The rumble of a truck idling just outside my front door had me peeking through the glass.
I was currently pacing back and forth, trying to decide whether I should wait on the porch or go hide under my covers.
Avery, why did you do this to me?
I didn’t go on dates. Well, not since before I was married. And even then, I was bad at them.
I’d googled Max, and the man came from old money. He was ivy league educated, born rich, hella good-looking, and of course, the man was a dog.
A real playboy, dating supermodels and top actresses, and who knew who else.
Sadly, I was disappointed my first assumption was right. The city boy was just wasting time here, playing at being a cowboy.
He’d be gone soon. I was sure of it.
Do not get attached, Penelope.
That’s the mantra I’d been repeating all damn day. I had a nasty habit of making mountains of molehills, and ever since I discovered what a lying piece of crap my ex was, it had only gotten worse.
I was having a few problems with this whole date, though.
First, Max had never really asked me out. If anything, Avery kind of bullied him into it.
Second, well, he didn’t call or come by the bakery again to confirm.
What if it was all just a joke?
How stupid would I feel if I’d left work early for a mani-pedi and a wax appointment just to stay home alone?
Then again, the sound of the engine outside kinda made me feel better. I didn’t get a look at his car the other day, but that was a really nice truck. And it was new. Like the kind someone who just moved out here might buy.
I bit my lip.
Why are you being a chicken? Open the damn door.
My inner voice was a bossy beyotch sometimes. But I needed a moment, so I paused and pressed my forehead against the cool wood of my newly painted red door.
I’d always wanted a red door, I thought inanely.
Thank God for Avery.
Without my nosy best friend, I’d have had to live in a cheap motel after the divorce. But Avery had inherited her grandmother’s place when she’d been a freshman in college.
Figuring it could be a steady source of passive income, she had it separated into two units and rented one out almost immediately.
The older couple who’d lived here before me recently moved to Georgia to get away from the rough winters, and it was like kismet.
The sound of car door slamming jogged me from my thoughts, and I gulped.
Damn my nerves.
I glanced at myself in the hall mirror. Getting dressed up wasn’t something I did very much anymore. Well, not that I ever really did.
I was a sweats and t-shirts kind of girl.
But it was the end of summer, and the nights were comfortably cool. Just perfect for a long dress.
Plus, this was a date.
A first date, and out of practice or not, I still remembered those.
After my nails and wax appointments, I’d given myself a deep conditioning treatment to try to tame the dark, usually frizzy curls that just touched my shoulders.
I hardly ever just let my hair down anymore, what with baking and everything, it was easier to torture it into a bun at my nape. So me doing this was kind of special.
Leaving it down felt nice, even though I discovered more than a couple of grays sprinkled through the brown.
I would just deal with it like I had everything else life threw at me lately. Straight on and with my head up.
I wasn’t usually big on make-up, but I’d added some powder to control my shiny forehead and nose. That with some dark, smoky eyeliner and shimmery eyeshadow, a couple of swipes of mascara, and some lip gloss, and I looked good.
Even better, I felt good, too.
There was nothing to be done about my curves, and really, I wasn’t embarrassed by my body.
Comfort was my thing, and ultimately, the flowy maxi dress with dark red flowers I was wearing was super comfy.
The material was light and soft, and it was loose but not overly big.
I loved how it ended around my ankles in a soft flutter of fabric.
There were big red buttons down the front, all the way to the bottom.
I had the bottom six open, so it split the skirt above my knee, flashing a bit of thigh when I walked.
I also daringly left the first button open, revealing my pretty damn fantastic cleavage, if I did say so myself.
I paused and smiled to myself. I felt pretty. And I hadn’t felt that in a long time.
A rough knock sounded, and my attention went back to the door.
“You gonna open the door, Sugarplum?” Max questions, and I swore I heard a smile in there somewhere.
So hot.
He knew I was in there.
Duh.
The top of the door was glass, and he was tall, so likely he could see my head.
Okay. Calm down.
This was it.
Go time.
Squaring my shoulders, I turned the brass knob and opened the damn thing.
But I wasn’t prepared for the thousand watt grin that greeted me, or the devilishly handsome man to whom it belonged.
Holy. Hell.
I felt that smile in my knees, and yes, they went a little bit weak.
He’d been hot in his work clothes at the bakery the other night. But dressed in clean dark jeans and a tight black t-shirt, the man looked like a magazine ad.
Get your tongue back in your mouth and say something, Penelope.
