The Bachelor: a one-night stand boss romance

Chapter 1

Shane Hartnever went out of the house with the sole intention of hooking up with women. It just happened to him. Like rain in Seattle or tornados in Texas. It was just his personal climate—sunny with a sixty percent chance of sex on any given day of the week. Some guys were always winning at the casino. Some guys never missed a free throw. Shane’s gift was getting women naked. It wasn’t a talent he had asked for, or even honed on purpose, but he had yet to regret it when with a few words and a grin he found himself with a gorgeous woman on top of him making like a bull rider.

So a bachelor party should have been a sure thing. Not even worth taking a bet on if anyone happened to be betting on his sex life. Which they were.

But despite having his future brother-in-law Chance Rivers’ friends egging him on all night, Shane was going to leave the party alone. There was just no fun in it when it felt intentional. That was too on-the-hunt for him tonight.

“I’m going to head out,” he said to Dane, Chance’s best friend. Chance was surrounded by a bevy of admiring female fans, who were thrilled to come out on Nashville’s famous Broadway Street and run in to one of country’s hottest stars. The group of guys had spent the majority of the night in private venues, to protect Chance from the crowd, but he had wanted to make an appearance for the fans, who had been happily watching his relationship with Jolene unfold since their reunion the year before. “You need help getting Chance out of here?”

“Nah, I got it,” Dane yelled over the loud music. “But where the hell are you going? I have a fifty riding on you winding up the meat in a blonde sandwich tonight. Do it for me and all the rest of us married guys.”

That made Shane snort. “I told you not to take that bet. I can’t play it like that. Sex has to be spontaneous. Not predatory.” Scanning the room for a potential bed partner, then casting a line and reeling her in was not his style. Making conversation and seeing if one thing led to another was. And usually, one thing always led to another. Which was naked.

“That’s the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard,” Dane said. “All hookups are predatory. On both parts. And I’m out fifty bucks to Walker.”

Shane didn’t feel the need to explain himself any further. He clapped Dane on the shoulder. “Didn’t your mama ever tell you there’s no such thing as a sure thing? Mine sure did.”

He waved to Walker and to Chance’s other buddies, Sam and Mitchell, guys Shane casually knew from the music scene in Nashville. Tootsie’s was hopping as always, and while normally Shane dug the energy of all the bars and the live music pouring out on Broadway, it was cruising towards two in the morning and he had eight hours blocked out in the studio over the next two days. He wanted a good five hours of shut-eye before he went in to work. Next weekend was Jolene and Chance’s wedding and they had family coming in all week, so between personal and professional obligations, he was booked solid. For that reason, and because Chance was over a year sober, Shane hadn’t been drinking at all—a fact that would make the crack of dawn about a thousand times more pleasant. There was something to be said for the maturity that came with being almost thirty.

Maneuvering his way through the hot, crowded room, he edged out several girls to get to Chance to make his goodbyes. “Hey, I’m taking off.” He gave Chance a quick one-armed hug. “I hope you had fun, man. And for the record, I don’t hate you marrying my sister.”

Chance grinned at him. “There’s a ringing endorsement, thanks. Seeing as I don’t have a sister, I don’t know exactly how you’re feeling but I can tell you this—all those things you do with your flavor-of-the-week hookups? It’s better when you know someone inside and out. Like I know your sister.”

Shane grimaced and made a sound of protest. “Stop. Shit, Rivers. Don’t tell me that.”

His sister’s fiancé laughed. “Someday you’ll understand what I mean when you fall head over ass. But not tonight, I imagine. Who’s the poor girl who thinks she wants to leave with you?” He looked behind Shane curiously.

Shane rolled his eyes. “You know, I don’t have sex with a different woman every night of the week. I think you all have turned me into more of a legend than I actually am. I mean, I’m good,” he couldn’t help but brag just a little bit. “But I do need sleep from time to time.”

There was a woman near them who was leaning so that her hip kept sliding along Shane’s thigh. He glanced over at her and she gave him that sultry smile, eyebrows rising in a challenge. Oh, damn. He needed to go. “See ya next week, bye.” He clapped Chance on the shoulder and bolted.

He felt a little sheepish as he walked out of the club. His sex life was too much a subject for discussion for his liking. He hadn’t fostered a reputation any more than he had sought out hookups and he wasn’t entirely comfortable with being a manwhore among his friends.

