Chapter 4

TAMMY

The first day I spent with Macy and Dillon felt like a hundred years. I had no idea children were so exhausting. I was really impressed by Macy's patience when Nicky and Daisy refused to eat their vegetables and ran circles around the kitchen table. I did everything I could to help out, including taking the kids on a bug-hunting expedition. We confiscated an old pickle jar and punched holes in the lid. Then we tromped around the cabin, turning over rocks and picking up scurrying creatures.

It was a little bit gross, and definitely not something I would have done in Austin. But the kids loved it. We took the jar back inside, and Macy even let them put a little bit of bread in the bottom to feed the new "pets." As soon as the kids went to bed, Macy scooped up the jar full of critters and emptied it out in the driveway. We laughed and drank beers while we cleaned the cabin. Dillon had been working all day and finally resurfaced around ten at night.

Macy and I both went to bed early. They didn't have a lot of extra space, but they set up a cot for me in the laundry room. It had a door that locked and a closet for me to put my things. I would just have to vacate the area once or twice a week when Macy did the family's washing.

The next day was almost a repeat of the first, except without the bugs. This time I convinced the children to create artwork out of old cereal boxes and toilet paper tubes. At the rate I was going, I would be a kindergarten teacher soon. Dillon must have had some kind of important contract, because he was locked in his office all day once again. When Macy and I finally got the kids to sleep and Dillon took a break, we sat on the couch debating our options.

"I've got an idea," Macy said. "Let's not call it a night early this time."

"I'm game," I said.

"Let's take you out to a bar and get you laid," she suggested.

I looked at Dillon in horror and saw that he was laughing. "I'm not ready for a relationship," I stammered.

"Not a relationship," Macy clarified. "How long has it been since you've been with a man?"

I couldn't believe I was really having this conversation. Macy wasn't old enough to be my mom, but she was old enough to be my big sister. Wasn't this topic taboo in families like ours?

"The guy that you brought to the last family gathering," Macy continued, "what was his name?"

"Greg," I supplied.

"Greg," she repeated. "Was he the last?"

I twisted my fingers nervously around my beer bottle. "No."

"Who else?" she demanded.

"There was a guy," I started, checking with Dillon to see if he was okay with the subject.

He raised his eyebrows and took a drink. I guessed that was the closest to a "go ahead" I was going to get.

"I thought we were serious, but he was all over Instagram with another woman. Apparently, I was the side piece."

Macy reached out to pat my hand. "I'm sorry. I just assumed that because you were out here alone, you were single."

"I am," I said.

"So…" She wiggled her finger at me as if she were spinning straw into gold. "That's why we have to go out and find you a man."

"But I'm perfectly happy without a man," I complained.

"Just for the night," Macy said.

"Do you approve?" I asked Dillon.

"I was a monk before I met Macy." Dillon winked.

"You were not." Macy found a baby sock on the couch and threw it at him.

"You don't have to worry about your safety," he said seriously. "Nobody in this town is gonna mess with you. Go out and have fun, if that's what you want."

I considered it. Maybe Macy was right. It had been a long time since I let my hair down. My life had been grief and guilt and work with a little betrayal thrown in for good measure. Now that I had moved all my belongings and changed the view out my window, maybe it was time to let loose. I had never had a one-night stand before. I understood the concept but wondered if I really had what it would take to seduce a man so quickly.

"I don't have anything to wear," I said.

Macy stood up, offered me her hand, and dragged me to her closet. We went all the way to the back to the clothes she hadn't worn since Nicky had been born. Behind all the house dresses and business suits, there was a little black dress that fit me perfectly. I examined myself in the mirror, twisting and turning to try to get a look at my butt.

"It looks great!" Macy clapped. "Now, let me throw something on, and we'll get out of here."

It seemed like I was committed. I left Macy alone to change and found Dillon watching television. He nodded appreciatively, like he thought I was pretty but not much of a competition for football. I waited patiently until Macy emerged, dressed in one of her sexier work outfits. It was a blue dress that stopped right below the knee. The sides were fitted and the neckline low. If you didn't know any better, you might think it had been designed for an evening on the town.

