by Penny Wylder
My heart skips in my chest. “What makes you think I’m so invaluable?” I ask, unable to help myself, shaking my head a little at the insinuation.
“Just watching you today.” He gestures at the room around us. “I’ve seen you pick up twice as many tables as your coworkers, and run errands for them on top of your own orders.”
My cheeks flush. “You’ve been watching me.” It’s not a question.
He bows his head. “Guilty.” He nods toward the book on the table. “What can I say? Sometimes people watching entertains me more than reading. Especially when someone catches my eye.”
My breath hitches. He’s flirting with me. Definitely. And I’ve got to admit, I haven’t seen a guy as smoking hot as him come through this town in… well, possibly ever. Every man of dateable age in the area, I’m either related to, know far too much about to ever want to hit on, or have dated in the past. It’s never exactly gone well.
Hot out of towner is proving too difficult to resist. Even if a little voice in the back of my head keeps warning me to get back to the floor. “So, just guessing from the suit, are you in town for Amy’s wedding?” I ask, tracing circles from the sweat off his glass of Coca Cola on the tabletop between us.
He arches an eyebrow. “Thankfully, no. Judging by the clientele today, I’m not sure that would be my scene,” he says, which earns a small smile from me. “I’m here on business actually,” he adds. “My company runs a charity on the side to fund small local farmers in need of subsidies. But we like to visit the farms before we hand out the money, to ensure they’re legitimate.”
“Do you get a lot of illegitimate farmers gaming the system?” I ask, arching an eyebrow.
He laughs softly. “You’d be surprised how many desperate people are willing to try just about anything to game the system.” He leans forward, confidential. “We had one so-called farmer in Wyoming apply. When I visited the facility, all I found was a heap of fallow fields filled with weeds and a single barn where he was growing marijuana.”
I burst into laughter. “So, not exactly the kind of farm your company funds, then?”
“Not quite.” We share smirks. He shrugs. “But my work takes me to other more interesting places. It’s nice sometimes to escape the city, visit quieter towns.” His gaze jumps around the bar again. “Although, not all small towns are quieter than the city, I must admit.”
My cheeks flush, mostly from embarrassment for my town this time. “We aren’t always this bad,” I say. “Most of the crowd is in town for that wedding I mentioned earlier.” My expression shifts to a grimace. “Although, I gotta admit, at least this is more entertaining than night after night of a totally deserted restaurant, or the same regulars who come to drown their sorrows at Monday afternoon Happy Hour. Trust me, that is a depressing scene.”
Xander laughs. “I can imagine.”
“I doubt you can,” I counter. Then I sigh. “I’d kill for the chance to travel like you do. Or even to experience big city life for a while. Small towns can get so suffocating.”
“The city’s not all it’s cracked up to be,” he promises. Then his eyes light up, as if an idea has just come to him. “What are you doing later tonight? I can’t help you travel too far, but we could go for a drive. Maybe it will help inject a little country charm into my life. Or at least get you out of your small-town doldrums for a minute.” He leans forward across the table, and I can’t help it. My body moves almost without my deciding on it, leaning in toward him in response. His eyes fix on me, and I can feel the look he’s giving me burn all the way through to my heart, as if he’s seeing straight through my defenses to the nervous, heart racing core of me. “Besides,” he says, his smile widening. “I like you. And I think you like me, too.”
My cheeks turn even brighter red, if possible, even though they probably already resemble a stop sign. But already my mind leaps to a few places I could suggest we drive. Places I haven’t visited in months. Not with how hectic my schedule has been lately. “Yeah,” I manage, before I clear my throat to get the tightness out of it. “Yes. I would love that.”
“Good.” He winks, and leans back in his seat. So do I, fighting the disappointment that crests inside me. “What time does your shift end?”
“Midnight,” I respond with a grimace, expecting him to turn me down. But he just nods, not even thrown at all by the late hour.
“Perfect. I’ll pick you up then.”
