CHAPTER FOUR
Unknown Sender: Make your decision yet?
Me: Depends who’s asking…
I roll my eyes at myself. As if I don’t know.
Only one insistent little girl, along with her extremely attractive father, are waiting to hear from me.
Not that I actually planned to contact them.
After wiggling my way out of Ronnie’s grasp, I spit out the first noncommittal response that came to mind and took off in the opposite direction.
That’s twice I’ve run from them. It’s pitiful.
Much like my attempt to blend in with the locals at their beloved cafe.
They all stare at me like I’m a stain on this town.
My tattoos and leather might as well be a neon sign, labeling me a fraud.
I should slink back to the wrong side of the tracks, but I won’t give them the satisfaction of scaring me off too.
Byron: Ronnie won’t take no for an answer.
My stomach knots. I might not be a kid person, but knowing I’m going to disappoint that innocent child doesn’t sit well. That doesn’t mean I’m fit to be her nanny.
Me: Tell her I left town.
Byron: I don’t make a habit of lying to my daughter.
Me: Not my problem. How’d you get my number?
Byron: Bianca gave it to me.
Betrayal burns my cheeks, which has nothing to do with the shameless leers everyone is aiming at me. Whispers lash my ears, telling me what I already know. I glare at the screen and toggle over to my thread with the traitor.
Me: You gave Byron my number?!
Bianca: Against my better judgment.
Me: WTF
Bianca: Sorry, cuz. Ronnie is determined.
Me: I’m not nanny material!
Bianca: You won’t hear me argue, but my opinion doesn’t matter.
Me: I have a criminal record!
Bianca: I wouldn’t brag about that. Not that it matters. The job is yours. Good luck.
I drop my phone onto the table. It clatters loudly, masking my groan of frustration.
The noise draws even more eyes toward my spot in the corner.
Unease creeps up my spine and tries to curl my shoulders inward, but I refuse to cower.
Instead, my chin lifts as I return their unwanted attention.
Most look away while others scoff as if my reaction is unreasonable.
I’m expected to let them treat me like an outcast on display.
This is what I get for trying to blend in.
I know better than pretending my presence will go unnoticed.
Sip in the Stacks is where all the locals gather to discuss the latest gossip in Cloverleaf Meadows.
I’m serving myself up as easy prey for them to devour.
A grin tugs at my lips as I lift my mug and take a sip.
Momentary bliss fills me, proving the extra hot caramel latte loaded with whipped cream is totally worth it.
Byron: Well?
Me: Not gonna happen.
Byron: Figured you’d say that.
Me: You’ll find someone much more suitable.
Byron: And what’re you planning to do? Wait around for another free ride to swoop in?
I flip off his message. Such a pretentious ass.
Me: Let Ronnie down gently for me, okay?
There’s an uncomfortable pinch in my chest as I turn my phone over, ignoring any additional attempts he might send to persuade me. Ronnie will forget about me soon enough. That’s the way it goes. I’m not worth the trouble.
Which is why I’ve been left to fend for myself.
A lonely pit yawns in my gut at the reminder.
With nowhere else to go, I decided to park on Main Street for the day.
For some pathetic reason, I thought a few of them might circle back to look for me.
Jax was the closest thing I had to a friend.
He could’ve at least said goodbye. But then what?
My gaze skitters out the window, watching the town do normal afternoon things.
Holiday lights are strung up on lamp posts, twinkling in anticipation of the festivities.
Traffic flows through the intersection without a hitch.
Fallen leaves drift on what I imagine is a strong breeze.
People rush along the sidewalk to avoid the late November chill.
The view is picturesque and calm and it’s obvious I don’t belong.
That realization strikes deep, carving at what’s left of my identity.
Maybe this is what lies ahead. I’ve rarely had anything to look forward to.
But that doesn’t feel quite right. I’d be lying if I said that little girl’s persistence hasn’t warmed my frozen heart.
Nobody has ever cared enough about me to be so relentless.
It’s nice to be wanted, even if she doesn’t realize I’m the worst choice.
Fuck, I’m a mess. My mood is more unstable than Ronnie’s decision-making skills. I lower my head until it rests on the table. Just for a moment to gather clarity. A sign pointing me in a general direction would be great.
“Howdy, menace.”
My neck cracks as I lurch upright. Byron Benson in the flesh towers over me like a dark knight. Gloom evaporates, replaced by shock and something else. Something thrilling. The sight of him takes my breath away. I flap my lips soundlessly in an attempt to form words. It fails miserably.
