Chapter 2

2

Tristan

E ven living out in the middle of nowhere, the rumor mill was still rampant in Cherry Falls. That’s how I knew the moment Dolly Case stepped back into town.

I’d gotten the call from Ryker, not only a coworker at Blake Brothers Auto Repair where I worked, but also a man I considered a friend. He also ran his mouth more freely than any churchgoing grandmother at Sunday dinner with a purse full of gossip. And therein was my problem—when I’d gotten too drunk three years back, admitted this burning obsession I had for Dolly, and Ryker still hadn’t let me live it down.

And since getting that call, I hadn’t been able to think about anything else. Of course that wasn't saying much when Dolly had been on my mind more times over the last four years than I cared to admit out loud.

I brought the ax over my head and swung it down, splitting the log in half, the two pieces falling away. Although it was December, the sun was out, and most of the snow had melted.

I didn’t need to be chopping wood, had an entire season's worth stacked up in the shed. But I needed something to keep me busy, manual labor that was taxing and that exhausted me.

So here I was, splitting wood I didn’t even need, trying to not think about Dolly Case, and failing fucking miserably.

Dolly was sixteen years younger than me, and I’d never looked at her as someone who I’d ever be with, her age an obstacle I wasn’t about to try and hurdle.

She was too innocent. And to be honest… she was too good for me.

I’d been living in Cherry Falls for the past fifteen years, since I was twenty-two, and never once looked back. My life before Cherry Falls had been hard, and it had mainly been my doing. I’d wanted a fresh start, a new life.

Fighting, drinking, and being labeled the “bad boy” back “home” had worked its way deep into my soul until I’d always felt like I would never amount to anything much.

I’d made my money—good money—doing underground fights, back-alley brawls. It had been the only life I’d known, and I’d embraced the fuck out of it.

I’d been told so many times I wasn’t good enough to be anything more than I was, not just by my deadbeat, alcoholic father, but also from many people who’d been close enough to me to run their mouths.

And I’d accepted it, embraced it until it got to the point that when someone said my name they automatically assumed I was either in jail, had beaten someone up, or was lying in a ditch because my hard life had finally caught up with me.

And it was then, after my father died from a DUI, when I stumbled home after partying for three days straight and looked at myself in the mirror, that I knew it was time for a change. I had no family, no parents, people I associated with who only saw me as the dude they had a good time with, the “friend” who had a short fuse and could beat the shit out of someone just for looking at him the wrong way.

I was tired of being that guy . I was tired of being the bad boy.

So here I was, Cherry Falls the fresh start I’d needed to turn my life around totally. I got a job as the best motorcycle mechanic at Blake Auto. I kept to myself, worked on purchasing land, and finally built a place I could call my own. And I made that my reality not too long after I moved to the small, picturesque town.

I picked up one of the split logs and threw it over with the other pile off to the side. Sweat rolled down my temples, and I picked up the bottom of my shirt and wiped off my face.

I brought my wrist up and looked at my watch, checking the time, knowing I could’ve probably done another handful of logs before heading into work, but there was a strange, buzzing energy moving through me. Fuck… just because I could see Dolly’s car at the shop, just so I could see a piece of her .

I was fucked.

At only twenty-two, Dolly certainly shouldn’t have been on my radar, especially since I had known her since she barely came up to anyone’s knees. But I remember the day I saw her and noticed how she wasn’t a child anymore, but a full-grown woman about to head off to college.

Her father had given her a going away party, something that had been thrown together in the park at the town square. It had been an open invitation, and many Cherry Falls residents came, enjoying the barbecue and handing out grad gifts and well wishes.

I shouldn't have gone, should have left, yet I found myself staying, keeping to the shadows like a predator because I’d seen Dolly in a whole new light.

A dangerous light.

The kind that made a man obsessed and willing to do anything to make her mine.

I remember that night, how I couldn’t stop looking at the way her little white dress with the pink flowers hugged her curves. At eighteen, she was built like a woman, curvy and full, thick and… perfect.

Mine.

But I hadn’t made a move, didn’t even say one word to her. And over the years of her being away, when I saw her the few times she came to town to see her father on breaks, I felt that need for her grow even more intense.

Because those times I’d seen her were like giving me a cold glass of water as I crawled through the dry desert.

Of course I knew wanting her “wasn’t right.” I’d told myself that a hell of a lot. But fuck if I couldn’t stop myself or my need. And I felt that obsessive burn brightly in me, that possessive need to finally go after what I wanted.

I pushed those thoughts away—tried like hell anyway—and cleaned up. Half an hour later, I was showered and dressed and pulled my pick-up truck into the parking lot of the auto shop. As one of the best damn motorcycle mechanics in town, I was good at my job.