I laugh, and slide to my feet. “Alright. It’s a date.”
2
Melanie
I can’t remember the last time I went on a real date. Then again, I’m not entirely sure that agreeing to go for a drive in the middle of the night with a hot out of towner after working a double shift counts as a date. Am I crazy? Is this a bad idea?
I text Devan and tell her sorry, I’m not going to be able to bring home soup after all. From the bathroom during my shift break, I give her a quick update of the night’s proceedings.
Does he give off serial killer vibes? is her first response.
I can’t help but burst out laughing. No, but I mean… a successful serial killer probably wouldn’t give off enough vibes for anyone to tell, right?
Do you think I’m nuts for agreeing to go out with him?
I linger at the sink, washing and rewashing my hands until Devan sends a response. Only because you’re going to be beat after a double shift, she finally answers. Just text me where you’re planning to head, and let me know when you make it home safe, that’s all I ask.
Of course, I answer, smiling to myself. And honestly? As tired as I feel… I think adrenaline is waking me up enough for this date.
It’s true. Ever since my interaction with Xander earlier, my entire night seems to have turned around. I don’t even mind when three tables in a row under-tip me, or when yet another drunk guy spills his beer all over the floor, making me need to break out the mop once again.
Maybe it’s just because I have something I’m actually looking forward to, for the first time in longer than I can remember.
In that case, go get some, girl, Devan texts. And if he murders you, I’ll hunt him down and murder his ass right back.
I snort under my breath as I pocket the phone and sweep back out of the bathroom for the tail end of my shift. Luckily, it seems the wedding crowd tapers off in the late evening, probably thanks to the fact that they’ll all need to wake up pretty early for tomorrow’s events. By the time we’re nearing closing, the place is practically empty.
Bob excuses me a full half an hour early, which I chalk up to the extra cash he pocketed from Xander earlier. Xander’s right—he guessed the way to Bob’s good favor pretty much immediately. Then again, Bob’s not exactly a complicated man.
I wash my face in the back room and change into my regular clothes, wishing I’d brought something a little cuter today. I’m just in jeans and a tight-fitting tank top, with a sweater to toss over it for the evenings, which tend to get chilly this time of year, this far outside of the city. But when I add the lipstick I always keep in my bag and a touch of mascara, I don’t look too bad, honestly.
At least all this hard work keeps my arms and my ass in shape.
When I head out front of the bar, despite it still being 25 minutes until midnight, I spot Xander already there, parked in a Mercedes that looks fancier than anything I’ve ever driven in before, reading by the light of his interior car light.
I approach and tap on the window lightly, so as not to startle him. He folds the book away and opens his door, stepping out to drink me in with those dark eyes, even darker out here with only the distant front porch lamp from the restaurant and the stars casting light on us.
“Damn. You even clean up nice.” He winks.
“You call this clean?” I laugh, but when he steps closer, my breath catches in my throat. He leans in close, and I catch the scent of his cologne, something piney and masculine. His lips brush my cheek, and his stubble lightly scratches my cheek, making me itch
for more. But before I can turn to meet his lips, he steps back and strides around the other side of the car to open the door for me.
“Wow,” I comment, stepping around after him. “I didn’t realize big city gentlemen were still so chivalrous.”
“On the whole, we aren’t,” he replies with a smile as I slide past him into the car. My hand brushes his along the top of the door, and even that light touch is enough to send tingles cascading down my spine.
I hold my breath as he comes back around and settles into the driver’s seat. When he does, I’m aware all over again of how handsome he is. Of how long it’s been since I’ve let myself go out with anyone. Or even look at a guy like him twice.
“So. Where to?” he asks softly.
I’ve had all evening to think about this. “Well… there’s a spot on the outskirts of town that I love. It’s a bit out of the way, but at this hour, it will be deserted. I used to go stargazing there with my mom as a kid. Haven’t been there in years, but…”
“Sounds perfect,” he replies, and starts up the car. For a while, I just direct him, and we drive in mostly silence. But somehow, it doesn’t feel awkward or strange. Charged, maybe—every time he sneaks a glance in my direction, I swear I can feel my entire body heat up in response. But I don’t feel the need to babble endlessly to fill up the silence. It’s as if we’re both instantly comfortable in quiet around one another.
