Chapter 3

3

SLOANE

I t was a good thing Bryce wasn't the one with a cup of coffee. If he had any liquid in his mouth, my words would have choked him for sure.

Instead, he just stared at me, and I was the one who took a sip. A long, slow sip from what was my third cup of coffee of the morning.

He opened his mouth to respond, and I found myself holding my breath. But rather than saying something, his face changed again. This time, it switched to a frown. And that was when I heard a buzz as he pulled his phone from his pocket.

"I'll be right back," he said.

He turned his back and walked in the direction Nadine had taken a couple of minutes earlier. I was left thinking through what I'd just said.

Did this count as hitting on a guy? I was asking him to take my virginity, so it probably went well beyond hitting on him. This was propositioning.

I made a face and turned, taking the lid off my coffee and grabbing some of the small cups of creamer next to the coffeemaker. That kept me busy while I listened to Bryce talking about tarps. He hung up one call and made another, each lasting only a minute or two. Someone was picking up tarps because Bryce couldn't do it.

When I turned back around, he was walking toward me, shoving the phone into his pocket. He didn't stop near the island, instead continuing toward me. Was he going to do it? Maybe he'd kiss me. We could work out the details of my deflowering later.

But he wasn't heading for me. Not for a kiss or anything else. Instead, he stopped in front of the coffeemaker, standing just a couple of feet away from me.

"Okay, now, exactly what were you saying?" he asked as he slipped one of the capsules into the holder and lowered the lid on top of it.

I groaned inwardly as my eyes slid shut. He was going to make me repeat that? I couldn't believe I'd said it in the first place.

But it was exactly what I'd come here to do. If I didn't speak up now, who knew what would happen when we both walked out of here? He could go back to whatever his work was for the day, and I'd never know what his answer might have been.

"I'm a virgin," I said.

Then I took another sip of my coffee. At that point, it was clear I was hiding behind the cup. It was the equivalent of hopping in bed and pulling the sheets over my head and hiding.

"And you want someone to deflower you," he said. "That's why you came to Rosewood Ridge."

"That's why all four of us came to Rosewood Ridge," I said. "My three friends are virgins too. People were talking about all the hot mountain men in towns like this, living alone in cabins." I took a deep breath. "We were all saying we wished we could do something to help out here before we even saw the video with your friend."

He laughed. "Jax isn't my friend. He stays to himself."

"As all mountain men do, right?" I asked.

He withdrew the now-full cup and reached over to grab sugar. In the process, his chest came within inches of my left arm. The air around us suddenly felt electrified, and my entire body gravitated toward his. I actually had to fight to stay rooted to this spot.

"No," he said, then stepped back, taking a sip and setting his cup on the countertop. He ripped open three sugar packets and shook the contents of each into his coffee. "I like to be alone myself, but Jax takes it to a new level," Bryce said. "He was a SEAL, you know."

Eyes wide, I shook my head. "Impressive."

"I guess he saw a lot of shit, but whatever he went through still seems to haunt him to this day," Bryce said. "He doesn't want all this attention. I'd bet my last dollar on that one."

He tossed the empty sugar packets in the small trash can, where they joined my empty creamer cups, and turned to face me. He didn't even bother putting a lid on—he just lifted the cup to his mouth and took a bunch of vigorous swallows.

"He sounds perfect for my friend Tess," I said with a laugh. "She likes the quiet, brooding type of guys."

"And you don't see me as quiet and brooding?"

Was he offended by that? Maybe "bothered" was a better word.

I didn't see quiet and brooding as a good thing, necessarily. In fact, the mopey guys who wore hoodies and never talked to anyone never really got my attention. I liked the friendly, approachable type.

"You seem pretty noisy to me," I said, adding a smile to let him know I was teasing. Or did this count as flirting? "So what kind of work are you doing today? Do you need me to help?"

He stopped everything to stare at me, not moving for a long enough time that I started wondering if he'd kiss me. He didn't have a look on his face that hinted he might do that, so it was probably wishful thinking on my part. But a girl could dream.

"Aren't you forgetting something?" he asked.

Oh, crap. He was asking about the "deflowering" comment I made earlier. I took a deep breath and prepared to address it directly.

"Maybe after the workday's finished?" I asked. "I'm in room 108 at the retreat center. I think they're doing a dinner for all the volunteers. We could do it after that."

His expression didn't change. It was completely neutral. That meant it was also unreadable.

"I'm talking about the bear claw," he said. "But room 108. Noted."

He tapped on his forehead, gave me a smile, then turned, carrying his cup of coffee out the door.