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I giggle quietly, only so I can soak up the sound of Ford’s deep, hearty laugh. It sweeps through me like an ocean wave, calming and with just enough force to knock me on my ass if I’m not careful.

“Sorry, we’ve kinda monopolized the conversation,” Ford says, taking a drink from his beer bottle. His eyes are like laser beams across the fire, direct and intense. I can feel them through the heat of the dancing flames, which only causes more warmth to flood between my legs. “So, tell me who that jackass was at the bar.”

Sighing, I spin my empty bottle in my hands. Fortunately, I’m saved from having to answer right away because Chad jumps in.

“He’s a douchebag. Connor Jorgeson. Thinks he owns this town and is above everyone in it. He was a prick back in school, and it appears he hasn’t changed in the least.”

“No, he definitely hasn’t changed. His dad owns the big bank, which is how he got his job,” I confirm, not sure how much Chad knew since he had been gone.

“He give you problems like that often?” Ford asks, his focus solely on me. There’s something in his voice that surprises me. It’s a touch of danger mixed with concern. I’d expect that response from Chad, but not from his friend. The one I’ve known for approximately four hours.

I shrug. “I can handle Connor.”

Ford sits up straight in his Adirondack chair and meets my gaze. “There’s not a doubt in my mind that you could handle him, but the point is, you shouldn’t have to.”

Again, I lift my shoulders. “He may be a dick, but he’s harmless.”

“No one should put their hands on you without your consent, Shayne.” His words are soft yet sharp, as if it truly bothers him that Connor did what he did.

I give him a nod, suddenly unable to form words. There’s something so powerful in the intensity of his eyes and the way he captivates my attention that leaves me a little speechless, which is crazy talk, because I’m never speechless.

“If you want, I can show you a few self-defense moves while I’m home,” Chad chimes in, his stance relaxed in the chair, but I can see the tightness around his mouth from over here.

“I’ll be fine, Chad, but thanks for the offer. Jet isn’t going to allow anything to happen to me at work. Did I tell you he upgraded the security at the back of the building when I moved in?”

When I moved into the apartment above the bar that Jet once lived in, he made sure everything was in tip-top working order, and that included video security monitoring and an alarm system on the doors. He spared no expense in making sure I was safe and that no one could access the apartment without my permission.

“I know Jet’s got your back, Shay. That’s one of the main reasons I didn’t pitch a fit when you started working there,” Chad adds, earning an eye roll. Like he would have had any say over what job I took. The fact was I needed money, and bartending made that happen. The tips are good, and no one bothers me most of the time.

While Chad starts telling Ford all about getting up early in the morning and taking care of the farm, I lean back and just gaze at the stars. I’ve always loved watching the night sky, the clouds rolling in, the jet airstreams, the occasional falling star. There’s something so peaceful and serene about it that has always called to me. Often as a child, I’d slip outside to escape the fighting between my mom and whatever boyfriend she brought home for the night. I’d go lie in the middle of the yard and just stare up at the stars, hoping and praying I’d see a falling one so I could make a wish.

I’d dream about freshly mowed green grass and carpet that wasn’t covered in mold, pet, and food stains. In those dreams, there’d be a father and mother, both who would ask me about my day as we sat around the dinner table together. They’d tuck me into bed every night and occasionally steal a kiss or two before they left me to fall asleep under those glow-in-the-dark plastic stars. Never in my dreams would a drunk man stumble into my bedroom in the middle of the night and want to “lie with me” for a while. Mom would never beg me to ask for money from my aunt and uncle, making me promise it was “the last time” I had to tell a lie about what it was for. I’d never have to mow lawns for my neighbors and squirrel away the money just so I could make sure the gas was kept on so we had heat in the winter. In those dreams, I never fell in love with the charming man who promised me the world, only to find out it wasn’t his to promise.


Tags: Kaylee Ryan Romance