We make one of the last turns before the dirt road that rambles up to the cliff I have in mind, and Xander tightens his grip on the wheel as the road turns bumpy. “Sorry,” I say, glancing forward and back. “I probably should have warned you this would involve a little off-roading.”
“Believe me.” He pats the wheel of the Mercedes. “This baby has been through worse.”
I laugh. “Really?”
“I once drove out to the Catskills on a weekend camping trip. That was an adventure.”
“So you aren’t just a city slicker, huh?” I cast him a sideways grin.
He returns it. “Like I said, I do a lot of traveling through rural areas whenever our charity fund needs it. And besides, I don’t like to confine myself to any one environment. It’s nice to have both. Big city business and quiet country retreats.”
I stifle a smile, although a tiny part of me can’t help but feel a twinge. Imagine being able to have that—not only one place to call home, but many. All I’ve got is my tiny little apartment that Devan and I can barely afford to keep over our heads.
Then we reach the spot, and I push any thoughts of my depressing low-budget lifestyle from my mind. Tonight is about having fun. Sharing some of the more scenic parts of small town life with the sexy guy who rescued me from a world of trouble at work. That’s the least I can do, after everything he did for me earlier, right?
And if it means we get to spend more time together, well then, that’s icing on the cake. Because frankly, I’m glad I don’t have to stop gazing at his perfectly proportioned face anytime soon.
Seriously, the man won the genetic lotto, from the looks of it.
He parks the car and before I can even finish unbuckling my seat belt, he’s come around to open my door for me once more. I slide out with a smile for him, and when he takes my hand to help me from the car, he lets it linger in his grasp, his fingers interlacing between mine.
I lead him away from the car and wait for the headlights to automatically shut off. When they do, I hear Xander intake a soft breath, clearly taken aback by the scene. I have to admit, it even takes my breath away, despite me being familiar with what we’re about to see.
The town spreads out at our feet, a carpet of gabled roofs and winding streets, the occasional streetlight or illuminated window lighting the scene like strings of Christmas lights. Overhead, the moon hangs bright and three quarters full—enough to give us a good view all the way along the valley to where the river sparkles in the distance, snaking through the hills on the far side of town.
From this grassy cliff edge, we can see everything. All of the town that’s been my entire world, for my whole life.
“Absolutely breathtaking,” Xander murmurs. But when I cast a sideways glance at him, he’s not looking at the scene. He’s gazing straight at me, his eyes bright with desire.
I tilt toward him, unable to resist his gravitational pull for long. “This is it,” I say with a gesture. “My whole world.”
He glances away from me for long enough to drink it in.
“Pretty small, I know,” I murmur, my chest tightening.
He loops an arm around my waist and draws me against his side. I lean into him, grateful for the warmth of his body in the slowly chilling early fall evening air. “I might be biased at the moment,” he says, his chest rumbling with the sound of his deep baritone voice. “But I have to say, I find it charming.”
I tilt my head up, so my chin rests against his strong pec muscles. “You’re definitely biased.”
His mouth quirks into a grin. Then he reaches up to brush a stray piece of hair back from my forehead, tucking it behind my ear. His fingertips linger, tracing along my jawline, and I shiver with desire. “Perhaps,” he agrees amiably. His eyes shift back and forth, as if searching mine. Whatever he’s looking for, he must find it, because a moment later, he tips his face a few inches closer, until we’re so close we’re sharing the same breath between us. “Melanie,” he says softly, and my name has never sounded so damn sexy. “You realize I want you, right?”
