CHAPTER ONE
H eat engulfs me as Dixon strips off his boxers to reveal a cock larger than anatomically correct. That bad boy is better suited as a baseball bat to wreck house, especially a flooded basement like mine. As if his massive girth isn’t impressive enough, the man has several piercings studding his shaft. I’ve always wondered what that would feel like inside of me. Saliva pools in my mouth while nerves clench muscles that fear the approaching stretch.
I gulp and continue to stare shamelessly. “My vagina won’t survive your dicking.”
He smirks, revealing the pair of dimples that got me into this predicament. “Don’t worry, my beauty. You’ll take every inch and beg for more.”
“I seriously doubt that.” My intimate bits clamp in agreement.
“Spread wide and let me in.” Dixon settles himself between my thighs.
His tip nudges my entrance. I suck in a stilted breath. It does little to prepare me as his pierced thickness invades—
Someone knocks into my shoulder, sending my phone flying into the air. The thrill of my saucy read fades with my terror at the unknown fate of my beloved device. But the person who rammed into me snatches the soaring object out of midair.
“Caught it.” The masculine voice beams with pride.
I launch to my feet and whirl around to confront him, but immediately freeze. He seems just as shocked to be facing the distant past. Memories resurface while we continue our staring contest. The boy from my teenage fantasies has grown into a man so far out of my league I can’t believe he’s standing in this crowded coffee shop with me.
Our reunion was bound to happen eventually. It’s just probability. There’s a few thousand people in this community but it’s still small compared to most. Thanks to the very active rumor mill, it’s common knowledge that the former professional baseball player resides in Knox Creek. Drake Granger is a name frequently spouted around town, especially by beautiful bombshells in their early twenties with the freedom to dream big. Me on the other hand? I didn’t dare to hope that our paths would cross again. Yet here we are.
“Cassidy Brooks,” Drake breathes. His expression sobers suddenly. “Is it still Brooks?”
Whatever he says doesn’t register. I’m too busy sipping on the erotic elixir of his voice. The gravelly tone is a promise to provide endless pleasure. A whimper trickles from my parted lips. I blame the lingering effects of the scene I was reading. Or maybe it’s his eyes.
Their bottomless shade is the type of blue I could swim in until I forgot my own name Staring feels mandatory—and is most likely encouraged—which leads me to his full lips surrounded by dark stubble. I lower my gaze to his sculpted muscles barely concealed by a t-shirt, and immediately regret it. Now my fingers practically beg to stroke over those defined edges. And don’t even get me started on the colorful tattoos that decorate both of his arms.
Drake looks like he just stepped off the set of a photo shoot advertising seduction while I’m not certain I combed my hair this morning. The wild mane could stop traffic. It’s not like I anticipated him literally bumping into me. I inhale deeply, which is another mistake. He smells like the sex I’ve always dreamed of having.
Holy horse shit, hornball. Get ahold of yourself. He’s just a guy.
My reaction is purely based on the fact that I spend most of my days surrounded by farm animals and children. Not to mention the few men I interact with regularly are more weathered than an antique saddle. It’s humbling to admit I haven’t kept the company of an attractive male since… I can’t even remember when I stopped counting.
Drake clears his throat to knock me from that lost cause. An awkward minute has undoubtedly ticked by while I shamefully ogled him. Based on the curve of his smirk, he doesn’t seem to mind the attention.
It’s only then I recall he had said something that resembled a question. Maybe. One fact sticks out in the lustful fog my brain has become.
“You remember me?”
The notion is more presumptuous than I’d ever give myself credit for. I haven’t seen Drake since we were teenagers. Not only that but he went on to become a famous athlete who’s undoubtedly met more people than I can count.
His gaze heats on mine. “As if I’d ever forget my first kiss.”
I feel my eyes bulge. “We were just kids.”
“Doesn’t make it any less meaningful.” Drake’s blatant interest roves over me. “So?”
“Buttons,” I reply automatically.
“What?” His laugh is rich and bolder than the coffee aroma wafting around the cafe.
My cheeks get warm while fellow Bean Me Up patrons send us curious glances. “It’s just this silly retort my grandma used to toss out whenever someone used ‘so’ as a full sentence.” I chew on my bottom lip at his look of confusion. “Because you sew buttons on stuff…”
“Ah.” He nods.
My face flames hotter. “Told you it was silly.”
“I like it.” Drake’s shrug is carefree. “But what I’d like more is to know if your last name is still Brooks.”
“Is that your not-so-subtle way of asking if I’m married?”