Once he was finally outside, he breathed in deeply. It was a hot July night and the city was buzzing. He loved Nashville, had since the minute their mama had moved them all there so Jolene could pursue a music career. He’d felt the limitations of his small hometown being lifted, and the pain of his father’s abuse of their mother—and his own frustration that he couldn’t stop it—finally begin to heal.

That had been ten years earlier and now Jolene was a star, and Shane was gaining respect and ground as a producer. Mama was happy in her condo, and their sister, Elle, was on the road doing hair and makeup for a big-time country diva. Everything was damn good. Shane walked down the sidewalk and whistled a cheerful tune that one of his artists was in the middle of recording. The street was noisy, though the crowds were beginning to wind down a little as bars shut down for the night. There was music and laughter, but as Shane neared the end of Broadway, he also heard shouting, the rise of anger in a young woman’s voice.

Most likely just some drunken lover’s spat, but he did glance over to see what was going on. There was a young redhead dressed in a short lace dress and pale blue cowboy boots screaming at a guy in the driver’s side of a truck as she jumped out the passenger door into the street. “You’re a lying son of a bitch,” she shouted. “And I hope that, that, that… something really bad happens to you!”

That made Shane chuckle despite her obvious upset. It seemed like Red had a hard time coming up with a suitably horrible curse, which was kind of cute. She slammed the door shut and squeezed both her hands into fists, letting out a shriek of frustration. She locked eyes with Shane. Her mouth dropped open and her nose wrinkled. But as the truck peeled away with a squeal of rubber and a revved engine, she suddenly whirled and started screaming, “Stop, stop, stop! Ben, stop, my purse is in there!”

The driver didn’t stop. She started running after the truck, and even as it disappeared into the distance, she kept flailing down the street, her gait uneven, arms waving hysterically. Shane started moving toward her. It was dark and she was going to get hit by a car doing that. The street wasn’t crazy busy, but people still were stupid enough to drink and drive, and she was clearly upset.

As the truck turned a corner and vanished, she stopped running and bent over, like she was trying to catch her breath. He reached her in a few long strides. “Hey, are you okay? Why don’t you come out of the street before you get hit.”

She looked up at him and Shane’s words got caught in his throat. Holy hell, she was like nothing he’d ever seen. There were tears dampening her pale cheeks, a dusting of freckles over her peaches and cream skin. Her nose was tiny, her lips surprisingly full, a rich raspberry color that he could tell wasn’t due to lipstick. Her cheekbones were strong, her lashes delicate, dark with tears. But it was her eyes that arrested him. They were two different colors. One a pale translucent blue, the other a rich green, veering toward hazel. It was mesmerizing to see those eyes, filled with raw, naked pain, trained directly on to him.

“No, I’m not okay,” she said. Her voice was soft, trembling. She had an accent he recognized, a sign of growing up in the country. He would guess either northern Tennessee or his own home state of Kentucky. “I left my purse in his car.”

As she stood up straight, Shane realized that he towered over her tiny frame. He wrapped his arm around her shoulder, to gently lead her to the sidewalk. At first he had thought she was high school age, but now that he’d seen her face up close, he guessed that she was more likely in her early twenties. But there was something very sweet about her that made him instantly feel protective. For all his reputation Shane considered himself respectful of women. He had disdained his father for using his strength and size against his wife, and Shane had grown up loving his mother and his sisters more than anyone on the planet, so he genuinely adored women. This woman was in more than a spot of trouble and he wasn’t about to walk away until she was in a taxi heading home or in the company of her girlfriends.

“Who is that guy, besides a lying son of a bitch?” He paused under the streetlight and looked down at her, giving her a smile so she’d know he was joking.

“He’s my boyfriend. Well, he was my boyfriend until I just found out he was cheating on me.” She gave a snort. “How stupid does he think I am? When she talks about how awesome it was to suck his ding dong, she’s not projecting. She’s talking truth.”

Shane tried not to laugh. It wasn’t funny. This girl was clearly angry and upset. But ding dong? It was hard to not at least crack a smile. “I agree with you one hundred percent. I also think there is nothing more selfish than a cheater. You can’t have your cake and eat it too.”

A scowl crossed her face and he wasn’t sure what she was thinking, or if he had upset her further, because she didn’t speak. She just looked around him to the street. Finally she said, “I need my purse. My wallet and phone are in there.”

“Do you want to borrow my phone to call him?”

“I don’t know his number. I never memorized it.” Her eyes widened with fresh tears. “Who doesn’t know their boyfriend’s phone number? Lord, this is so stupid and awful. What am I going to do?”