She stopped to kiss Dillon on the top of his head. "Thanks for watching the kids."

"Home by midnight," he said, as if this was a well-established ritual.

We hopped into her car and drove ten minutes to a local bar. It was right across the street from a fancy hotel, a picture of a buxom woman with a pint in her hand painted on the glass. Macy pushed the door open and walked in, immediately absorbed into a world of music and laughter. I followed quietly, trying to summon my inner party child. It had been years since I kicked loose like this, hitting up clubs late at night. I was much more comfortable with a book and a cup of coffee or a jog along a well-lit path.

I was here on a mission, I reminded myself. I was going to snag a man. I was going to take that man to the hotel or the back seat of a car in the parking lot and have an orgasm. That was a critical component, so I would need to choose my bed partner carefully. Not just any willing penis would do—he would have to have some skills. I couldn't believe such naughty thoughts were running through my head. Was I already drunk? In all likelihood, the experiment wouldn't work, and I would return to Macy's cabin before midnight to sleep alone in the laundry room.

I straightened my skirt, determined to give it my best shot.

"There's a guy." Macy grabbed my elbow, half whispering, half yelling over the music.

I looked where she was pointing. A man stood alone at the bar, a white T-shirt barely concealing washboard abs. The cut of his silhouette was so masculine, I wondered why he was single. Sandy hair spiked above chiseled cheekbones. Half an inch of stubble dusted his chin, and I had an overwhelming desire to rub my fingertips along it. I could imagine the soft sandpaper feel, the heat of skin against skin. This was definitely the guy.

Before I could stop her, Macy slid right up to him and asked him to buy us a drink. She smiled her brightest mother-of-the-bride smile and turned to me.

"This is my cousin Tammy," Macy said. "She's new in town."

"Hi, Tammy," the man said, catching on quickly. "What are you drinking?"

"I'll take a bottled beer," I said shyly.

"Not a wine drinker?" he guessed.

"Oh, I've been known to drink wine, and occasionally tequila shots, but my favorite is beer." I stepped up to the bar where Macy made room.

"Tequila?" he asked, intrigued.

"If it's a special night," I said.

He signaled the bartender. "Two shots of tequila."

The man behind the bar frowned and went back to serving another customer. Macy leaned over the counter to get his attention. "Three shots of tequila," she ordered.

The bartender came right over, smiling brightly. "Good evening, Macy. How are the kids?"

"They're just fine," she said. "This is my cousin Tammy. She's staying with us."

The bartender set out three shot glasses and filled them. "Should I run a tab?" he asked.

The guy I was flirting with put a twenty down on the bar and waved the man away. It was strange that the bartender didn't seem to want anything to do with this guy. I wondered if there was some history there. We each took our shots and threw them back, wincing at the immediate burn.

I laughed. "Something tells me you're not much for hard liquor."

He grinned. "Yeah, I'm a beer man myself."

"Well, I'd order a beer," I said, "but the bartender seems snooty."

"It's just a little misunderstanding," he said.

"Why don't you guys go grab a table. I'll get us some beers," Macy offered.

We looked at each other and shrugged in unison. It seemed that we were both on the prowl and each aware of the other's availability. We slid easily away from the bar and back to a booth in the corner. I chose the seat opposite him, my gaze locked onto his. I could barely see anyone else in the place; the depths of his blue eyes drew my attention like a magnet. There were some hard lessons learned there—he definitely hadn't had an easy life. But there was also kindness and a gentle quality that made me think he would be just as comfortable cuddling as he would be screwing.

I wasn't looking for anything more than a one-night stand, I told myself. Who cared if he was a teddy bear? All I needed was one frantic session in an impersonal hotel room to cast out the demons of Austin and ground me firmly in Singer's Ridge. It would be better if I could forget him when it was done, so I lowered my gaze and focused instead on his chest.

"So, what brings you to Singer's Ridge?" he asked.

"There's nothing for me in Austin anymore," I said.

"That's where you're from?"

I nodded.

"So, you're here for good?"

"I hope so," I said. "I'm gonna find a place and a job."