I could fix anything, my hands like the paintbrush of an artist, meticulously precise like a surgeon working on a heart. I could fix a lot of shit, but I hadn't been able to fix my life for a long-ass time. But things change; people could change. And I’d been living with that motto for fifteen years.

I parked my truck and killed the engine. When I saw her car in the lot, something tightened in the pit of my stomach. I wanted to fix her car for the simple fact I wanted to make sure she was safe on the road… I wanted to know she was cared for.

I exhaled roughly at that thought and scrubbed a hand over my face, telling myself I was in over my head where Dolly was concerned. What I felt was suddenly moving so fast through me, a freight train that had been derailed and heading right for the city to decimate everything in its path.

I climbed out and headed inside, seeing Ryker already working on the engine of an old-school Mustang, grease covering his face and neck, the steady bump of music coming from the speakers overhead. He lifted his head as if sensing me, his grin slow and knowing. He tipped his head out of the bay doors, and I knew he was gesturing toward Dolly’s car.

“Saved it for you.”

I grunted in acknowledgement but otherwise kept my mouth shut.

“Figured you’d want to get your hands on it—hell, assumed you’d be the only one to want to fix it up.”

He thought right, but of course I didn’t say that either.

After getting her car in the garage, for the next hour I worked on figuring out what was wrong with Dolly’s tiny, aged compact. I’d opened the driver’s side door and instantly smelled the sweet scent of her . It was hints of vanilla and honeysuckle, an aroma that instantly had my cock harder than steel.

“She called for a tow,” Ryker said, but I didn’t look at him. “Picked her up and took her and the car here.”

I kept my head under the hood of her car but didn’t tell him to stop. I wanted to know anything about Dolly, even the littlest bit of information. I was like a starving dog being tempted with the best piece of steak. “Made small talk and all that shit. She’s staying at her old man's place, you know, that property that was for sale in the middle of fucking nowhere.”

I grunted, the small noise encouraging him to go on.

“She graduated with some degree in art but couldn’t deal with city life, not that I fucking blame her.” He went back to work on the engine he was tinkering with. “You know she’s a fucking dancer, man? Ballet. Not that I know anything about that, but I thought it was pretty fucking cool. Never knew a professional dancer in my life. Anyway,” he said and tossed the wrench he’d been using into the toolbox and got a different one. “She couldn’t find a job and was homesick, so here she is, back in Cherry Falls.” The clank of metal on metal proceeded his words. “Said she’s only staying with her dad until she can find a place in town. Said he’s got one room and no way in hell she’s sleeping on the couch for the foreseeable future.”

He chuckled, and I could hear how he was already smitten with her. How could anyone not be? Not only was she beautiful, she was sweet as sugar and kind as fuck. If I didn’t know for a fact he wouldn’t try anything on her for the simple fact he knew my feelings regarding Dolly, I would have beat his ass for the tone in his voice.

I stayed silent as he kept talking, telling me what she looked like now, which grated on my fucking nerves because I knew how beautiful she was, and hearing Ryker talk about that fact made the jealous, possessive side of me rise up fucking brutally. I found myself growling and narrowing a glance in his direction, which had Ryker chuckling and holding his hands up in surrender, but he was grinning.

“So what do you plan on doing?”

I grabbed a rag and wiped my hands, avoiding Ryker’s gaze because I felt him watching me closely. “What am I going to do about what?”

I tossed the rag aside and went back to working on Dolly’s car, but I was getting nowhere because my thoughts were consumed with Dolly and what Ryker said. Of course I knew what the fuck he was talking about, but I didn’t want to go into it, especially not with him.

“Dude, you know exactly what I’m talking about.”

The hard tone of his voice had me glancing up at him and straightening to my full height. Although I glowered down at him, he wasn’t moved, showed no fear. He was one of the only people who I couldn’t intimidate with my height and size alone, which I’d done shamelessly back in my old life.

“What are you gonna do now that Dolly’s back in town for good?”

I lifted an eyebrow and crossed my arms over my chest. He rolled his eyes and exhaled.

“Listen, I could give two shits what you do with your personal life, and you may have been drunk as shit when you confessed how you felt about her, but I remember that night pretty fucking well, Tristan, and I’ve never seen you spit poetry over a female. Hell, I’ve never seen you speak that passionately over anyone or anything before.”

“I was drunk,” I said matter-of-factly, but he and I both knew it was a load of shit. I meant every single word I’d said to him that night, how I told him looking at her made my heart feel funny, how it beat for the first time in my fucking life. The very thought of her not in my life was almost painful, like if I didn’t have her as mine I wasn't fully living.

I shouldn’t have thought any of this. I shouldn’t have played with the idea of trying to get her to be mine.

But I told that inner voice to fuck off, because right then and there I devised a plan to make Dolly mine.