Chapter 3

3

CASSIE

“ I s this your personal truck or your work truck?” I asked as we took the on-ramp to the interstate.

“A little bit of both,” the hottie, who’d introduced himself as Denver, said. “My boss has us use our personal vehicles. He reimburses us for our mileage at a rate high enough to cover maintenance and stuff like that.”

“So you like living here?” I asked.

I wasn’t sure why I’d even asked that question. My friends, family, and the job I loved were all in Chattanooga. I couldn’t see myself ever moving away. But maybe I could convince a guy like this to move for me.

And that was why it was ridiculous. I was just supposed to sleep with whatever guy I met here. Not fall in love, marry, and live happily ever after with him. That was absurd.

That was my problem. I had a tough time separating love and sex. It’s why I’d never had it. I’d been determined to wait until marriage, but the boyfriend I’d had from eighth grade through senior year slept with a girl his first week at college. He called to dump me immediately after, while confessing the whole thing.

That had been five years ago, and I still hadn’t recovered. But I was ready to take charge of my life. To be the type of woman who had sex for pleasure, not love.

I could have fun. I had friends. I had a full life. And it was a life that a man would only complicate.

“It’s all right,” he said. “When I got out of the military, I wanted to be somewhere quiet. I could never live in a big city. I grew up in a small town. One of my buddies told me about this place, and here I am. Hungry?”

The word came at the end of that long statement. I was still thinking through his words, so it took me a second to process the question.

I started to say no, I was fine, but then I shifted my attention to my stomach. I wasn’t normally a breakfast person, but we’d hit the road at the crack of dawn to get here, which meant I’d been running on an iced coffee and bottled water for a good couple of hours.

“I actually am,” I said. “Know of any good breakfast places?”

As it turned out, the best breakfast place was near the courthouse, which had suffered tornado damage. The diner seemed perfectly fine at first glance, but as we approached the front door, I noticed a pile of debris on the ground next to the restaurant. Some downed limbs and debris didn’t get in the way of the Good Times Diner serving up breakfast for the masses, though.

I waited for people to call out to Denver as we entered. Wasn’t that normal in a small town? But that didn’t happen. The server who seated us was friendly, but it was clear we were both strangers to her. After she took our order and left us sitting alone, I remembered we were actually strangers to each other, and I wanted to change that.

“So are you married?” I asked, doing my best to make it sound like I was just making conversation.

“Nope.”

“Girlfriend? Kids? Pets? Anything?”

He continued to shake his head, and that brought a frown to my face. The guy was single. That was good news. But to not even have pets…

“I moved up here to be alone,” Denver said. “I don’t want the responsibility of a dog.”

Why did I have the feeling the words “or a wife” could be tacked onto the end of that? Maybe he didn’t want to be rude. Whatever the case, any hope I had that this might become more than a one-night stand flew out the window at that very second.

That was for the best, right? I shouldn’t feel disappointed. I was here to lose my virginity to the hottest man I could find, then go back to my old life as an experienced woman of the world.

Doing that would prove that I wasn’t some boring prude. In fact, my ex had missed out on the best thing he’d ever had…and all because he couldn’t keep it in his pants.

“So what’s your story?” he asked.

The question pulled me out of my thoughts. I hesitated while the server set down our drinks—coffee and orange juice for him, water for me.

“I’m a pharmaceutical sales rep in Chattanooga,” I said once we were alone again. “I just started last year, but I got lucky and landed one of the hottest drugs right now. All the medical offices want it, so I stay pretty busy.”

And I made good money, but I didn’t add that part. Talking about money wasn’t very classy. Or so my mom had taught me.

“Husband?” he asked. “Boyfriend? Kids? Dog?”

He rapid-fired the questions just as I had. Only I wasn’t shaking my head at any of them. Instead, I took in that intense stare of his. It made me feel all tingly inside.

No one had ever looked at me like that. Not even my ex-boyfriend. But maybe that was the difference between a boy and a man. Denver was all man. He was probably in his mid-thirties, and I was in my early twenties. My ex and I had been teenagers when we dated. Basically, we were kids.

“None of the above,” I said. “I suck at the whole dating thing, so I’m focusing on my career for now.”

As soon as the words were out of my mouth, I regretted them. I didn’t want him to think I wasn’t open to anything romantic. I was here to lose my virginity, after all.

“I’ve spent most of my dating life looking for a fairy tale.” I laughed. “Now I just want fun.”

Did that make me sound slutty? Yeah, I was right the first time. I sucked at this dating thing.

“What do you mean by good time?” He stared me down. “Like partying?”

I shook my head. “Not at all. I don’t even like to drink. My idea of a good time is curling up on the couch with a book or staying home and watching a good movie.”

“I can relate. I’m invited out for beers all the time with the guys. I’ll go, but I’m always the one cutting out early after barely making it through half a mug. So you mean sex?”

