“Sex. God.”

Riley Ames perked up at the two words from the blond at the next table. Who wouldn’t? The other woman was talking to her friend, but that was eavesdrop-worthy stuff right there.

“The man should open a spa or a clinic or something.”

“A sex spa?” her friend asked with a laugh.

“I’m not kidding,” the first woman went on. “I have never felt as good as I did after that weekend with him. Relaxed, happy, beautiful, and completely spent. I smiled for days after that. And I didn’t get my vibrator out for over two weeks. It was that good.”

Okay, seriously? Riley was supposed to concentrate on her work with that conversation going on three feet away? She pivoted her computer and surreptitiously scooted her chair so that she could see the women better. She continued to study her laptop screen, pretending to be focused on her own work, but she was completely tuned in to the conversation now.

The blond was curvy and had half of the inventory at Sephora on her face. And, if she was from around here, then she’d gotten that Sephora online because there wasn’t a store for fifty miles, Riley noted as an aside. One more strike against Sapphire Falls.

Riley was all about makeup and the fun that could be had with a good palette of colors and some high-quality brushes. She easily spent an hour getting ready every morning herself. But she didn’t like to look like she spent an hour getting ready every morning. Less was more.

Sephora was the one who knew the Sex God. She was drinking red wine and wore a fitted black dress that was a little much for the Come Again, the only bar in Sapphire Falls. The dress code here went a little less lace and a lot more denim.

“And I didn’t care about Zach at all after that weekend,” she said. “I mean, this guy completely fucked him out of my system.”

Well, okay then.

“You were almost engaged to Zach,” her friend, a brunette with curls and more of a girl-next-door look, said.

“I know. That’s what I’m saying. No more booty calls for Zach. No more letting him walk all over me. I’m cured.”

Riley couldn’t help but be a bit impressed with that. Sex God for the win.

It wasn’t that she didn’t realize how sad it was to be completely into this conversation and intrigued by another person’s sex life. But she was in Sapphire Falls. Tiny, everything’s-always-the-same, everyone-knows-everyone Sapphire Falls. And she’d now been here for three months. Creepy or not, listening to this woman talk about an amazing weekend of sex was the most interesting conversation she’d had in a while.

She was living in her parents’ basement, sleeping ’til noon—or trying to at least, when her mom didn’t bang around the house at the crack of dawn—wearing sweatpants all day, eating chips by the bagful, and on her computer until three a.m. every morning. And yes, she was online gaming for several of those hours. Because the work she was doing was easy and, frankly, there wasn’t very much of it. Hence, the need to be living with her parents again at the age of twenty-six.

Basically, she had reverted back to her thirteen-year-old self. And her fourteen-year-old self. And fifteen. And…yeah, it was sad and pathetic. And she, unlike this very satisfied, over-her-ex woman, had not gone two weeks without her vibrator.

Okay, so that was a little different from her teenage self.

But otherwise, Riley was right back where she’d started—and she was about to go crazy.

Maybe she needed to meet this Sex God. She had to admit that she’d had some pretty good sex. She was no stranger to hot-sweaty-awesome weekends. But she wasn’t sure she’d been with anyone she would label a God. And definitely not in Sapphire Falls.

“So you need this guy,” Sephora said. “We’ll chat with him tonight, and then you can come back here on Friday, okay?”

Riley perked up at that. The Sex God would be here? Oh yeah, this was getting all kinds of interesting. And she was very grateful to these two women. She might have to buy their next round.

Riley settled back in her chair and pulled up a game of solitaire. No way was she leaving before she saw the God for herself, and no way could she concentrate on the new website design she was doing now.

“I don’t know,” the brunette said. “I’m not very good at flirting and stuff.”

Her friend laughed. “That’s part of the beauty. You don’t even have to be good at it. He’s good at it.”

“What’s he look like?” Curly asked.

Yeah, what’s he look like, Sephora? Riley asked in her head. She was beyond curious now.

“Tall, big hands.” Sephora laughed. “He’s got dark brown hair, gorgeous blue eyes and he’s built. He does a bunch of manual labor—yard work, construction, farm work—so he’s in great shape, has great abs, a fabulous ass, and arms…” She sighed happily.

Riley assumed she meant that he had great arm muscles because if he was doing yard work and farm work, having arms was pretty helpful, but she refrained from commenting. Or snorting out loud. She cracked herself up sometimes.

“Is he easy to talk to?” Curly asked, scratching at the label on her beer bottle.

Ah, she’s a little nervous, Riley thought. So this one wasn’t quite as into fucking her ex out of her system with a weekend fling, perhaps.

“He’s a huge flirt,” Sephora told her. “You won’t have to worry much about talking. Except the dirty kind,” she said with a grin. “He’s really good at that.”

Riley had to admit that dirty talk was a mark in the pro column for her too. But she wanted to know if the guy didn’t need to talk much because women’s panties just dropped off whenever he was around, or if he didn’t have much to say that was interesting or noteworthy. As in, he mostly read Sports Illustrated, had all the ESPN channels on his cable package, and spent his time hunting and fishing with his buddies where quiet was a must.

