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I laugh and put my hands up, palms facing her, feigning innocence.

I was genuinely just trying to be friendly.

She gives me a smile and works on my order while I continue to look around the space.

I’d love to interview her, learn the story, and meet more people.

The town is somehow cuter than anticipated, and I had already thought it was something special.

It’s a true hidden gem, both from its position hidden by the Olympic Mountains and the Pacific Ocean, and the quaint charm that the town exudes.

I’ve never seen such an idyllic, charming town.

It’s as if it were handpicked right from a storybook.

Patrons sit in various spots within the space, and I can feel the inconspicuous looks as they regard the newcomer.

I’ve seen it all before; residents of small towns tend to be wary of outsiders, cautious, and protective.

It’s one of the reasons I gravitate toward them.

What brings these strangers together to share in the common, collective goal of protecting the thing they all love?

“Here you go!”

“Thank you. Can’t wait to try it all,” I tell her honestly.

After taking one last look around the coffee shop, clocking all of the little details that make it unique, I head to the door.

The little old lady sitting off in the window squints her eyes at me as she watches me go.

Like she wants to make sure that I’ve actually left before she dares to look away.

The warm, balmy air hits my body in a gust of heat as I step out onto the cobblestone sidewalk.

A hand roughly grasps my bicep, jerking me into the small alley on the other side of the brick building, shoving me against the wall.

I do everything I can not to slosh my hot drink on either of us as I figure out what the hell is going on and if I’m about to be mugged in a tiny-ass town.

“What the fuck are you doing here?” Carter hisses, his face pinched, clearly pissed the fuck off. Our bodies are near flush, his minty breath warm on my face. Any worry I had evaporates, replaced with a rush of endorphins, my heart settling, and a smile tugging at my lips.

“I was getting a coffee and breakfast,” I reply innocently, holding up the white bag of pastries and the to-go cup in my other hand.

“In Aspen Ridge, asshole. Just openly stalking me now?”

I scoff, even if it’s true. “Pretty full of yourself, Hayes. You know I’m a travel writer, right? I’m assuming you read more about me than just my name.”

“So, what? Now you’re going to blast my whole fuckin’ town? Stay the fuck away from my family. Stay the fuck away from Bean Haven. Hannah has been through enough.”

“Hannah, huh?”

“Yep. My sister-in-law. And we’re protective of what’s ours, Nash, so not so kindly, fuck off.”

I don’t know why, but his words strike a chord. I’m genuinely awed by Aspen Ridge and was interested in learning more about the place and its residents, even if I’ve been forbidden from ever stepping foot here. I wouldn’t ruin an innocent woman’s life and for him to accuse me of such pisses me off.

“Fuck you! You don’t know shit about me,” I snap, anger coursing through me now.

“Don’t I?”

“Trust me, whatever preconceived notion you have, I guarantee you’re way off base.”

A deep chuckle escapes him and it only pisses me off more.

“Whatever. Are we done here?”

“No. We need to talk. And not fucking here. Up the road to the end of the street, take a right at the clock tower. Last house on the left.”

“Inviting me back to your place so soon, Hayes?”

“Fuck you. Don’t make a goddamn scene, and for fuck’s sake, don’t talk to anyone.”

“Meet you at home, honey!” I say just to piss him off as I step out of the alley and take my time wandering through the quiet downtown.

I wasn’t expecting to run into Carter here, even if I was hoping to.

Even if my dad has threatened my life to stay away from Aspen Ridge, the Haye’s family and their distillery, I thought it was long past time that I take a trip to visit the tiny town hidden in the woods.

I couldn’t stay away, and no one knows I’m here but me.

Excitement courses through me at being alone with Carter again, at seeing the inside of the place he calls home.

I take my time walking up the street, looking at every storefront I pass—a bar called The Night Owl, a bookstore called Book Bound, which I actually stop in front of to look through the window.

The inside is whimsical, a large sign in the window display case with a Cheshire Cat perched on the top, arrows pointing left and right with different fictional lands written in loopy scroll—Narnia, Middle Earth, Neverland, and Westeros.

I definitely want to go in here on my way back.

I continue up the road until I reach the large clock tower that sits at the very end of Main Street, signaling the end of their downtown area.

I take my turn and walk to the end of the short, dead-end road.

Rows of gorgeous Sitka spruce trees stand tall behind the few houses on the street.

Lampposts wrapped in Christmas lights line the brick sidewalk.

It’s even more charming than I imagined it would be.

I easily find a modest home at the end of the street.

Sipping on my caffeine fix, I stand outside of it and look up.

The house is ten times smaller than anything I’ve ever lived in, and I find myself extremely jealous that this is all his.

I’ve always wanted to live in a place like this. Modest, comfortable, and cozy.

It’s painted a faded-out blue, with white trim that’s chipped and whitewashed.

The grass is vibrant, and there’s a small porch out front with no furniture.

I wouldn’t have guessed that Carter lived alone, but that makes me wonder.

But, then again, he wouldn’t have told me to meet him here if he had roommates.

Lost in my thoughts, I don’t register Carter’s footsteps approaching until he practically shoulder-checks me .

“Well, thank fuck my coffee is almost gone or you would have just spilled it all over me for the second time today.”

“Get your ass inside the house, Nash.”

“Yes, sir.” And fuck if I don’t love the way his face flames once the words hit his ears.

He opens the door, and I notice that it was left unlocked—interesting. The town must have zero crime, or Carter is just way too trusting. That or no one fucks with the Hayes family.

