Chapter 1

ONE

Shannon

I took a long pull from my Yuengling Lager bottle before setting it back down on the bar top. My life was a mess. I was doing my best to keep a low profile and this hotel was just the first of many that I would be staying in over the next few weeks until I got my shit together.

I was trying not to look like the tourist I was, but I wasn't helping my cause when I chose the beer that represented my home state. What can I say? I was a Yuengling girl born and raised. Sam Adams just didn't do it for me. It didn't matter how many flavors they came up with, I couldn't find one that hit the same way my first love did.

Did that make me a beer snob?

Probably, but a girl had to have her vices. Mine wasn't fancy margaritas or some prim and proper martinis. Nope, I much preferred beer. Maybe the occasional bourbon or whiskey but that was as far as my taste buds went in the liquor department.

My father used to joke that he was raising a son, not a daughter, the way I could toss them back and hold my own against the boys in my small hometown. He wasn't wrong. That’s what happens when a girl doesn’t have a mother or any other siblings to look up to.

All I had growing up was my father and his friends. Oh, and the guys from the shop. Growing up inside a mechanic shop might've had something to do with it as well.

I tipped my almost empty bottle of beer to the bartender and silently asked for another. I could see the judgment in his eyes, but he didn't say anything as he slid a new one my way.

"Pretty sure that's sacrilege in this town," said a voice behind me.

I tried to hide my annoyance at being interrupted.

Interrupted from what?

My own thoughts. It sure as hell wasn't the lousy TV. It was a Friday night in October, so of course there wasn't a football game on, and everything else paled in comparison.

I wasn't only a beer snob, I was a sports snob as well. It was fall, there was only one sport that was important: football, and any day that didn't have a game being played was a lousy day in my opinion.

I sounded like a real winner in the girl department, didn't I?

"Not interested," I finally responded after taking another swig of my beer.

When I look back on this night in the future, this was probably when I should've kept my eyes glued on the crappy TV. But instead, I chose to give the unnamed man my attention, even if for just the briefest of seconds. That was all it took.

One look.

Hello, Mr. Tall, Dark, and Handsome with the most radiant green eyes I had ever seen.

I mean seriously, they practically glowed in the dimly lit bar. I wasn't sure if I could look away from them even if I wanted to. Pair that with dark wavy locks, longer on the top but tight enough on the sides that I could scrape my fingers through it. The five o’clock shadow I was sure would feel good along my most sensitive parts and the slightly crooked nose that screamed he was a man not afraid to fight for those he cared about. The whole package put together was my kryptonite, but it was his voice that put him over the top. It was the perfect baritone and I could sit here and listen to it all night long.

"Sorry, I wasn't trying to hit on you. That's what my brother tells me every time I visit him and don't order a Sam Adams."

Well, there went that thought. It was a shame. I might not have had time for it, but his words stung. No girl liked to think they were that unattractive.

"I gathered as much when the bartender sneered at me. The sacrilege part, not the hitting-on-me part," I quickly clarified.

"I'm not saying I wouldn't hit on you. I mean, you're gorgeous and completely my type, but that wasn't why I spoke up. It's more of an automatic response any time I see someone drinking anything other than Boston's own," the handsome man babbled. "And now I'm rambling. Don't mind me." He waved his hands as if he could physically brush away the words.

It was good to know he didn't find me repulsing. If this was any other time in my life, I wouldn't mind a roll in the sheets with a body like that. I bet he knew how to give a girl a real orgasm, rather than us having to fake one all the time just to appease a poor man's ego.

"The name's Shannon," I told him before I could think better of it.

"Jack."

We clinked our bottles together and each took a sip. The silence that fell between us wasn't as awkward as I expected, but I still felt the need to fill it.

"So, visiting your brother, right? I believe that's what you said as you were trying to extract the foot from your mouth."

Jack laughed, and damn, it was a good one. So hearty it made my stomach flip-flop. It was the kind of sound I wanted to hear close to my ear so I could feel it throughout my entire body.

"I was definitely trying to remove the foot from my mouth. Seems that's all I've done since meeting you. But to answer your question, yes, I'm visiting my brother. He moved here a few years ago to work for a security company. I try to visit him a few times a year if I can get the time away."

"And what exactly do you do, Jack?"

I didn't know why I was entertaining the conversation. I came down to the bar with the sole purpose of having a few drinks, but my father always said it was never okay to drink alone. A bar had people, so that had to count for something. Even if the thought of people milling around bothered me, I always listened to my father's advice. It was the only thing I had left of him.

"I'm an electrician. How about you?"

I took another sip of my beer as I figured out how I wanted to answer. I probably should've considered that before I started this line of conversation.

"I'm … in between jobs at the moment. I decided to take some time and travel before I make my next decision."