"And a husband?" he teased.

I blushed. "I'm looking for something a little more the other end of the spectrum. Like a good time."

Macy found us and placed three beer bottles on the table. She took one look at the chemistry between us and declared, "I think I see my friend Ava." She picked up her own bottle and disappeared into the crowd.

"Macy's your wingwoman?" the man guessed.

I didn't deny it. "You know my name. Can I know yours?"

"Wouldn't it make it more fun if I was just a stranger in a bar?"

"Okay," I said, playing along. "I could go up to the bartender and ask him for your name, but something tells me he would try to talk me out of going home with you."

"Mike," he said. "And you're right. He would most definitely try to talk you out of it."

"I don't want to make a mistake," I cautioned myself.

He picked a bottle and took a sip. "You don't strike me as the kind of girl who picks up guys in bars all the time."

"How do you know?" I challenged.

"Something about you." He shrugged. "You seem sweet."

"Well, you seem like you've done this before."

He shook his head. "Not recently."

"What did you do to piss the bartender off?"

"In a town this small, everyone gossips."

"Everyone gossips in the city too," I said.

"Not the same." He looked out the window, seeming to wish he were somewhere else.

"You're trying to leave this town," I guessed. "And I'm trying to escape by moving here."

"And we meet at the bar for one night of fun," he teased. "Like ships passing."

"Where would you go?"

"I could try Austin," he said. "Anywhere that everyone wasn't in my business would be nice."

"I think it's quaint," I said. "You know, the guy at the storage place was so nice, he even gave me a ride to Macy's house."

Macy returned to our table and slid in beside me. "How's it going?" she asked conversationally.

"Was that your friend?" I asked.

"Oh yeah." Macy checked her phone. "You always see someone you know in Singer's Ridge. You work at the lumberyard, right?" She pointed at Mike.

He nodded.

"How do you like it?" Macy kept him talking, oblivious to his discomfort.

I could see it in the way his eyes changed, from blue to grey, he didn't want to talk about himself or his place in the community. He was enchanted with me because I offered him something new, a taste of life outside this town. I wasn't sure why he was so eager to move on, but he seemed stifled by Macy's questions. His answer was curt and unrevealing.

"Fine. It was kind of you to take your cousin in. And to take her out to a bar to meet a man." He flashed a wicked grin at me.

"Oh," Macy gasped, her subterfuge revealed. "Was I that obvious?"

Mike didn't answer, just sat there looking at me as if I were an expensive sandwich he wanted to unwrap and devour. I blushed. I had so little experience being offered up on the market that I doubted my seduction skills. Not only did I have this guy on the hook, but he looked ready to jump into the boat. All I had to do was say yes, and I would be treated to a night of pleasure. I would be able to peel off that tight T-shirt he was wearing and run my hands along his muscular frame. I could undo the belt that held his pants in place and dip my fingers deep into the darkness there. I wondered if he would fill my palm, if he was already swollen. I felt heat between my thighs and knew that I was ready to hold up my end of the bargain. Now there was just this awkward social dance we had to do before the lovemaking could commence.

"Since I'm being so obvious," Macy continued when neither Mike nor I responded, "I was hoping we could find someone without kids to show Tammy around town."

"I think I can do that," Mike said, "but first there are a couple things I want to do."

I didn't have any trouble imagining what those things were. I wanted to do more than a couple of things, but I thought I could start with a kiss. His lips looked warm and inviting, capable of taking me places I had never been before. I was dying to get out of the bar and into his arms. I looked to Macy to see if she could continue the magic she had worked all night.

Macy didn't rescue me. Instead, Mike reached across the table and took my hand. "Do you want to get out of here?"

"Yes," I said. My entire body was wound up so tight, if I didn't have sex soon, I felt like I was going to die. He was the cause and the cure. I couldn't believe our luck at landing such a perfect specimen on my first visit to this little bar. I had never had such chemistry in Austin. Even with my ex-boyfriends, the chemistry was never this heated. Small-town magic truly was… magic. Mike's hand against my hand whispered intimate secrets, promising gentle but insistent foreplay. I squirmed in my seat as Macy got up to let us pass.

