Total pages in book: 53
Estimated words: 50811 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 254(@200wpm)___ 203(@250wpm)___ 169(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 50811 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 254(@200wpm)___ 203(@250wpm)___ 169(@300wpm)
“You’re the best, Randi!”
Just like that, she was skipping down the aisle toward the produce section, and for a minute there she almost could’ve been the little girl I used to give airplane and piggy-back rides to. Happy, carefree, and full of mischief. Now she was forcing herself to grow up too damned fast, just like I had.
It wasn’t right.
“Randi?” I froze, because I knew that voice.
Rome McGuire.
The sound was rough and sexy, with just a hint of a growl. Deeper than it’d been eight years ago, when I’d thrown caution to the wind and hopped on the back of his motorcycle for one glorious night.
Back then, I’d still been a shy little thing, terrified that some hot biker might actually want to talk to me, let alone take me out. When I caught him watching me at the party, I remembered studying the floor, his shirt collar, even the beer in my plastic cup, because I hadn’t known what to do with myself around such raw male glory. Apparently some things never change, because when I turned to face him, I found myself staring at the floor again.
This was a mistake, because his feet were down there. And the battered, black leather boots he wore led to jeans-covered legs. Legs topped by thick, muscular thighs.
Stop it. You’re acting like a giant dork! My brain hissed.
Oblivious and mesmerized, my gaze rose to the faded denim around his fly, and it was all over. My eyes started tracing the folds of the Okanogan Fire and Rescue T-shirt covering his still-muscular chest, although the Reapers Motorcycle Club vest he wore was a change. Back then, he’d been hanging around the Nighthawk Raiders MC. That whole club had disappeared for reasons I’d never fully understood, and the Reapers had taken over the town shortly afterward. Apparently Rome was one of them now.
Interesting…
I’d always wondered what’d happened to Rome after I’d left. We’d never said goodbye. That summer, the wildfires had swept through so fast that my family had to evacuate with the clothes on our backs. We hadn’t bothered to come back and sift through the ashes.
I’d kept in touch with my old boss, Tinker, of course.
I’d even considered asking her about Rome, but in some ways those fires were the best thing that ever happened to me. Starting over meant starting college in Missoula, and then a whole new life.
Wasn’t like Rome and I could’ve ever been anything real, anyway. Guys like him weren’t for girls like me.
My gaze reached his neck, which bristled with thick, black stubble that was more than a little out of control—this was different from when I’d known him before. Not that he’d ever been baby-faced, but he’d definitely matured. Now there were a few wrinkles around those dark blue eyes, although the dimple was still there. So was the crooked smile that’d spontaneously combusted my panties.
Correction.
A crooked smile that was currently combusting my panties. Who knew that a supermarket could be such dangerous territory?
“Been a long time,” he said. I shrugged, unsure what to say. I mean, yeah, we’d gone out on a date. He’d kissed me and wow… Not that we’d gotten much past second base, but he’d scored a home run in the lower deck of my ballpark, if you know what I mean. But he was one of those guys—you know, the kind of guys who hit lots of home runs with lots of girls.
“Yeah, well…” My words trailed off.
“No worries,” he replied. “Things fell to shit after the fires. We spent months chasing them down in the hills. Tinker said you’d gone to Missoula. That you were going to school. She was proud of you for getting out of here, I think. What brings you back to town?”
“Um, it’s my ten-year reunion,” I told him, flushing. “My mom moved back a couple years ago. Good to see her, and she still has two of the kids at home.”
Awkward silence fell. Then he reached down and caught my hand. My left hand.
“No ring?”
I shrugged. “Not yet. You?”
“Nope.”
I waited for him to let go. To make some small talk, and then say he had to go do something manly. You know, like rebuild a carburetor, or maybe shoot a bear. Rome didn’t, though. Instead, he rubbed the empty spot on my ring finger, his expression thoughtful.
His own finger was rough. Calloused. It caught against mine, almost but not quite scratching me.
“You got plans for tonight?” he asked. I shrugged again, because my plans were way too boring to share. I was going to balance my mom’s checkbook and then go through the giant stack of bills sitting on her counter, paying them in order of importance. If things got wild and crazy, I might eat some microwave popcorn.
Yup. I knew how to have a good time.