I follow him inside, Carter’s warm, woodsy, sweet scent filling my nose. I take a deep breath, inhaling it and wishing I could bottle it up. Any tension I was carrying with me drains, even if the situation between us isn’t ideal, something about being here and in his space is wholly comforting.

My eyes dart around for any clues to give me more insight into him.

There are blown-up old-school comic book posters framed along the wall of the entryway that flow into the living area, and I’m instantly intrigued, my heart stopping as I study them.

This is my thing. My favorite comics, and they’re hanging in his house.

I do my best to control my excitement at this find.

There’s a small table in the modest entryway with a bowl cradling a set of keys and his wallet. Hardwood floors that are scuffed and knotted from old age extend as far as I can see, but I don’t get much more time to take in his space as much as I want to.

Carter immediately spins on me, my back hitting the closed door behind me as he stays a foot away, his eyebrows pinched together, his cheeks still red. I meet his eyes through the lenses of my glasses, and I notice his darting all over my face, trying to get a read on me.

“Now, why the fuck are you in my town?”

I shrug nonchalantly. “It’s not private property, I’m free to visit wherever I want. ”

I don’t know why I continue to piss him off. I’m a glutton for punishment, apparently. I need him to hate me so that I can stay away, but I can’t fucking stay away to begin with. I’ve created a cycle that I can’t break free from. I want what I can’t have, and I should walk away, but I can’t let go.

“I’m not playing these fuckin’ games with you. If you need me to beg, I’ll fucking beg. But I need you to stay away from this town and the people in it. I don’t trust you. If you aren’t going to write a glowing article about us, just leave. Please.”

His desperation about breaks me. I want to tell him the truth.

I want to tell him that I tasted an Aspen Ridge Distillery whiskey and went looking for more information on it while searching for my next location, that I fell in love with the town before I ever stepped foot in it.

I want to explain how my father is a controlling piece of shit, how he’s forbidden me from writing a feature on Aspen Ridge or the distillery, how the only good thing in my life is my career and that he would ruin me if he knew I was here right now.

That I know how fucked-up this is, but that I can’t walk away now.

I’m dying to share how much I love my job.

That I just want to tell stories and get a positive spotlight on businesses and places that could benefit from it.

I want to learn about his family history, the town, the distillery.

I want to tell him that my dad is a cruel sonofabitch and is twisting my arm because I don’t know what else I’ll do if I don’t work for his magazine. I’d have nothing.

That from the moment I saw his photo, I’ve been madly obsessed with him.

I want to tell him that from the moment I met him, I’ve been consumed by him, in every waking thought, in my dreams, that I’m lovesick and I’ve never felt anything like it before.

I never believed in love at first sight, but fuck, what else could this be? Doesn’t he feel it?

But I can’t tell him any of this. He’d try to have me committed to a mental institution; hell, if the tables were turned, I’d probably do the same.

I just need time. I need to figure this out, and I need Carter to get to know me.

So, I’ll play the part of the asshole until I can figure out what to do and how to get everything we both want.

Stepping into his space, walking him backward a few paces, I know what I have to do.

Because I can’t give him up, and I can’t take a chance on my father finding out until I can make a plan to get Carter’s family the feature they deserve, and he gives me an opportunity to explore whatever is between us.

“Here’s what’s going to happen,” I say, speaking up. “I’m going to my family’s beach house this weekend, and you’re going to come with me.”

He scoffs, his head jerking backward. “You’re out of your fucking mind. I’m good.”

“Yeah, see, lover, you don’t have a choice. You’re going to be a good boy and come with me to the house for a long weekend—I want three full days—and I’ll write the article.”

I’m going to fucking hell. The words burn on my tongue as I say them, my stomach churning acid as he pales.

I hate myself in this moment. And I deserve to have Carter hate me, too.

But I know how bad he wants this article, it’s the Northwest Explorer for fuck’s sake, we’ve had plenty of bribes over the years to get us to feature them.

I feel like shit for blackmailing him. But I know he won’t go willingly.

“You motherfucker,” he seethes. “We don’t need you. There are plenty of writers there. You need to get the fuck out of my life.”

“But then who will be there to suck your cock, Carter?”

“Trust me, there have been dozens that came before you, and far, far better.” I don’t even flinch. Instead, I use my forearm to push him against the wall, holding them there, my free hand shooting out to grab his cock roughly, making him grunt. He’s hard as steel, just as I’d hoped he’d be.

“Liar.”

He bats my hand away, eyes squinting into slits as he glares at me.

“It’s your choice, Hayes. Come spend the weekend with me, away from Aspen Ridge, and where everyone knows both of us, and I’ll convince my dad to run the article.”

Fuck.

Carter doesn’t miss a beat, his eyes flashing up to mine at the bomb I just accidently dropped.

The little nugget of information that gives him more detail into what’s happening here.

He doesn’t question me or press for more information, and I watch helplessly as he files it away for later.

I release my hold on him and take a step back, waiting for his answer.

“Get the fuck out of my house.”

“I need your answer today.”

“Get out!”

Leaving Carter’s, I feel like a piece of shit. The exact person my father sees me as. I’ve accepted that I’ll always disappoint him, but now I’ve thoroughly disappointed myself.

I wanted to pull him to me, stuff my head in his neck and breathe in his scent, hold him the rest of the day, learn about all of his likes and dislikes, tell him that the only reason I haven’t interviewed them is because of my dad.

Instead, I skip over the stores I wanted to check out, and respect Carter’s wishes, getting in my SUV and driving out of town without talking to anyone else.

If he doesn’t agree to come with me to Emberleigh, I don’t know what I’ll do. There is no plan B.