"I'm going home," my cousin said, giving me a quick hug. "It's almost midnight."

"Don't wait up," I said.

Macy gave me her best secret, not secret, winning smile. Mike and I didn't wait, leaving the bar hand in hand.

"This is me." He pointed to an older truck.

We climbed in, and for an achingly long five minutes, we drove out away from the main street, through fields to the commercial lumberyard.

"I thought you worked at the lumberyard," I said.

"I work here, and I live here," he said, killing the engine.

We parked in a driveway with two other cars, and when he helped me out of the cab, he motioned away from the main door to a set of stairs over the garage.

"Is this your parents' house?" I asked.

He was still holding my hand, leading me as if I were a fairy princess ascending to a ballroom. "Full disclosure, I've never brought a woman back here before. Yes, I live with my parents, but did I mention I'm getting out of here as soon as I can?"

"I'm not gonna judge you for being close to your parents." How could I? Every minute of every day, I wished mine were still alive.

We arrived at a little platform at the top of the stairs. He dropped my hand and fished in his pocket for keys. I couldn't help but notice that there was something a lot larger than keys in his pants. He opened the door and bowed, like a proper gentleman. I curtseyed, giggling. As soon as we stepped through the door, the whole atmosphere changed.

Gone was the friendly conversationalist, and in its place was a ravenous wolf. Mike scooped me up without giving me a chance to set down my purse. He pivoted and set me down on a desk, on top of a folded computer. I had a momentary urge to push the thing out from under me. I was too polite to destroy his laptop in an act of compulsive lovemaking, but he didn't seem to care.

He locked his lips onto mine, gently nursing the bad girl in me to life. I closed my eyes as I felt rough palms press against my cheeks. He tasted like cheap beer and tequila and smelled like cologne. It was all man, assaulting my senses and making me want more. I licked softly at first, then more insistently as he pressed me back into the wall. It was all so naughty and all felt so wrong, but I was loving every second of it.

It was as if we were both drowning, gasping for air, and the only lifeline was our kiss. All thoughts of Austin, my parents, and my ex-boyfriend fled from my mind. I refused to let my misery take over. There was only this moment, this apartment, and this man. I struggled to regain some control, to do to him what he was doing to me. I grabbed a fistful of his hair with one hand, running the other down his chest to the treasure trove waiting below his belt.

He didn't stop me, and he didn't break the kiss. Instead, he slid one hand under my ass and pulled my hips forward. My hand was trapped between us, and I couldn't reach what it was I wanted to touch. I slipped it out and around to stroke his shoulders above the shirt, hating all the fabric between us.

He finally pulled away, his eyes on fire with lust. He picked up one of my feet, tilting my balance and forcing me to sit back atop the desk. He slid my shoe off with all the fanfare of a Cinderella prince. I laughed, but the laugh became a moan when he touched his lips to my knee and began kissing up my thigh. He was getting closer and closer to the center of my being, inch by inch lighting a fuse that raced towards detonation. When he had come close enough to see my underwear, he stopped, picked up the next leg, and began his journey again.

I had thought this would be a quick one-and-done, a frantic mating in the back seat. Here he was taking his time, playing with me as if I were a piano and he a musician. He came within kissing distance of my core and stopped again, straightening to plant one single kiss on my lips. I didn't know how to react. My breath was heavy.

He didn't linger. In one practiced motion, he hooked two fingers under the hem of my dress and lifted it over my head. Suddenly, I felt released. I was not merely the instrument but also a player. I grabbed at his shirt, pulling it off him and throwing it away. His chest was as magnificent as I had thought it would be, solid as a wall and smooth as his shoulders. I ran my hands down the length of it, entranced.

He took the opportunity to relieve me of my bra without fumbling or laughing. I could tell he had done this before by how skillfully it went off. Now we were both naked from the waist up, standing just inches away, admiring the view. He had an eyeful of my breasts, and I gorged myself on the trail of soft curls that began at his navel and led all the way down.