And none of that narrowed down who this guy was.

Riley acknowledged that she was being super judgmental. Yes, the guys around here were interested in things she had no interest in. Yes, she had a hard time having an engaging conversation with most of them. But that didn’t mean they weren’t nice guys. They were, by and large. In fact, they were almost too nice. And hey, if the woman only needed Sex God for his magic cock, then it didn’t really matter if he used his computer mostly for porn. Or solitaire, she thought wryly, as she moved the eight of spades to the next column.

“And he’s really cool with just a one-night thing?” the brunette asked. “Like, I can even be up front about that?”

Riley almost snorted again. She didn’t even need to know who he was to know that he was really cool with just a one-night thing.

“For sure,” Sephora said. “This is what he’s best at.”

“One-night stands?”

“For just being all about the short-term fun. It’s like…eating dessert for dinner. Not something you’d want to do all the time, but once in a while it’s fun and makes you realize that you shouldn’t take everything so seriously all the time.” Sephora sighed. “No one should have to eat salad for every meal.”

“Zach was salad?” her friend asked.

Sephora nodded. “Zach was what I thought I should do. We’d been dating since our junior year. I mean, I just assumed we were supposed to get married. He was comfortable and good for me and…the same. No matter what I tried to add to it, it was still just salad.”

Riley thought maybe she should feel at least mildly amused at the analogy. But the truth was, she totally understood Sephora. It was really easy to get caught up in a salad life. It wasn’t bad. In fact, it seemed like a good idea. It was certainly nothing anyone would judge. But at the same time, you could add croutons and Craisins all over the place, it was still just a bunch of lettuce underneath.

But dessert…that was a whole other thing. There were so many different kinds, different flavors, different experiences to be had with a dessert menu.

“But if you eat it for every meal, even chocolate could get old, right?” Curly asked. “So it’s good that this guy is a short-term thing.”

“Maybe,” Sephora said. “But I sure wouldn’t mind trying to get sick of his chocolate, if you know what I mean.”

Curly and Riley both knew what she meant.

Who was this guy? Riley couldn’t wait to see. And to see if she knew him. Because if she did, she had to find out if he knew about this reputation. Either the guy was brilliant and had cultivated this reputation and was, she had to admit, using it for a greater good in helping women get their mojo back. Or he was…brilliant and had marketed a bunch of B.S. that was getting him laid on a regular basis and praised in small town bars across the county.

There simply weren’t enough jilted, or even single, women in Sapphire Falls to keep him this busy.

These women weren’t from here. They were within two years on either side of Riley’s twenty-six, and if they were Sapphire Falls girls she would have known them. Hell, she would have known them no matter how old they were. Or of them at least. Sapphire Falls was tiny and no one got away with being reclusive. Plus, Sephora was not a reclusive kind of girl. That was clear.

Riley focused on her computer screen again, but couldn’t care less about the card game in front of her. Keep going, Sephora. Tell us more.

“He sounds amazing,” Curly said, almost wistfully. “How do you leave the next morning? Don’t you want more?”

Ooh, good question. Did the guy have stalkers all over the tri-county area now? Were women yearning and longing and weeping over no longer having him and his Cock of Wonder?

“Oh, no. It’s pretty easy to leave in the morning,” Sephora said.

“Oh?”

Sephora nodded. “He’ll give you every fantasy that night, but the next day he says goodbye, hands you a cup of coffee and walks you out to your car.” She paused and then added, “He seriously has like fifteen flavors of coffee to choose from and like eight flavors of creamer and syrups. You can have whatever kind you want. But he also has a stash of disposable coffee cups with lids in his kitchen. So, you get the coffee fixed exactly the way you want it, and then you take it with you.”

Riley had to cover her laugh with a cough. Oh my God, who was this guy? Because she was kind of impressed. Maybe a little horrified, but mostly impressed. Because it sounded like the women knew exactly what they were getting into, agreed to it, and had a hell of a good time. And then got coffee.

“So, don’t even think about dating him,” Curly said. “Got it.”

“Yeah, don’t get attached,” Sephora agreed. “Though, really, I don’t think that’s a risk.”

“No?” Curly said. “He sounds amazing.”

Riley wasn’t so sure that amazing was the word she’d use, but he was intriguing.

“He’s hot-fling material,” Sephora said. “Not boyfriend material. Once you get past the orgasms, and look around his apartment and stuff, you’ll realize he’s a confirmed bachelor and would be way too much work to convert.”

Okay, well, trying to convert anyone into anything else was always a bad idea, but Riley was glad this woman was cautioning her friend against even trying.

“Is it a dump?” Curly asked.

“Not really. It’s just very…male. He has a few kinds of body wash you can pick from in his bathroom, and he has nice towels and stuff. I thought that was interesting,” she said. “But the rest of the place…looks like a guy lives there with no female influence at all.”