That question, like his hunger one in the truck, caught me by surprise. He seemed to be the king of throwing in a stunning statement at the end of whatever he was saying.

But now he had me looking around, making sure no one was listening. The place was packed, but everyone was too caught up in their own conversations to pay attention to what was happening over here.

“It makes sense,” he said.

“Yes,” I said. “Men do it all the time. Why can’t women?”

When my gaze landed on him, I saw a frown line between his eyes. He was confused.

“Men do what?”

“Have sex just for the pleasure of it.”

“Women do that too,” he said. “What decade are you living in?”

The question came across as gruff, leading me to sit back, moving away from him slightly. I carefully thought through my next words. I didn’t want to get defensive.

“I’m aware,” I finally said, crossing my arms over my chest. “I’m just saying that the general perception is that women are supposed to be in it for love, while men are in it for sex.”

He was eyeing me closely, the frown line now gone. I felt scrutinized. It was like he was seeing me in an all-new light. Or maybe he was finally trying to figure out exactly what light I existed in.

“So you came to town looking for a good time?” he asked.

At that question, I gasped. Yes, my friends and I had been drawn to town by the Cyclone Stud, but that didn’t mean we were horn dogs just looking for a quick lay. Hell no. All four of us were moved by what we’d seen in that video.

“We came to town to help with tornado recovery,” I said.

“We?”

Oh, shit. I hadn’t mentioned I’d come with friends, had I? But so what if I wasn’t traveling alone? There was nothing wrong with a group of friends joining together to help out after a natural disaster, was there?

“My three best friends,” I said. “We were in college together.”

A sorority, to be more specific. We’d become good friends and ditched the sorority, moving into an apartment sophomore year.

I didn’t mention any of that, though. Something told me he’d stereotype me if he heard I was in a sorority. And like it or not, I cared what this guy thought.

“So the Cyclone Stud stuff didn’t draw you here?” He laughed. “That would make you the only woman who showed up today not looking for a man.”

“You asked if I was married and I answered,” I said. “Suddenly, I’m being accused of coming to town to find the man of my dreams.”

A smile spread over his face. An actual smile. It was the first one I’d seen from him. The smile softened his features as that stare of his lowered to my mouth. Was he thinking about kissing me?

“Who said anything about the man of your dreams?” he asked. “It’s supposed to be all about sex, right?”

What conversation were we even having? I couldn’t sort it out. All I could think about was the fact that suddenly he fit my dream guy. Not just as the guy who’d been standing in the kitchen earlier, wearing the very type of T-shirt with stretched-out sleeves that had occupied my fantasy.

No, this was the guy with the grumpy exterior who had a heart of gold deep down. And that side of himself was only shown to the woman he loved.

But that was impossible. I wasn’t the woman he loved. If anything, he was thinking about how to get me into bed, which should make me want to celebrate. It was exactly why I was here, after all. No, I wanted him to be thinking beyond that crap.

He was right about me. I’d come to town to find the man of my dreams. Or maybe it was that I’d come to town for one thing and I met the man of my dreams in the process.

“I’m confused,” I said.

His smile lessened a little, but his features remained softened. He tilted his head slightly. He had to pause as the server returned with our breakfast. A full plate of eggs, bacon, hash browns, and biscuits for him and a Belgian waffle with strawberry topping for me. As I pulled my fork out of the paper sleeve it rested in, I found myself hoping he wouldn’t pick up the conversation where it had left off.

“Confused about what?” he asked.

So much for that hope. I took a deep breath and tried to remember exactly why I’d been confused. I couldn’t tell him the truth, so I blurted it out.

“You seem to think most of the women who showed up today are looking for…love?” I asked. “In a disaster zone?

He laughed and grabbed the ketchup bottle, squirting a generous helping on top of his hash browns. Then he exchanged that for the salt shaker and began seasoning his entire plate of food.

“Everyone’s been asking for Jax,” he said. “Who the hell knows where the guy even is? He’s probably hiding out in his cabin. And then there’s the fact that some of these women showed up looking like they were heading out for a night on the town, not to dig through debris and board up windows and…”

“Pick up tarps,” I said with a smile.

He paused, fork poised above his plate. “And pick up tarps.”

Our eyes met and held, and in that moment, I had a weird thought. What if I did something crazy and just packed up and moved to the mountains? There were worse places to live. A guy like this might be worth making a major life change.

I shoved that thought aside and focused on slicing off a small piece of waffle to slide into my mouth. Only after I did that did I realize this was date behavior. I was eating like I was trying to impress the man in front of me—or, at the very least, not repulse him. No matter what I did, I couldn’t get away from this crush that was developing.

I’d come to town looking for the Cyclone Stud, but I found something else much more interesting.