“Hi,” I murmured, and his eyes raked over me, pausing on the curve of my breasts.
“Hey there, Sugar. You wear that dress for me?” he asked and stepped closer.
Oddly enough, I felt compelled to reply. So I nodded.
“You look nice. Real nice,” he whispered.
The temperature seemed to skyrocket. I needed to do something before I could do something really dumb, like throw myself at him and beg him to take me right there in the foyer.
“So, you ready, cowboy? Or did you want to stare at my cleavage some more?”?
“Do I have to pick one? I am pretty sure I can be ready and stare at your fantastic tits at the same time,” he replied easily.
My mouth dropped open.
Should I thank him for the weird compliment?
I shook my head.
“So, you’re a multi-tasker. Who’d a thunk it?” I sassed back.
“Sugarplum, when I get to multi-tasking, you’ll know,” he told me with a rumbling growl and a slow wink that had me wondering if maybe panties were overrated on a first date.
He took my hand in his, and I noted the size difference with pleasure. I was short, but I was very conscious of my width.
Next to Max, I felt positively petite.
“Keys?” he murmured, and I frowned not understanding what he meant until he reached for the keys I held in my hand.
Max locked the door for me and handed them back before recapturing my hand in his and leading me to his truck.
“Um, this is kind of high,” I murmured when he opened the passenger door.
The chirp of insects was hushed in the background and a breeze had my dress swirling about my ankles. The air felt charged with something, or maybe that was just the electricity between us.
I tried to ignore it. Focusing on his truck, instead. It was huge, and there was no running board.
Even with my flowy skirt, it was going to be awkward trying to climb inside.
“Ooh!” I yelped the second I felt his big hands close around my waist.
He was undoubtedly feeling my softer than average belly, but the way he pressed his hard body against my backside, and I really meant hard, I knew he didn’t mind.
Oh my God.
“Th-thank you,” I whispered, mouth suddenly dry.
“Don’t thank me. I bought it like this on purpose.”
“So short people couldn’t get in?” I teased.
“Nah. So one day I’d have an excuse to help a pretty woman climb on up,” he said, close enough to my ear, shivers raced down my spine like wild horses across a plain.
I pretended not to be affected, but the knowing smirk on his too handsome face said he knew better.
I sat primly as he closed the door and buckled my seatbelt, pretending that didn’t just happen.
Pretty woman.
Yeah, right. More like women. Just how many had he had in this truck?
Look at him, Pen, he must have hundreds of girls he can call on a second’s notice.
This was a mistake.
I was an idiot for agreeing to go out with him. Max was a stranger, and I was still pulling my life together after the divorce.
“Hold on, I see your brain working a mile a minute. Tell me what’s wrong,” he said, those brilliant blue eyes of his narrowed on my face as he put the truck into drive.
“Look, um, Avery meant well trying to shove us together—”
“That’s your friend from the other night?” he interrupted.
Gosh, his truck smelled good.
Like new.
I couldn’t help but breathe in deep, and oh boy, was that a mistake.
If I had a weakness when it came to men, it was cologne.
I hated overly pungent smells of any kind and before right then I would have been ready to bet Max wore something over the top.
Except, when I breathed in, I was greeted by something dark and spicy just beneath that new car scent.
Whatever fragrance he wore, it wasn’t overwhelming in the least.
It was subtle.
Sexy.
Probably expensive.
But I didn’t hate it.
Not at all.
I sucked in another breath, closing my eyes as I tried to identify what it was.
Was that sandalwood?
And leather.
Wait, there was more. Like the woods or a pine forest?
And there was an elusive spiciness, too.
Bottom line, he smelled good. Too good.
Intoxicating.
Mesmerizing.
Tempting.
Way too tempting for a girl like me.
I cleared my throat and admired the black seats with red trim. Absently, I traced the strange design that seemed branded onto the dashboard.
Were those horns?
“Sugar? Avery is your friend, right?” he asked again, his voice low and comforting.
I met his blue-eyed stare and saw curiosity and something more in their bottomless depths.
“Yeah. She is my best friend. But, um,” I continued, breaking eye contact and fiddling with my dress, “I mean, she meant well, setting up this date and all, but I understand she kind of sprung it on you. And well, you don’t have to follow through. Really, we can just skip it and act polite when we see each other in town.”
“First, why would I want to skip this date? I haven’t been to a drive-in in, well, I’ve never been to a drive-in. Second, and probably more important than the first thing I said, I’ve been looking forward to seeing you again all week.”
