Chapter 2
two
Tessa
Igrab my phone back out of my purse, needing to distract myself. A knot forms in my stomach when I see him shift his chair, getting closer.
I quickly send a text to my friend from college, focusing my attention on anything but the hot cowboy who is sitting right freaking next to me.
It’s the hat.
It’s always the men in cowboy hats.
I had a thing for them in high school and apparently, it didn’t go away.
Hey, Mer! It’s been way too freaking long—I’m sorry I’ve been the worst. I’m actually in Western Virginia for a few days and wasn’t sure if you were around. I’d love to have lunch or coffee or a drink. Xoxo
Or maybe you can come right now so I don’t make a total fool of myself around this guy who is flagging down the bartender.
MEREDITH
Tessy! My love! I’ve missed you and I wish I could. You have no idea how much I need that drink, but I have some family drama going on and I’m out of town for a few days.
I smile. Meredith is the only person who calls me Tessy, and no one besides me calls her Mer—without a freaking earful that will ensure they never do it again. I’m sad she can’t commit, but I would never make her feel bad about it.
Sorry about the drama. Anything I can do to help?
MEREDITH
Oh, I wish, but no. It’ll be fine. How long are you in the area?
Maybe a week or two. Let me know if anything changes and we can make it work.
MEREDITH
I will. Hopefully my dad can get it figured out and we can move on.
Her dad? Wow. I didn’t know she was talking to him after they had their big blow up a year ago.
Sometimes, there is something to be said about blissful ignorance.
When Meredith did a DNA test to see if she had the breast cancer gene after her mother passed away.
Only, she found out a whole lot more, like the fact that her parents had lied to her and she wasn’t actually her father’s daughter.
That went over like a lead balloon.
I’ll hope for the best and it seems we have a lot to catch up on.
MEREDITH
Thanks, Tessy! I’ll call you in the next few days and let you know when I’m back in town. Jake will want to see you too.
Jake and I met my sophomore year in Psychology, and we quickly became friends.
When he saw Meredith for the first time—that was it.
He was in love, and she spent a year making him chase her, which he did.
I was the maid of honor at their wedding, and I don’t know that I’ve ever met two people who fit together like them.
I miss you both and can’t wait to see you!
Hopefully we can make that happen. It’s been way too long and I’m honestly starting to wonder if my mother is right and I suck as a human for not staying in touch.
Meredith was—is—my best friend. She’s the only person who has always been there, no matter what I needed.
She deserved better than a few months and a random text because I’m in the area.
No longer having the phone as an excuse to not look at the guy next to me, I pick up the menu, remembering that I was here for food anyway.
“I don’t suggest anything with fish,” a deep, raspy voice says from the other side of the menu.
Of course his voice is freaking hot too.
I clear my throat and look into a pair of eyes that could literally melt me off this bar stool. His green eyes are really light in the center and then darken as they go out to the thick black ring containing all that color.
Shit.
He talked. I should talk.
Yes, talking would be good.
“Thanks for the advice. Fish at a bar is never a good idea,” I say, my voice sounding scratchy. I take a sip of my whiskey sour.
He smiles and my stomach does one of those flips that make my skin tingle. “That’s true, well, unless you’re in Boston. Then you want to get whatever seafood is on the menu.”
The way he says it, with a Boston accent at the end, has me grinning. “Same in New York.” I let my practiced one come through.
“You’re a New Yorker?”
I shake my head. “Not really. I’m actually from Indiana, but I’ve been practicing to sound like a New Yorker since I live there. What about you? Are you from Boston?”
What about you? Ugh! I sound ridiculous.
“Sometimes.”
“That’s vague,” I say back, placing the menu down and my hands on top of it.
“Is it? Sometimes I’m from there, other times I’m not.”
I laugh softly. “Okay. Then how often are you here?”
“It used to be around fifty percent—now it’s more like seventy.”
“Interesting,” I say, lifting my glass. “What keeps you here more lately?”
Please don’t say a wife.
Or maybe I do want him to say that so I can go back to my menu perusing and instead of staring at the hot guy.
“My farm.”
Farm doesn’t mean wife. That’s a start. He has no ring on, but my dad proved a ring really means jack shit.
Plus, my friend’s husband never wears one because when he was working on his engine, it got caught on something and almost had to have his finger amputated.
Farmers use their hands a lot, right? This guy could be thinking the same thing.
“I see,” I say even though I don’t. “So, since I shouldn’t get the fish here, is there anything you’d recommend?”
He leans in a little closer, looking at the menu. “I’d also avoid their Italian food. If you live in New York, you’re not going to be impressed here.”
That is a very true statement. The Italian food in the city is absolutely the best I’ve ever had, well, other than when I was in Italy, but that’s in a league of its own.
“We’re really limiting my options here,” I tease the sexy stranger.
Slowly he lifts his green eyes to mine and I can’t breathe. I could get lost in them. I could stare into them as they looked down on me while he…
What the hell?
Where did that come from?
My God, I’m here for work, not a hookup. Not that I would even know what a hookup is at this point, since it’s been about four years.
Okay, five.
In college, I was never into the dating scene. Most guys at my school just wanted to sleep with as many girls as they could find. No thank-you. I did have one, but he was an asshole who dumped me after he cheated.
Then, I didn’t have time between classes, tests, and working damn near full-time so I could afford college, my internship, and grad school.
I would’ve thought once I moved to New York City it would’ve been different, but again, I have goals. Big goals that don’t include a guy messing up my world.
So, it just…hasn’t happened.
I haven’t really thought much of it—until now.
“I think having options is always important,” his deep voice slides over the words, sending a shiver down my spine.
“Agreed. Options make us feel less…trapped.”
He laughs once. “They do. So, let’s think about your options.”
The ones I’m thinking about all involve lips, tongues, hands, and…other body parts.
I close my eyes, mentally slap myself, and put my dirty mind to the backburner because this never happens. We’re talking about food, not sex.
“There’s a burger,” I say, keeping my gaze on the menu.
“Solid choice.”
“Chicken tenders.”
“Ehh, can be kept on the short list.”
I smile. “Salad?”
“Boring. You don’t seem like a salad girl.”
At that I look up. “I don’t?”
For some reason, I don’t think we’re talking about food.
He shakes his head. “I think you’re a bit more adventurous.”
I lean in, unable to stop myself. “You don’t know me at all.”
His eyes move to my lips. “I think I do.”
I raise one brow and run my eyes along that chiseled jawline. “And what do you know?”
He doesn’t hesitate to answer, and I’m caught off guard by his words. “You’re beautiful, smart, and take what you want. You work hard, harder than you get credit for, but you don’t complain. No, you’re too proud for that.”
My heart is pounding so hard it’s almost all I can hear. He’s right about so much of it and how he was able to read me so easily is…unlike anything I’ve ever experienced.
I hide those things. I hide a lot of myself because anytime I’ve exposed a part of my heart, it’s been broken. By men, my family, my friends—myself.
Needing to keep this conversation back to the light and fun, I smile and return the topic to food. “And that makes me a non-salad girl?”
He moves his hand closer, the tip of his finger just grazing mine. “Do you want a salad?”
I shake my head. “I don’t.”
“Then what do you want?”
For him to take me out of this bar and make me forget about food.
But that would be reckless, and that’s the one thing I never am.