Once again, I’m caught off guard. It’s a small comfort to see I’m not the only one. Every set of eyes is locked on him. Byron commands the room by just entering it. Masculine energy pulses off the walls, filling the entire space with his presence.
There’s no looking away from his hypnotic stare. I’m caught in the trap he’s set, unable to even blink. His attention doesn’t leave me either. Even shadowed under the brim of a cowboy hat, eyes the color of semi-sweet chocolate swirl with unwavering promises of pleasure.
Attraction thrums in my veins, spreading steadily until I’m consumed. He’s just so… large. Broad and manly and gruff. The width of his shoulders expands the thermal flannel he’s wearing to its limit. I know from experience he fills out a suit much the same.
Heat rises in my cheeks. What would it be like to get trapped underneath all that bulk as he thrusts into me? The emptiness in my core clenches, desperate to be stretched and stuffed beyond capacity. My throat goes dry. It’s been too long since I’ve felt that.
Byron takes the seat beside me as if it’s saved for him. “Happy to see me?”
I force a smile, but the edges lack a certain sharpness. “You wish.”
“Who else put that blush on your face?”
The acknowledgment burns my face hotter. How humiliating. “You caused a scene strutting in here. The gossips can’t pick their jaws up off the floor.”
His lips quirk to one side. “Nah, they were expecting me.”
“Oh?”
“I’m a sucker for the scones.” He hitches a thumb at the large display case near the front.
A snort escapes me. “I bet you are. That doesn’t explain what you’re doing at my table.”
“You didn’t answer me.” He taps my phone that’s still face down.
“Think I did.”
Byron leans toward me and drops his voice. “Not with what I wanted to hear.”
My brain crackles. Fuck, he’s too close. His cologne is cool and crisp like a winter forest. The fresh scent overpowers the strong aroma of coffee, making my mouth water for an entirely different reason.
I stare at him, getting pulled under the dark surface of his eyes. The shades of brown are warm and inviting. It’s like the comfort of a trusted embrace, as if I know how that feels. Everything else fades away until it’s just me and him in neutral territory. That allows me to regain my composure.
The fluttery expression I give him is coy. “Sorry to disappoint, stud. My answer won’t change. You’re better off with anyone else.”
“What if I… sweeten the deal?” Kinky sex practically drips from Byron’s tone.
I squirm in my chair. Shame is quick to douse the flames. Dammit, he snared me again. He’s undefeated when it comes to me. This man needs to get taken down several notches.
My palm finds his leg under the table, squeezing gently. Byron just about jolts straight out of his seat. I allow my grin to spread at the victory.
“Problem?”
He tugs at his collar. “Just unexpected.”
“Isn’t this what you had in mind?” I drift my touch higher along rigid muscle and worn denim.
Byron rests his hand over mine. “Knock it off.”
My pride shrivels into a raisin. How dare he reject me. I rip myself away from his hovering proximity. My back bumps the wall when I put as much space between us as my corner seat will allow.
A thought occurs to me while I recover my dignity. “Did you know I was here? Or are the scones really that good?”
“I put out an alert on our town’s message board. The responses have been rolling in since you sat down an hour ago.” His shrug isn’t apologetic in the least.
Misguided betrayal threatens to choke me. “They gave you my location?”
“Without batting an eyelash.” He waves at them in gratitude.
And that’s my cue. I begin collecting my things, slugging the last of the delicious latte. Byron’s watchful gaze devours my rushed movements. He leans back in his chair, clearly not planning to leave.
“Got somewhere else to be?”
My legs manage to hold me steady under the weight of the crowd’s scrutiny. “Far away from you and your informants.”
That gets him on his feet. I duck around him, rushing for the door. A solid grip on my elbow slows me down.
“Not so fast, little menace. Do you have a place to stay?” Concern softens his voice.
The fact he overheard that conversation at the wedding needles me. “None of your business.”
Byron follows me out into the late autumn chill. “I’ll find you.”
My hurried steps slap the sidewalk. “I’d prefer if you didn’t.”
“Don’t care what you want. You make Ronnie happy. That’s all that matters.”
Frustration spikes into a thorn that demands a target. I whirl on him in a fluid motion. Whatever he sees on my face has him retreating backward into a narrow alley. The wind doesn’t touch us here, but a cloak of privacy does. It gives me the confidence to reclaim what’s mine.
My hips swing as I approach him. “What makes you happy, hmm?”