guess I should’ve expected it. Graham might not be my type, but he’s a catch. I’m sure he had multiple guys begging him for his number. Some of them probably intend to use it for more than a blow job in the parking lot, which is all I was going to offer anyway.

Why do I care? It’s not like I’m here to meet my life partner. All I want is someone to get my friends off my ass. If they happen to help me relax and enjoy the evening, even better. It should not be this hard to find someone to get off with.

“Want to go somewhere a little quieter? Maybe somewhere a little more comfortable?” Brandon sets his empty glass on the bar and slides it away. I give him my best flirty smile and hope my disappointment doesn’t show through. It’s not that he’s not good-looking, he is, but I had my eye on someone else. That’s what I get for hesitating. I console myself with the fact that Graham’s probably not a one-night-stand kind of guy. His whole vibe screams picket fence, two kids, and a golden retriever. The only part of that I would even consider is the dog, but something smaller. Like a beagle.

I gulp down the rest of my beer and nod toward the door. At least I can tell my friends that their efforts weren’t wasted. Go to speed dating? Check. Hook up with a gorgeous mountain man? Double check.

“Oh, are you leaving already?” Graham’s unmistakable voice sends a shiver through my whole body. I turn to find him standing behind me. Very close. Damn. He’s tall. I love the feeling of looking up at a guy—not hard to come by since I’m a whole five foot nine—but Graham is tall . Over six feet, by my estimate. There’s something about craning my neck to take in the whole picture that makes my heart beat a little faster.

“We were about to get out of here.” Brandon chimes in. I want to growl at him, but it’s not polite. Not that I usually care about that kind of thing, but I’m on my best behavior tonight.

“Too bad. I wanted to buy you a drink.”

How did I end up in this situation? A night of getting my friends to stop riding my ass somehow turned into choosing between two gorgeous men. I don’t want to hurt either of their feelings. My heart pounds in my chest as I try to come up with something good to say. Neither of them looks like the sharing type.

“Maybe I can take a rain check instead?”

“What happened to the other guy you were talking to?” It’s the only thing my stupid brain can come up with as my body drifts closer to Graham. He smells of citrus and spice. It shouldn’t work, but it’s strangely intoxicating. Would he find it weird if I leaned in so I could inhale more of it? Probably.

“I politely let him know that he’s not my type.” I gulp. Does that mean I’m his type? Brandon shrinks back against the wall, and I immediately feel bad. I’m many things, but I’m neither a tease nor an asshole. Showing up to one of these stupid events is hard under the best of circumstances, but getting blown off when you thought you had a shot? Yeah, that’s a level of suck I don’t want to be responsible for.

“Yeah, a rain check sounds good.” How long do I have to wait before I cash it in? Is tomorrow too soon?

“You know, I probably should skip out. I have work early tomorrow morning,” Brandon says. I don’t believe him, but he can probably see the tension simmering between Graham and me.

“Oh, can I give you my number? In case you have a free night in the near future.” I brush my fingers over his hand when he gives me his phone to enter my number. It’s literally the least I can do at this point. There’s a hint of guilt simmering in my gut, but it’s overwhelmed by the sheer relief I feel at not having to choose. My jaw unclenches as I put my number into Brandon’s phone and send myself a quick text. He’ll probably never use it, but I’ve been surprised before. After a quick, polite smile and goodbye, Brandon makes a beeline for the door.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to scare him off,” Graham says. The smirk on his face says otherwise.

“Really? I thought you wanted to get a drink with me.” I wish I had something to drink right now to keep my hands busy.

“Oh, I do. But I don’t want to be a jerk in the process.”

“Well, how about we get a drink, and I’ll let you know if I think you’re a jerk?”

A smile spreads across his face. “After you.”

I head toward a couple of empty seats at the bar, Graham following close behind, one hand on my lower back. As soon as we’re seated, I put my hand up to get the bartender’s attention.

Graham sits next to me, shifting so he’s facing me, trapping me between his thick thighs. How is that so fucking sexy? When the bartender comes by, we each order a beer, forking over the last of our drink tickets. “So, Tyler,” he says once we have our drinks. “How did you end up here tonight?”

“Is that a practical question or a philosophical one?”

“Let’s say it’s somewhere in the middle.” He clinks his glass against mine and takes a sip. I stare, mesmerized, as his tongue licks the foam clinging to his upper lip. Fuck . I can think of much better uses for his tongue.

“My friends are assholes, and they think I’m not getting out enough.” He doesn’t need to know that they’re right.

“Ah, asshole friends are the best, aren’t they?”

I nod. I love those guys, even if they are way too pushy. “Do you have asshole friends, too?”

“I do, but the asshole in question also happens to be my new boss. She thinks everyone should be as ridiculously in love and happy as she is. One of her friends runs these events, so they teamed up to force me into it.”

I’m suddenly very thankful for his boss. Maybe I can send her a fruit basket or something? “So, we’ve both ended up here against our will.”

“Though, it turns out I’m actually enjoying myself.”

I nod my agreement, though I won’t be sharing that part of the evening with my friends. If they ask, it was terrible, and I’m never doing it again. At least the second part is true. “Another thing we have in common.” We take a few sips in silence. I hate this part. The get-to-know-you song and dance is so artificial. People should come with little cheat sheets. It’d save a lot of time and energy. “So, what else should I know about you other than the fact that you’re named after a British author?”

“Not much to know, really. I’m the youngest of three children, so my older siblings like to pry into my life and pretend they’re still in charge. Lucky for me, they live a couple of towns away, so the butting in is limited to phone calls and text messages. Also, I have a very grumpy cat that mooches off me but rarely makes an appearance when I have company. What about you?”

“I guess the opposite. I’m an only child and have no pets.” My parents love me, but I’m not sure kids were in their plans. I just sort of… happened. Pets, on the other hand, were a hard no. They got in the way of travel plans and white furniture.

“Hmmm…” He considers the information carefully. I know I didn’t offer much. I never do. I don’t think a hookup needs my life story, and while Graham seems like a great guy, I’m not planning on having him stick around long enough to need more details. “Well, I think we likely have a few more things in common. Like right now, I’m really hoping you want to go back to my place and get to know each other better.” He lets a hand fall to my knee. My cock immediately takes an interest in the touch. Fuck, yes, I want to get to know every inch of this man. Preferably multiple times tonight.

“Interesting. I guess we do have a few things in common.” I down the last few sips of my beer and let my knee bump against his a few times. “Want to get out of here?”