Love Like Lightning: A Small Town Romance (Wright Brothers Book 2)

1. Gianna

October

When I flewinto the Denver airport last night, I didn’t realize I would have to drive another four and a half hours to reach my destination. Cameron hadn’t given me much information. He just said he needed me at a very important meeting in Colorado. And it was; I’m glad I came for it, despite it not going well.

Okay, and I may have forgotten to save the address, but I’ve been a bit distracted. If it’s not number related, sometimes my brain just skims over it anyway.

Cam and I have worked together many times in the past, and he’s made it very clear that he admires my “math mind,” as he calls it. He knows me well enough to recognize my shortcomings, which is why he shot me a text before I got on my flight, telling me explicitly where I was headed.

His call for this potential project couldn’t have come at a better time. It’s been two weeks since I broke up with a man who was never worth my time. Too bad it took me over a year to figure that out. Again. My less than stellar track record with men is probably my least favorable quality.

Or my messy tendencies.

Depends who you ask.

My best friend and cousin, Simone, says that it’s my fault I always end up in these situations. As if I intentionally choose to date men who end up breaking my heart and treating me like crap. As if I should just assume that someone I met through one of my cousins would end up being a man child who doesn’t know how to be in a relationship.

Or do laundry.

As if that’s something I’d do knowingly.

After the most recent situation, a getaway thousands of miles away from Boston is definitely in order. Even if it’s only for two nights. I didn’t even mind that it’s work related or that it’s going by so quickly. Work tends to serve as a good distraction for me, a happy one even.

Me and numbers are peas in a pod. They won’t tell me that I should try more with their friends.

Or in bed.

Maybe I’d try more if it was worth it.

Anyway, it’s been nice to be somewhere new.

Unfortunately, the meeting didn’t go exactly as Cam thought it would. The business owners we met with, a married couple, need some serious help. Honestly, they should have called us earlier. Or anyone else. They definitely need a business restructuring consultant. Something. Someone to crunch the numbers and figure out how they can move forward.

Things don”t look all that great business-wise, but they also don”t seem to be on the same page about how to move forward. The husband has been seriously considering selling, but the wife has a lot of fight left in her.

That can get tricky, especially when it comes to family businesses. But we presented our ideas and some loose prospective plans to hopefully get the business back in the black, and that’s all we can do.

Now, we wait.

I’m not holding my breath; I get the feeling that we won”t hear from them again. But in the meantime, I”ve got an evening to kill before I have to drive back to Denver in the morning for a late afternoon flight.

I grabbed dinner at a cute diner called Daisy’s, where I had probably the best plate of pancakes in existence. They even had pure maple syrup available, which, for someone from the northeast, is an absolute godsend.

Now I’ve taken up residence at a bar called The Well, drinking alone. I decided to allow myself a few hours to mope over my latest failed relationship and then hopefully move on. I have a room at the bed and breakfast right here in town, so I can get properly sloshed and walk my pitiful ass home after.

“What’s got you looking so forlorn, hun?” The bartender, an older white woman who introduced herself as Betty, wipes the bar top with a cloth and gives me a stern, almost motherly look.

And because bartenders, in my experience, are the therapists of the hospitality industry, I actually tell her. “Bad break-up. Another bad break-up.”

“Ah.” Without another word, she turns to tend to the other guests standing at the bar. Not exactly the warm conversation I was expecting, but she’s clearly busy. I drink some more of my beer. It’s a Pilsner that I wanted to try, though I’m more of a cocktail girl. It’s fine, but a bit bitter for my taste. I’m not in love with it.

A small commotion draws my attention to the entrance, and a group of two women and three men walks in. The shorter woman has blonde hair; the other is much taller with long chestnut-colored hair. Both are beautiful in their own ways. The three men…well, they’re all incredibly attractive too. They could also all be brothers from the looks of it. The one holding the blonde’s hand is tall with dark, curly hair. Directly behind him is another man who is just a hair taller, but his hair is more dirty blond, and it’s cropped close to his head. Eyes hard, lips turned down into a harsh frown. Very much giving off a “don’t even look at me” vibe. Charming. Even so, there’s a distinct resemblance between their features.

It’s the last one who catches my eye, though, and I’m not entirely sure why. Well, his height definitely doesn’t hurt. He’s the tallest of the group, probably coming in around six-three, maybe even six-four. Fair skin, seemingly untouched by the sun. His hair is the same chestnut color as the tall girl’s, and it’s short on the sides and a little longer on top. Long enough that there’s a bit of a curl. But it’s his smile that draws me in instantly.