“Do you know anyone’s number? Were you out with friends tonight or just him?”

“Just him.” The grimace she gave was so disgusted it was a relief. He could deal with her anger towards her ex better than tears.

“Where do you live? I’ll get you a cab home.”

“I don’t want to go there.” She shook her head. “We live together with Ben’s aunt and uncle.”

She was living with the lying cheat? Yikes. That was definitely a problem. “Can you call a friend?”

“I don’t know anyone here. I’ve only been in Nashville a few weeks.” She bit her lip, and her anger seemed to deflate. “But if I can get my purse, I can go to the hotel room I reserved for tonight. We were supposed to have a fun night, then have some privacy at a hotel. Now I’m glad I have it because I can’t go back there with Ben’s family, it’s way too humiliating.”

He could understand that. He really felt bad for her. She still had tears in her eyes and she looked confused, hurt, defeated. There was something about her that reminded him of a girl he’d known in high school, Jeannie Simms, one he’d nurtured a serious crush on. Jeannie had been a girl who had looked perpetually sad, and Shane had always wanted to comfort her.

Unfortunately, as a teenager, he hadn’t been great at helping a girl with her feelings. Instead, he’d offered comfort with his arms around her and his lips on her mouth. He was starting to have a similar reaction to this woman.

“Maybe you should go back to the house and wait for him so you can get your purse back and then head to the hotel. It’s late, where is he going to go?”

“Apparently to a whole lot of women’s houses. It turns out ding dong girl was just the latest in a long line.” She tossed her long hair back and shook her head. “Lord, I’m pissed off at him for putting me in this position. He promised me he wouldn’t do this again.”

Shane wasn’t sure what to say to that other than the man was an idiot and she was too trusting. Based on her words, he had to assume she meant he had cheated before. Shane had zero respect for a man who did that. He also thought she was a whole lot more forgiving than he would have been. He’d be one and done in a situation like that.

“I can give you a ride.” He pulled his cell phone out of his pocket. “Here, hold this. And my wallet.” He held them both out to her. “That way you know I’m not a serial killer.”

She cocked her head and blinked. “But if you kill me, wouldn’t you just take your wallet and phone back? And I’d be dead, so I wouldn’t be able to tell anyone anyway.”

That made him laugh. Maybe she wasn’t as na?ve as she looked. “Good point. But you can use my phone to call for help if I get weird.” When she didn’t accept the offered items, he took them back and opened his wallet, pulling out two twenties. “Then here, take some money for a cab and I’ll wait with you until it gets here. I’m not leaving you standing on the sidewalk at two in the morning with no phone and no money.”

“Thank you so much, but…” She started to shake her head in protest. “I can’t accept money from you. Maybe I can just find a cop?” She looked around her helplessly. She drew in a big shaky breath. “They’ll help me, right?”

“You’re from Kentucky, right?” he asked. “Small town?”

“How did you know?” Her nose wrinkled. “Is it that obvious?”

“Only because I’m from small-town Kentucky. I know the accent. Trust me, cops back home might give you a ride and think nothing of it. Here, they have better things to do than shuttle girls home after a fight with their boyfriend. They’re not going to have a lot of sympathy. This is a party town and things like this happen every single night. You’re on your own, unfortunately.” He smiled. “Except for me. I’m feeling an odd sense of big-brother Good Samaritan-ness toward you.”

He was. She was making him feel homesick, which was odd. He hadn’t loved anything about his childhood other than his mother and sisters. Not the small town, not his cruel father, not the bleak lack of prospects for a better life. Yet he looked at this girl and suddenly he was seventeen again and wishing like hell that Jeannie Simms would turn her sad green eyes onto him and appreciate the man he’d thought he was.

But that was well over a decade ago and he wasn’t ever going back to Kentucky, and Jeannie Simms had overdosed a few years after he left, proving he hadn’t been wrong about those sad eyes. A piece of him had always felt guilty that he couldn’t help her, even though she had never really spoken about what was going on in her life to him. But he could help out this vulnerable girl tonight.

He lived his life by one rule—don’t be an asshole. It covered all his moral and ethics, from working hard to being kind to being loyal and honest.

He was no asshole and he wasn’t leaving this girl alone until he knew she was safe.

She fell backwards against the wall behind them, like she was tired of holding herself up. Tears ran down her cheeks and she sniffled. “This is so stupid. This is the stupidest of stupid things. I’m such an idiot.”