“Can you blame me? You look…” His throat works hard to finish the statement. “Better than faded memories.”
“Should I take that as a compliment?”
His eyes remain glued on my curvy waist. “Definitely. Why didn’t we ever date?”
I squint at him. “Probably because you transferred to Edina before ninth grade.”
“Great decision for baseball,” he muses. “Not so great for us.”
“As if you have any regrets.”
He’s quiet for a pregnant pause. “Would you believe me if I said I think about you often?”
Flutters erupt in my stomach, but I can’t allow myself to get swept away in a long-lost fantasy. “Probably not.”
“It’s true, Cassidy…”
“Brooks,” I relent. “Never been married.”
“Me either.” Drake’s voice is smoother than churned butter. “What brings you to Knox Creek?”
“I live here.”
His jaw drops. “No shit? Since when?”
“A few years now.” The reminder of what brought me here tightens my chest. I rub at the sore spot that will never fully heal.
Another curse comes from Drake to break apart the emotional turbulence. “And this is the first I’m seeing of you?”
His upset mirrors my wonder from earlier. We grew up not too far from Knox Creek but it’s quite a coincidence we both relocated to this exact neck of the woods.
“I don’t come to Main Street often. Greener Pastures keeps me very occupied.”
“Your grandma’s place?” His memory is impressive.
“Mimi left the stable to me after she…” A spiky lump forms in my throat. “My mom never loved horses the way her mother did. Dad couldn’t care less. The property is mine now.”
“Damn, I had no idea she passed.” He scrubs the back of his neck. “I’m sorry.”
I sniffle at the burn in my nose. “Thanks.”
“Are you doing okay?”
My nod is too quick. “Yep, just fine.”
The lingering grief is too much to unpack for a simple exchange. Blubbering in public is a real mood killer. My focus slides around the busy coffee shop to give me a moment to collect my thoughts. In this brief lapse, I realize nobody seems to notice or care that Drake Granger is in our presence. He fits right in, which isn’t surprising in the least. But it does spark awareness and clarity.
Our reunion special distracted me from how this interaction started. Drake is still cradling my phone in his large palm as if it’s precious. The sight provides a welcome reprieve from the heavy topic we’d just waded into.
His attention follows mine to where the device rests. A furrow creases his forehead before his brows take a hike to his hairline. It takes me several seconds to realize he’s reading what’s on my screen.
I gasp. “Hey! That’s private.”
“Fuck yeah it is.” Glee is thick in his voice. “This is a dirty book, babe.”
The nickname—regardless of how generic—spreads tingles through my lower belly. That desire is only spurred on by the context of our conversation and what he just read.
“There’s nothing wrong with spicy romance,” I defend.
“Couldn’t agree more.” His tone is raspy as he returns his focus to the open page on my screen.
“Give me that.” I snatch my phone from his grip. “Nice catch, by the way.”
“Kinda known for it. Couldn’t let my record slip, even if I’m retired.” He cocks his head while I tuck away the evidence. “That’s pretty steamy stuff. Cassidy Brooks has a naughty streak. Who knew?”
I roll my eyes. “Quit overthinking it. I love to read when I have a moment to spare. Simple as that. It’s a guilty pleasure and helps me unwind.”
“Mhmm, I can see why.” His timbre is still saturated in suggestive undertones.
“Must you make it sound so crude?”
“Not my fault this subject matter is so… titillating. Is there any other choice?”
“Nope, guess not.” A huff escapes me, and I begin packing my things.
Drake clasps my elbow. “Hey, don’t run off. I wasn’t trying to make you uncomfortable.”
I pause my retreat. “You didn’t. I’m just tired of defending my books.”
“Did you think I was being a judgmental dick?”
“It’s fine. I’m used to it.”
He blanches. “I sure hope not, or I’ll be collecting their names.”
I wave off his concern. “The only romance I can manage is fictional. It’s why I’m perpetually single and prefer the company of horses.”
“Well, that answers that.” His comment doesn’t make sense until I notice where his attention has swerved.
I inwardly groan at the shirt I’m wearing, not having the courage to glance down. But my avoidance doesn’t erase the picture stamped across my chest. A cartoon kitten is meowing the words One Whisker Short of Crazy Cat Lady . It’s comical, but slightly embarrassing in this instance.
“Give me a break. It’s laundry day. Had I known a man who puts book boyfriends to shame would be here, I would’ve dressed the part.”
A sly grin slants his lips. “And what part is that?”