Not a total lie. I was traveling. Just not for the reason I gave, or because I necessarily wanted to.

"What made you decide on Boston?" Jack took his own sip of beer and I was ashamed to admit how attractive it was to watch his Adam's apple bob from the motion. Who knew watching a man drink could make my panties wet?

"A dart on a map."

Jack almost spit his beer all over the bar. He looked at me like he was expecting me to tell him I was joking.

"Wait, you're serious?"

"As a heart attack. Put a map of the United States up on a dartboard and let one fly. Boston was where it landed."

"No shit?" Jack signaled for the bartender to bring us another round before he turned back to me. "I thought people only did stuff like that in the movies."

I wish my life was a movie. At least then I could step off the set and no longer have to deal with the bullshit that seemed to follow me around. My father always said that if there was trouble in the neighborhood, it was sure to find me. Which reminded me …

"You don't happen to be in some kind of trouble by chance?"

Jack looked around confused. "Ah, no?"

"That doesn't sound very convincing, Jack."

I should've ignored my father's advice and stayed up in my room. Two hours in a new town and already I was making poor decisions.

"That was a strange question, Shannon. " My name rolled off his tongue like an Olympian gymnast who stuck a perfect landing. So damn smooth that I wondered what it would sound like against my pussy.

I pushed the thought away immediately. I was staying away from men. Detoxing from them, if you will. It didn't matter that my hoo-hoo was begging for some action. The damn hussy needed to sit back and shut the hell up. She was the reason I was on the run to begin with.

"I have a tendency to attract trouble. I figured it was best to find out if that's where this night was headed right out of the gate."

Jack studied me for what felt like ten minutes, but in reality, was probably closer to ten seconds before he saluted me with his beer bottle. "I like your honesty. It's refreshing, and to answer your question, no I'm not in any kind of trouble. My brother would kick my ass, and considering he's seven years older than me, and has about an extra fifty pounds and three inches on me, I have a tendency not to piss him off."

"What did you say your brother did for a living?"

I was horrible at remembering what people said. Ask me some useless knowledge I read in a book from eighth grade, no problem. Ask me a tiny detail someone mentioned in a conversation five minutes ago, forget it. Whatever the person said was long gone. Dropped into an endless black pit, never to be seen again.

"He works for a security company. Transferred there after he got out of the Navy."

"Ahhh, a sailor." I winked, and it was funny to watch the way Jack's jaw flexed.

"Is that the kind of guy you're interested in?"

Jealous Jack was fun, even if he had no reason to be. Swearing off men, remember? That included nameless, faceless older brothers.

I decided to put him out of his misery. "Nah. I much prefer my men to be blue collar, such as yourself."

Jack was quick to change the subject. Something I found very interesting. "So you threw a dart and landed here. Does that mean you'll be leaving again soon?"

I thought about the question. I didn’t exactly have a plan when I packed a suitcase and left my apartment behind, other than to get away from my crazy ex. We had some communication issues. One mainly being that he didn't understand the ex part in our relationship.

"I'll stay for the weekend. After that, I'm not so sure what my plan is."

I was fortunate that my father's unexpected death left me with a nice insurance policy. I would've much preferred my father to be alive and sitting with me, but the next best thing was having a way for him to help me, even from the grave. I could jump around from city to city for a few weeks before I would even need to think about finding a job.

"Maybe you're the one in trouble and I need to stay away."

Jack winked to let me know he was kidding, but if he only knew the truth.

I was in trouble. I was stupid enough to date someone I should’ve stayed far, far away from. But I didn’t. And I sure as hell haven't found a way out of it that didn't put me on the run.

"Maybe you're right," I whispered right before I took another sip of beer. I needed to slow down. The last thing I wanted was to be drunk with my ex out looking for me. Besides, I wasn't a fan of hangovers and my friends—if one could call the guys from the shop that—liked to joke that I was a lightweight. They weren't wrong. Less than a handful of beers and I would need Jack here to escort me to my room.

It was clear I’d already had one too many when Jack asked, "What do you say we get out of here and find someplace quieter?"

My answer should've been no. I should've told him that I was going to go back to my room. Alone. And sleep off the buzz that I had.

But of course that wasn’t what I did.

"I say, lead the way."

I dropped some cash on the bar, but Jack was having none of it. He scooped the bills up and stuffed them back into the front pocket of my jeans before pulling out enough of his own to cover both of our tabs, plus leave the bartender a nice fat tip. Then he grabbed my hand and maneuvered us through the crowd, effectively sidestepping several drunk patrons, before walking across the lobby to the bank of elevators.

I forced myself to shut my brain off and just enjoy the moment. It was only one night. What could possibly go wrong?