They all make their way to the bar, just a few seats away from me. All the while, I can’t take my eyes off him. That grin hasn’t left his face since he stepped through the door. There’s a youthful warmth to it that makes me want to smile myself.

Yeah, I guess it’s going to be one of those nights.

Sternly dismissing those thoughts from my head, I turn back to my beer. I’m keenly aware of the group as they collect their drinks and move away from the bar and across the room toward the back.

With them out of sight, my thoughts start to drift back to my ex. Suddenly, a shot glass full of clear liquid appears in front of me. Looking up, Betty gives me a grim smile across the bar with another shot glass in her hand.

“This one’s on me.” She raises the glass and throws back the shot, barely making a face.

I pick up my own, hold it up in thanks, and throw it back. Straight tequila burns its way down my throat to my stomach, leaving flames licking my insides in its wake. The smell of it almost makes me gag, but I somehow hold it back.

I’m sure I grimace. While I’ve enjoyed tequila in the past, I don’t shoot it anymore. I retired from that practice on my last birthday. At twenty-seven, I should probably give up shots completely. I can’t handle them as well as I could at twenty-two.

“You let me know if you need another, yeah?”

“Thank you, Betty.” I muster up a smile for her before gulping some beer to try to wash away the taste of the tequila.

She collects my shot glass and returns to slinging drinks to the crowd.

After a minute, I dig out my phone and pull up a book that I downloaded on the plane. Some people may think I’m uncool for drinking solo at a bar while reading, but I don’t care. It’s far too early to go sit alone in my room, and even if I’m technically not here with anyone, sitting at the bar with all these people around makes me feel slightly less alone.

And that’s more than enough for me at the moment.

One more beer and another tequila shot deep, and I’m having a hard time not laughing out loud at the book I’m reading. It’s a paranormal polyamorous story, and the characters are hilarious. Betty came by and placed a glass of water in front of me a little while ago, probably not wanting me to get sloppy drunk at her bar. So I alternate small sips of water and my beer.

Before I can turn another page in my e-book, I become hyper aware of someone standing right next to me at the bar. People have come and gone all night, but my body hasn’t reacted like this to anyone else. When I quickly glance to my left, the tall, smiling man I noticed earlier is there.

Does he ever not smile? He’s close enough now that I can make out a distinct dimple in his right cheek. Glancing my way, he catches me staring. I must be tipsier than I thought, because I don’t look away for a long moment. My eyes lock with his hazel ones, and his smile turns into something flirtier. Quickly turning back to my book, I try to refocus, only to feel my cheeks heat when I realize I’m at a sex scene.

Of course I am.

I can’t read, not while I still feel his eyes on me, so I just stare at my phone without processing anything on the screen. I’m not sure how long I sit there, studiously ignoring him, but I hear Betty walk over and take his order, and I notice his deep, kind voice.

“Hey, I don’t know you.” Those words must be directed at me.

I glance his way again and find his eyes fixed on me. They’re really quite beautiful eyes. Hazel with flecks of gold ringing his irises. Green and brown surrounding the gold.

“No, you don’t.” My eyes drop down to his lips. His smile, I mean his smile. And I glance away again, grabbing my beer and drinking it down to the last drop.

“Are you from out of town?” He shifts so he’s facing me instead of the bar. “That was a stupid question. I’d know if you were an Ever Lake local. Where are you from?”

Biting the corner of my lower lip, I return my gaze to his and make an honest effort to not let it dip lower than his eyes. I try; I really do, but even so, I flick my eyes down to his lips. He’s got such great lips. Full, totally kissable. His bottom lip is slightly fuller than the top.

Gianna, we’ve sworn off men, remember? No men. No lips.

“Boston.” Maybe if I keep my answers short, he’ll lose interest.

Betty walks back over and deposits several drinks in front of him. He hands her a card with a thank you and turns back to me.

“I’ve never been. What brings you out here?” He leans closer so he can hear me over the noise in the bar.

“A business meeting.”

“Oh.” His smile somehow grows, and it only makes his face even more beautiful. “A businesswoman, huh? What kind of business?”

He seems so genuinely interested that I tell him. Not as much as I could, but most people start to tune out when I get too into the math of it all. “I work with numbers. Accounting mostly, business finances. Mostly helping businesses out. Stuff like that.”

“You’re smart.” His eyebrows raise as he nods his head.

“Uh, yeah, I am. Thanks?” Glancing down to my phone, I wonder how I can get out of this suddenly awkward interaction.

He shakes his head, seeming just as weirded out by the comment he made as I am. “I’m sorry. I don’t know why I said that. I meant to say that your job sounds interesting and that you must be really smart. I seem to be off my game tonight.” A coy smile tugs at his lips, and a soft blush spreads across his cheeks.