I reached for his belt, but he stopped me. Reaching all the way around, he cupped my backside and ground me against his crotch. My womanhood could feel his erection sitting right where I needed it to be. He lifted me from the desk, pivoted, and then threw me down. All at once, I was on his bed, my legs splayed wide, wearing only panties. Being overwhelmed by anticipation and desire, I felt the pit in my stomach, riddled with anxiety.

I watched as he slowly undid his belt, standing above me, looking down. He was all power and masculinity, ready to bare himself for my pleasure. I drank in his movements with greedy eyes as he slid the jeans off and pulled his underwear down. His cock sprang to attention, suddenly freed from its constraints. It was larger than it had looked before, stiff and dark in anticipation of my consent.

I reached down to remove the last vestige of fabric between us, but he firmly pushed my hands away. Instead, he touched my hips, his fingers burning through my skin. With the concentration of an artist painting a masterpiece, he drew the cloth down my legs, finally sliding it free and discarding it. I breathed a sigh of relief. Every second that stood between me and my release irritated me. To see him standing naked before me, the view was magical. Climbing down to lie above me, he moved slowly, as if to savor every instance. I wanted him inside me so badly it hurt.

He ignored my unspoken request, turning his attention to one of my throbbing nipples. He sucked it into his mouth, on his hands and knees above me. I arched up into him, the sensation in my chest almost a match for the desire in my loins. I closed my eyes, unable to bear it anymore. He was too tender—he made me feel like I was the only woman in the world.

I felt one hand grasp my hip, sliding across acres of skin to sink between my legs and touch the burning ember that lay there. I opened up to him, felt his fingers part my folds and sink down to the pleasure button. It felt so good that I forgot everything, even the dull pounding of need. The moment had arrived. I let it carry me away on an ocean of bliss. He pushed his finger inside me, and I almost erupted around him. Moving in and out, he lightly feathered my clit at the same time. When my eyes flew open under the pressure, I found him grinning wickedly, like a devil who knew he was driving me insane.

"Mike," I gasped, pleased with myself for finding the right name in the wreck he was making of my mind.

He obeyed my fervent command, sliding his finger free and positioning his knees between my knees. He reached down to cup himself, sliding the hand slick with my moisture along his shaft to lubricated himself. I held my breath. It was all so hot that I thought I would faint with pleasure. He lowered himself with the patience of a predator, guiding his tool towards my opening. I gasped when I felt him push against me, the head so round it caressed every surface simultaneously. He dove in slowly, filling me up, sending me soaring through the ceiling and out into the night sky.

I clenched around him, and in doing so, I felt the weight of his hips as he thrust into me, the heat of his chest lingering on my chest. He rocked forward and kissed me, drew back and let me go, shoved in and brushed his lips to mine in a dizzying ritual. My hands floated down his back, finding their home on his rear end as he worked both of us towards ecstasy. I felt like I was drifting down a river towards a beautiful waterfall, the current entering every crevasse that I had.

He maintained his composure right up until the end, his movements deliberate and calculated to bring me joy. Just seconds before we plummeted off the cliff, he gave up, and the rhythm changed. He thrust hard, splitting me open, hitting that spot deep inside that I kept hidden from everyone. I cried out, digging in my nails, dragging him back toward me every time he slipped away. His face pinched up, and his beautiful eyes closed. I watched him struggle to the point of no return, and just when I thought I was the impenetrable one, his cock thrust again and I went over the top.

I felt a scream rip through my throat, every muscle tensing up at once. He buried himself deep inside me, a shudder racing from his hips to his chest. We ground our bodies together until the riptide passed, until the waves receded, and we were left with quiet aftershocks. Feeling satisfied, I allowed him to slip free, coming around beside me to lie down on the mattress. He pulled me up into his arms, and I let him, my entire form boneless and spent. Tiny alarm bells flashed in the back of my mind, warning me that this was just supposed to be a one-night stand. Don't get too attached to him, my inner diva said. Don't like this too much. But I was beyond the ability to pack up my things and ask for a ride home. What was the harm in enjoying one night in the afterglow of lovemaking? In the arms of a man I had just met, I fell asleep feeling whole and new for the first time in years.