Shane pressed the two twenties into her hand but she didn’t take them. They just fluttered to the ground. After bending over to pick them up, he studied her. She didn’t look drunk. Just defeated. Shell-shocked. “I’m Shane, by the way,” he said. “And come on. I’m giving you a ride.” He didn’t want to let her out of his sight until he knew for sure she was safely in a house or hotel.

“I’m Avery.”

“Nice to meet you, Avery.” Shane took her hand, forced his cell phone into it, wrapping her lithe fingers around it. “Hold this.”

She finally obeyed. Then he took her other hand and squeezed it softly.

“You don’t have to do this,” she said, but she sounded unsure of herself.

“No, I don’t. But I’m going to.” He pulled her forward off the wall. “The code on my phone is 451212 so you can unlock it if you want.”

She dug her heels in. “Wait, what if Ben realizes he has my purse and comes back? Shouldn’t I wait here?”

She had a point. Shane tipped his head to the diner across the street. “Let’s go get a cup of coffee and watch out the window for his truck.” He’d give it thirty minutes.

“I can wait by myself, you don’t have to stay.”

“You don’t have any money, remember?” Shane tugged her again and this time she came forward. “Stop being stubborn and just accept my help.”

Avery looked at him for a minute and then nodded. “Thanks. This is very nice of you. I’m sure you have better things to do.”

“You’re right. I could be sleeping. But I don’t want to wake up tomorrow and see on the news that you are missing or were hit by a car or got arrested for loitering. And I hate the idea of never knowing what actually happened to you.” He put his wallet back into his pocket and glanced right and left to make sure the street was clear to cross. “Call me what you want, but it’s just the way I’m drawn.”

She looked up at him with those stunning eyes. “Apparently, I’m drawn like an idiot.”

What she was, was beautiful. She looked fresh, sweet, trusting. She looked like the kind of girl you brought home to meet your mama—and Shane didn’t spend much time with women like that. The women he hung around with were fun, confident, sexy, brazen. They knew what they wanted and it was a little bit of companionship of the naked variety, nothing more. Then there were the women who wanted to use him as a stepping stone into the industry. They were easy to spot. They looked hungry, calculating. He avoided them now, though he couldn’t say that had always been the case.

But Avery? This teary-eyed redhead fresh from the sticks was trouble. Because relationships weren’t his style and that wasn’t going to change anytime soon. He believed in love and marriage. For other people. His biggest fear was buried deep inside him was something of his father and that he’d fuck up a relationship and hurt the woman he loved.

So he stuck with casual.

“I guess we’re both a couple of idiots. But at least we’re good looking.” He winked at her to lighten the mood. Try to get a laugh out of her.

“They say the devil was a handsome fella, too, you know.”

Now he had to laugh. He hadn’t expected that from her. “Don’t worry. I won’t ask you to dance.”

For the first time, she gave him the tiniest of smiles. “That’s a shame, because I sure do love to dance.”

Shane felt a stirring of something that was extremely inappropriate. Lust. Kicking up right below the waistband. He hadn’t expected that and he didn’t like it.

Damn it. He should have gone home with the girl from Tootsie’s, the one who had given him the fuck-me eyes. He could have avoided this whole mess.

Then he pictured Avery wandering around Broadway alone and his gut clenched. He had been in the right place at the right time and he was thankful for that. And damn it if he wasn’t going to be a true gentleman, lust or no lust.

Yet that didn’t stop him from saying, “You know what they say about dancing. It’s a vertical expression of a horizontal desire.”

It just fell out of his mouth. Flirt came naturally. He couldn’t stop himself.

But Avery just stared at him. “I don’t get it.”

Thank you, baby Jesus in the cradle. He had found the one woman who didn’t think he was charming or clever, or didn’t but thought he was hot and therefore pretended to think he was clever. “Ask your mama what it means.” He smiled and pulled the door to the coffee shop open and hoped like hell he could help Avery get home in the next five minutes, before things got awkward.

By awkward, he meant before he got a hard-on he could do nothing about.

Her eyes suddenly widened and she looked back at him, her auburn hair tumbling over her face. “Ooooh, I get it.” Her cheeks turned pink and she drew her tongue across her bottom lip, assessing him like she was seeing him for the very first time. “You mean sex.”

Just like that, with that short sentence falling from her raspberry lips and her remarkable eyes bright and curious, he went hard.

And things got awkward.