He looks genuinely flustered, and it sounds like he usually has far better game than he’s exhibiting right now. Maybe that’s why I continue to indulge him.

“Let’s just start over. What do you do for work?”

“Just the resident handyman. Nothing too exciting. Not like what you do.”

Exciting? I’m not sure I’ve ever gotten that response from someone when I told them what I do. It surprises me, but I’m sure if I went into any more detail, he’d probably change his tune.

Betty wanders over and places his card on the bar in front of him, glancing between the two of us with interest in her eyes. He picks up the card, signs the receipt, and slides the card back into his wallet, but he still doesn’t take his drinks and return to his friends.

“Don’t you think your friends will be wanting their drinks?” I’m fighting against a very small part of me that wants to continue this conversation. A much larger part of me knows that I’m not here to talk to a hot local and keep him from his night out.

Maybe I could be the kind of person who gets over a breakup by distracting myself with someone new…

“Nah.”

“Nah? Are those drinks not for them?”

“I’d much rather be here talking to you.” His eyes never leave mine, and the intensity in them ratchets up a notch.

“Yeah? Do you regularly abandon your friends in favor of chatting someone up?” The question comes out of nowhere. I don’t usually talk like this, but when there’s a flicker of true interest in his eyes, I like it.

“Not always, but when the person in question is pretty and seems interesting, I might make them wait a little longer than usual for their drinks.”

“Really?” Something possesses me to play along with his little flirtation. “So you’re saying I’m pretty? And interesting? How could you possibly know that I’m interesting?”

His smile grows, and he shifts closer to me. “Well, I could always find out if my guess is true. I’m definitely interested.”

He’s…interested? My heart beats hard in my chest, and a blush warms my cheeks.

Oh. Nope.

“Listen, I appreciate it, but maybe you should return to your friends.” I lean away from him, aware that my body has been naturally gravitating toward him.

He immediately takes a step back, giving me some much-needed space. “Hey, sorry. I know I’m a flirt. If I made you uncomfortable, I didn’t mean to.” His smile finally dims, and the sight of it actually stings a bit. He gathers the drinks in front of him in both hands and tips his head in goodbye.

“Wait.” I reach out and touch his sleeve. When he turns, my fingers brush against the warm skin of his wrist. Lightning whips through me, burning me up from the inside out, and I bite back a gasp.

Pulling my arm back, I try to wipe the shock of the reaction off of my face. “I’m sorry. I just came here to be alone and have a few drinks. I don’t mind the flirting. But I also don’t want to keep you from your friends. And I just got to a good part in my book. It’s bad timing, is all.” I don’t add that the bad timing is further complicated by the fact that I’m off men for the foreseeable future. And that I’m flying back to Boston tomorrow.

“You’re probably right. It’s my brother and his girlfriend’s going away party tonight, and I really should be getting back. But…” His lips quirk up again.

“But?”

“But I’d like to see you again.” His eyes widen slightly, and there’s definitely a subtle suggestion in his words.

I should feel affronted by his boldness. I should say no immediately. I shouldn’t even be considering his offer. But that awareness from before returns in full force, and my entire body sizzles under his stare.

“Ah, last night in town, unfortunately.” I don”t even have to feign the frown. Somewhere deep inside, I”m disappointed that I don”t have another day in town to get to know this guy.

Right, because that’s what he wants to do. Get to know you.

“I”m staying at the bed and breakfast.” My cheeks heat at my impulsive admission. A buzz of recklessness zips through my veins. I don”t know if it”s just the tequila, or if maybe this man inspires it, but it feels wild.

And I like it.

That grin that slipped away just moments ago is back and brighter than ever. “Well, maybe we”ll run into each other a little later on…” He looks at me expectantly.

“Gianna, or Gia. Nice to meet you.” I don’t try to shake his hand since both of them are full, but I grin right back at him.

“Gianna, a beautiful name for a beautiful woman.”

The line doesn’t sound cheesy coming out of his mouth. Unfortunately. But I still roll my eyes.

“I’m not drinking, FYI. Just so you know, in case we do run into each other later.”

That’s kind of a weird line. I”m not sure why he would feel the need to—Oh. Okay. Wow. I make a very conscious decision to not respond to that comment even as I quietly deciding to close my tab and sip on water for the rest of my night.

“And what’s your name?”

He goes to respond but seems to stumble over his answer, eyebrows furrowing before he finally speaks.

He shoots me a heated look, and just before he walks off into the crowd, he answers me.

“Henry.”