“Uh…” Shit, I’m horribly out of practice. “Just something… more appropriate.”
“Such as?”
I pull in a deep breath. Might as well step into character and make it worth his while. “Thigh-high boots, fishnet stockings, and a lace garter belt for starters, big daddy.”
An obnoxious groan spills from him, paired with a full body shudder. His display snags the attention of several women sitting nearby. “Fuck, yeah. I’d love to see that.”
My lashes flutter at an exaggerated speed. “In your dreams.”
A dimple pops in his scruffy cheek. “Or you could let me lend a hand with your laundry.”
“What does that have to do with anything?”
“I’ll strip off your clothes and toss them in the washer before scrubbing you clean. Vigorously.”
My mind whirls in a flustered spin cycle. “Oh, boy. Are you… coming onto me for real?”
“Coming onto me,” he echoes like a breeze. “Um, yeah. I’d very much like to come all over you.”
A low tune whistles from me. “You’re really quick with the smutty banter, huh?”
His brows bounce. “Only with proper motivation.”
“Good grief. Does this usually work for you?” I motion at him and his attempt at getting in my pants.
“You tell me.”
“Yeah, no. We’re not on equal playing fields. I’m going to leave before I make a fool of myself.” My shoes squeak on the tiles as I begin a hasty backpedal.
Drake’s large hand returns to my arm, his skin toasty against mine. “Whoa, whoa, Cass. What’s the hurry?”
Other than him acting like we’re fuck buddies after being reacquainted for five minutes? I knew him as a flirtatious boy, but this man is something else entirely.It’s not entirely unexpected considering his career in the spotlight. That doesn’t mean he should assume I’ll become his latest conquest. Our previous connection is the only reason I’m still standing here.
A quick peek at my watch reveals that my precious free time has already dwindled to ten minutes. “I’m giving a lesson at one o’clock. My day is booked solid from there.”
“How do I make an appointment?”
I quirk a disbelieving brow. “You want to ride a horse?”
“Or a very sassy redhead. Allow me to slide into this tight schedule of yours.”
Hysterical laughter nearly bends me in half. This must be a joke. “Pass.”
“What can I do to change your mind?”
“Nothing,” I quip. “I’m not interested.”
“That’s a shame. We could recreate that scene you were reading, my beauty.”
I huff at the familiar term of endearment. “Not funny.”
“C’mon,” he urges. “Let me be your Dixon.”
My amusement fades. “You’re serious?”
His smile is a slow upward stretch, like a gambler about to win the jackpot. “I’ll help you unwind. Personally. Intimately. Carnally.”
Neglected arousal attempts to cloud my better judgment and I almost agree. Resolve straightens my spine in the next instant. “I’m not going to sleep with you.”
His eyes dance with humor. “You’re totally thinking about it.”
“I’m not.” But I most definitely am. Most in my position would do the same.
Drake’s expression turns almost sheepish. “Will you at least give me your number? I’ll behave moving forward. For the most part. Promise.” He releases a weighty exhale. “In all honesty, I’m not sure what came over me. There’s just something about you that struck me deep, but I’ve clearly overstepped. Can I get another chance?”
For a blissful moment, I imagine doing just that. He’d call. We’d flirt. A passionate fling would kick off from there. It would be unforgettable and satisfying—but ultimately temporary.
That reminder bursts my bubble. Reality replaces wishful thinking. I’m not the type to do casual. Hell, I can’t even fathom a quick bang to scratch an itch. My responsibilities are complicated and demanding.
A drawn-out sigh escapes me. “Unfortunately, my availability is very limited.”
“Lucky for you, I’m wide open and very flexible.”
I roll my lips between my teeth to trap a giggle. “It’s probably best to appreciate this moment we were given and go our separate ways. We’re obviously in the market for different things. I enjoyed bumping into you, though.”
Drake chuckles. “Is that your attempt at letting me down gently?”
“Sure?”
“I do like to go down, but there’s nothing gentle about my methods. More like thorough and complex.” The determined charmer winks. “You’ll learn that about me as we get to know each other better.”
“But—”
He shakes his head to cut me off. “Just let it happen. What’s meant to be will find a way, right?”
“If you say so.”
“I do,” he rasps.
“Um, okay. Until then, I guess.” There’s not much else to say. I have a sneaking suspicion that he’s not the sort to surrender willingly.
As if to prove my point, Drake steps into my space until he’s towering over me—but then smirks, those delicious dimples on full display. I feel my resolve crumbling in real time. “Same time tomorrow, beauty?”