2. Hugo Gomez

Hugo Gomez

My knee bounced while I looked around the fair, my eyes focused on the reserved spot that was still sitting empty. A spot I shouldn’t care about. The holiday market was almost over and done with. Finally. My arms crossed in front of me as different vendors started to trickle in.

I’d never thought about what working a holiday craft fair would be like. If I was honest, the only reason I knew they even existed was because my little sister mentioned she had started to work them to help boost her bee business.

Bees. I rubbed the back of my neck.

My sister and her bees.

My lips twitched at Karol’s crazy ideas. But maybe they weren’t as crazy as I thought, considering I had to head to her place every single night after working this thing to replenish stock. Not that I worked for her. Nope. I was semi-retired. I’d served my time in the Marines and now worked on bikes and cars when the mood moved me.

My hands itched to work on an engine in my garage after being around all these people the last week. Especially a little redhead with way too much energy and a smile I not only felt in my dick but all through me.

A little red-headed vixen I would have never in my life met had it not been for the fact that Karo had broken her arm in two places and begrudgingly needed someone’s help with her farm and covering the spot she had already paid for at this damn fair. Our brother Vic had jumped at the opportunity to work on the farm, taking care of the bees and helping her out with making candles, balms, and other shit.

I had a feeling my ex-Navy Seal brother found it peaceful to help Kari on her small farm. He also found Karol’s pretty, best friend and business partner intriguing, judging by the way I caught him look at her when I went over to pick up shit to replenish her stock.

One more week, I thought to myself. One more week, and I would be done and over with all this shit. I could go back up to my cabin in Sugarloaf and tinker around in my garage. Maybe I would start looking into getting a new project? Some junker to restore and bring back to life.

One more week.

My eyes skirted back to the table. They widened at the sight of her. My hands clenched at my sides. Jesus, she was pretty. That was always the first thought that popped into my head. Pretty didn’t even cover it. Piper Purcell and her bright red curls and soft, curvy body were fucking breathtaking.

The thought of more week suddenly made my gut twist up in knots. What will happen after that? It wasn’t like she liked me enough to see me again.

And whose fault is that, you big idiot? a voice in my head mumbled. Mine. One hundred percent mine.

But I had a plan.

I walked, but being my size, it sounded like I stomped over to her table that sat right in front of mine. But not before picking up the extra-large, sugary, over-caffeinated drink I had bought for her.

“Here.” I handed it to her the moment I stood in front of her and tried not to wince at the roughness in my voice. I kept my distance, making sure I wasn’t too close to touch her yet not too far, because fuck me, she made my brain fritz out.

“Here?” she repeated, looking at the lidded cup like it was filled with snakes. “What’s that?” She dropped her gorgeous blue eyes down to the cup again and blinked.

“It’s that sugary shit you’ve been drinking every day,” I mumbled, all while making sure not to show an ounce of emotion. Usually, it wasn’t hard for me. Any one of my four siblings would tell you I was a man of few words. But I felt different around her. Being in her space made me want to tell her everything and then have her tell me everything back.

“Gosh, you’re a sweet talker.” She grinned. Her eyes rose, and she batted pretty, long darker red lashes at me before touching her hand to the center of her chest. “Thank you, but I’m okay,” she denied the drink and turned around.

Her attention focused on that bright blue wagon she lugged in every day. I frowned.

“What?” Did she really turn down the drink I bought her? I mean, I knew I hadn’t made the best first impression. Or second or third, that little voice in my head whispered.

But after I helped her pack up her truck last night, I assumed I had made some kind of leeway. Leeway I wanted for god only what damn reason, I wasn’t sure yet. There was a mountain of reasons I should keep my distance. The woman was way to fucking young for me. I wasn’t positive how old she was, but I had a feeling either way, I was old enough to be her father. I winced at the thought, and just like I had noticed, Piper hardly missed a thing. With her attention back on me, probably because I hadn’t walked away when she dismissed me, she tilted her head, making those curls of hers bounce. Her pretty, pink lips pursed. Almost like she didn’t know what to make of me.

“Why won’t you take it?” I asked roughly.

“Why won’t––“ she started to say and stepped back. “I mean, how do I know you didn’t do something to it?” she asked.

“Do something to it?” I repeated, slightly outraged that she would even think something like that. “Has someone ever done that to you?” I strained, hardly believing I was keeping my hands to myself.

“No. But then again, I don’t take drinks from strangers and people who obviously don’t like me.”

Don’t like her? She thinks I don’t like her. Shit. I scratched the back of my neck.

I liked her, and that was the problem.

I liked her too much.

Fuck. I stared at her. Those pretty, blue eyes that had started to haunt my dreams twinkled at me like she was waiting for me to say something. Anything. I cleared my throat.

“I don’t not like you,” I said out loud, my voice scratchier with every syllable.

I wasn’t used to having to explain myself. I also wasn’t used to having to figure out how to get a woman into bed. That’s what this was, right? I just wanted a hookup. Scratch an itch and work her out of my system. Liar, that truth-telling little voice chirped. You want more than a night, and you know it. I had a feeling you couldn’t fuck a woman like Piper Purcell out of your system. I had a feeling touching her, kissing her, would do the opposite. A woman like her would find a way to get under your skin and stay there.

“You don’t not like me.” Her lips twitched before she broke out into a fit of giggles.

I forced my knees from buckling. I’d seen a lot in my life. Beautiful places in the world many only saw on a screen or in books. I’d seen terrible brain-numbing shit. The ugliest of the ugly. But watching her laugh? The genuine way she did it without reservation or worry, the almost delicate bell sound it made? Fuck, it went straight to my dick.

No. I didn’t want one night, and that was my fucking problem. Shit! For the first time in my forty-two years, I wanted so much more. I was man enough to admit it scared the hell out of me. The smile faded from her face and concern laced her gaze.

“Hugo?” When she said my name, the sound of it shot right through me and settled in my heart.

Shit. How the hell was this possible? I’d fallen for the spunky, curvy ball of energy, and I didn’t even know her. Hell no. This was not what I signed up for when I told Kari I would help her out. I’d call my sister tonight and tell her I needed Vic to trade me spots before getting on my Harley and going on a really fucking long ride.

“Hugo?” she said my name again, and I swallowed hard. “I was just kidding––“ She reached out touch me, but I flinched, making her eyes widen. I sat the drink on her table with a death glare and marched my ass back to my booth.

She could drink it or not. I didn’t care.

Liar.