“You have not,” I replied quickly, even though it made my heart pound just imaging it was true.
“I really have. Sugar, you’ve been on my mind nonstop. Tell me you haven’t been picturing this. You and me together,” he challenged.
I was a lot of things, but a liar wasn’t one of them.
In fact, it was the one thing I loathed above everything else.
Burt was a liar. He’d said he was going to love, honor and cherish me for the rest of my life. That turd hadn’t made it one year before the cheating began.
“Fine, I’ve been thinking about it,” I confessed, trying to tame an errant curl by sticking it behind my ear.
“Yeah? What about?”
“I’ve been curious. You know, people in town are talking about you.”
“I bet they are,” he replied with an easy smile.
That damn curl popped out from behind my ear, and I sighed, trying once more to make it behave.
I froze when Max reached out with one big, warm hand and untucked the mischievous lock.
“I like your hair wild,” he murmured.
He made a rumbly sound in his throat and dragged his finger down my cheek and neck before pulling away.
Was it wrong I already missed the contact?
Probably.
I turned my head, meeting his gorgeous eyes before he turned to watch the road.
“You don’t need to be tame for me, Sugarplum. I like you just the way you are.”
“You don’t know me,” I said, and that time, there was nothing I could do to stop my heart from pounding away.
“Doesn’t matter. I know what I like. And I know I like your curls when they look fresh and wild. So fucking sexy, Sugarplum,” he said, and holy hell, there went that growl of his again.
“You don’t have to say things like that to me.”
“Things like what?”
“Things you would say to seduce the beautiful women you normally pursue. I looked you up, you know. And Barren County isn’t ripe with single ladies or any kind of nightlife, except for this drive-in, and Bob’s Bar, and like one restaurant. I know you must be lonely for the kind of entertainment you’re accustomed to,” I said.
“I see why you’d think that, having looked me up and all, but I am calling party foul.”
“What? Why? Isn’t it all true,” I countered.
“What you read in the tabloids Hell no. Now, tell me one thing you read about me, and I will tell you the real truth,” he said, expertly maneuvering the truck down a side road.
“Fine. What about the one where you went skinny-dipping in a fountain in Rome with some supermodel after Fashion Week?”
“First, I didn’t know she was there. I was skinny dipping because I was on vacation with my butthead cousin and his family, celebrating his wife’s birthday, and he dared me to,” Max explained.
“Now, what do you have for me next?” he asked.
“Okay, well, what about the newly married woman you flew to Vegas with in your private jet after taking her right out of her own reception without her husband?” I questioned.
“Grossly exaggerated. Her husband was on the jet with us. The honeymoon was my gift to them, but he was so drunk, he’d passed out on board and yes, I took his bride to gamble while he slept on the plane.”
“Fine. Maybe the tabloids are wrong sometimes. But, well, I’m just saying d-don’t use your moves on me, okay? I’m not like your typical woman, Max,” I said, and silently prayed he would listen.
“I know. You’re like no one I have ever met before,” he said, and fuck, I could almost believe him.
“I’m not built for games, Max. I’ve had more than my share of men who play with women, and I don’t think I can do that again.”
I didn’t know why I said that. We’d gone from jovial to grim in seconds.
Max went quiet, and I sat there in the discomfort I created.
I should call Avery. She got me into this mess, and she could get me out of it.
I was just about to text her when Max pulled up behind the line of cars waiting to get in and turned in his seat, cupping one large hand behind the back of my neck and forcing my gaze to his.
His electric eyes were almost glowing, and I wondered if it was a trick of the light. I could hardly breathe under the feel of his strong, warm hand gripping me coupled with the intensity of that stare.
“I think we should clear a few things up before we go in,” Max growled. “First, I’m so fucking sorry you were hurt. I would never want that. But I am not sorry your loser ex is out of your life—”
“Why?” I interrupted, trying to moan as he moved his hand so that his thumb stroked my chin and throat while he still held onto my neck.
Holy. Fucking. Hotness.
“Well, for one thing, it saves me from having to murder that piece of shit. Second, Avery might have instigated the conversation, but I was already going to ask you out, Penelope. With Avery’s interference or without.”
“What? And wait a minute, you were going to ask me out? But why?”
I hated the insecure part of me that had me asking the question. But I was only human.
It was hard to think straight with his hand on my neck and the other one cradling my cheek as he moved in closer.
“Because of this,” Max growled and slammed his lips to mine.