I let out a soft laugh, even as my belly tightens and my thighs clench, the desire I’ve been feeling all night coalescing into something more potent. I can tell I’m already starting to get wet, just standing this close to him, breathing in his scent, feeling his hard chest pressed against mine. I can’t help it. I suck in a deep breath. “I noticed.”
He grins. “If you don’t want me, there’s no pressure. We might have an awkward drive back to town, but that’s all.”
I shake my head so hard he releases me. I wrap my arms around his waist and step back against him. “Trust me. The feeling is very mutual.”
His smirk widens. “Good.” Then his hand rises back to its position against my cheek, drawing me closer, his free hand slipping around my waist, tightening, drawing me in against him. I tilt my body against his, my eyes drifting his as he kisses me, slow and hard.
Fuck.
He tastes as good as he smells. No, better, because there’s a hint of something salty underneath. His lips part mine, and his tongue slides into my mouth, insistent. I tilt my head to the side, wrap both arms around his neck, and let him take control.
His arms slide around my waist and pull me hard against his body, until I can feel the outline of every one of his muscles. Not to mention the stiff press of his cock against my belly. I arch my hips against him and groan a little into the kiss as his cock slides against my stomach.
He pulls back just far enough for his eyes to find mine in the dark, his flashing with amusement. “Wait here,” he murmurs. Then he pulls away from me, and I gasp at the sudden absence of his body heat. All I want is to feel him pressed against me again, to drink in more of him.
But he’s not gone long. I watch him stride back to the car and pop the trunk. Then when I notice what he’s pulling out, I can’t help but laugh softly.
A blanket.
It’s big and fluffy, and when he spreads it on the grass at my feet, I can’t help but tilt my head, shooting him a sly grin. “Done this with a lot of girls before, have you?”
He returns my smirk as he catches my hand and gently draws me down onto the blanket beside him. It’s so soft I barely notice the grass beneath us. “This is my emergency blanket,” he says softly. “In case I wind up stuck in a snowdrift anywhere. My parents taught me to always be prepared for any hardship in life,” he adds, and a hint of bitterness sneaks into his tone.
But before I can ask anything more about that, he’s leaning back in again, and I slide back against him, forgetting about my curiosity as his lips sear
into mine once more.
He kisses me slowly, deeply, tilting me back as he does until we’re both laying along the blanket. Then he shifts on top of me, swinging his leg between my thighs until I part them and let him lie along my body. His cock digs into my thigh now, and I moan a little, trying to shift him closer to the center of me. But he’s doing this the slow way, clearly.
He trails his lips along the edge of my jaw, alternating between sucking and licking and nipping at my skin lightly, as he follows the edge of my neck, down to my collarbone. Then he bites me harder, making me gasp and arch up against him.
He draws back to grin down at me. “Take off your shirt,” he murmurs.
He doesn’t have to tell me twice.
I draw it off over my head, and toss it to the grass beside us, my eyes locked on his as I do. He leans back, hips resting over mine, and unbuttons his own shirt. With every button that comes undone, my breathing hitches faster. Damn. He’s cut as hell. Even more than I imagined. When he drops his shirt beside us, I can’t help myself. I reach out to trace my hands over his pecs, down his washboard abs to the cut V of his groin.
“God you are gorgeous,” he murmurs as he leans back down along me.
I savor the white-hot feeling of his skin against mine. I’m not even cold, despite the evening air. Overhead, the stars cast a bright glow over us, and his hands feel even hotter than the rest of him, searing my skin as they trace my curves.
“I want to taste every inch of you,” he breathes against the curve of my chest, right where my cleavage begins. My skin feels hotter than ever, damp as it is from his kisses, when he breathes out hotly against me.
I shiver and arch up toward him as his hands slide around to unclasp my bra and let it fall away between us. The night air makes my shivering even more prominent, but he quickly warms me up by drawing one of my nipples into his mouth, his other hand cupping my free breast and kneading softly. His tongue traces my nipple and I arch up against him with a gasp, my head falling back against the blanket and my hands snaking through his hair to tighten against his scalp.