The guy gave these women a choice of coffee creamer and body wash at his place? Good Lord. Riley had to admit that impressed was starting to edge out horrified. He was kind of a master. And the disposable, to-go coffee cups? Brilliant.

The door to the Come Again opened just then and Riley realized Sephora was facing the door. No doubt waiting to spot the Sex God. Though Riley thought the guy really should walk around with a T-shirt proclaiming him as such. Or something. Did the guy glow? Did he have a halo over his head for all the good he was doing for the area women?

“Oh!” Sephora gasped. “There he is.”

Riley almost hurt her neck snapping it around to see who had come through the door.

But the next second, she frowned.

No. That couldn’t be right. The woman must be confused. Because the guy who had just walked into the Come Again was Derek Wright. The bartender. Riley’s brother’s best friend. The guy she thought of as a second brother. Her second, even more annoying brother, to be exact. The guy who had once put dead spiders in her bed. She’d kicked his ass for that. Of course, then he’d been scrawny and a lot shorter than he was now.

“Oh my God, he’s gorgeous,” Curly said.

Riley looked from her and then in the direction she was staring. But no, she was still looking at Derek.

“I know, right?” Sephora said. “Look at those shoulders.”

So, Riley did. But they were just shoulders. On Derek. The guy who, when she was eight and he was twelve, put all of her Barbies in compromising positions with Kyle’s army guys all over her bedroom. She remembered being shocked that Derek had known those positions. In fact, looking back now, she was still a little shocked.

She narrowed her eyes and studied the guy that she’d known her entire life. Literally. He’d been there when her parents had brought her home from the hospital as a newborn. He’d lived next door and decided that where there was excitement and cake, he too would be.

But Sex God? She winced. She wasn’t sure she should know the stuff she now knew about him. Or that she wanted to.

Then again, maybe the girls were looking at someone else at the bar. It was Tuesday night, so it wasn’t like it was packed, but there were three other guys up there. Of course, one was her brother, Kyle. And she did not want to know if the girls were talking about him.

But it couldn’t be Kyle. For one, he didn’t live in a house, he lived over at Ty Bennett’s place, a sort-of boarding house type setup. He was building a house, but it was far from finished. For another, he worked horribly long and erratic hours as the town physician, so he’d hardly have time for all of this Good Samaritan screwing. Even before Hannah, his one true love, had walked back into his life. Which she had. So no, it wasn’t Kyle.

But maybe they were talking about—

“So that, my friend, is Derek Wright. The man who is going to change your whole sad, post-break-up perspective,” Sephora said.

Well, crap. So much for pretending they were talking about someone else.

“Okay,” Curly said with a nod. “But, why is he all muddy?”

Riley looked back over to where Derek was now leaning on the bar. He was the main bartender here, but the business belonged to Bryan Murray, who was currently behind the bar. Derek was leaning on his forearms, laughing with the guys, including Bryan and Kyle. And Curly was right. He was muddy. Not as in his shoes were muddy from being outside. He was muddy from the ass down. And it looked like he had streaks of mud on his arms and even his face. What the hell was that about?

And for reasons she couldn’t quite explain, Riley pushed up out of her chair and headed in that direction. As she approached Derek, her mind swirled with all of the things she’d overheard. He was well-known for his short-term flings? He made women feel better after their breakups? He was…a Sex God? He had flavored coffee creamers in his kitchen?

No freaking way.

“Can I talk to you?” she asked, walking right up to him and interrupting whatever conversation was going on between the guys.

Derek looked over at her and lifted a brow. “Me?”

She rolled her eyes. She was looking right at him. “Yes, you.”

“Uh, yeah. Okay.”

Uh, yeah. Okay. Well, she could believe the part about him not being much of a talker. He did, indeed, fit the stereotype of the guy who was pretty much about sports, hunting, and fishing. Which were also technically sports, so…sports. He was all about sports. Not technological advances, not math and science, not world-wide communications and cooperation. He was into throwing balls and killing things.

And orgasms. She couldn’t forget the orgasms.

Even though she seriously wanted to.

“Riley?” Derek waved a hand in front of her face.

She blinked and shook her head. Dammit. Why did he have to be the Sex God?

“In back?” she asked.

Now he looked more interested and maybe even a touch concerned. “Okay.”

He straightened from the bar, and she was hit by how not-scrawny he was now. No way could she kick his ass for anything. He was six-two or three, lean, muscled—yeah, yeah, his arms were impressive—and…damn, his shoulders really were wide.

“You alright?” Kyle asked.

He was slightly behind her, because Riley had been solely focused on Derek and had shoved in right between them. She looked over her shoulder. “Yeah. Of course. Just need to ask Derek something.”

Are you aware of the Sex God title? How the hell did that happen? What’s wrong with you? Do you really want to only be known for that? And are you using condoms? Because that’s a really good way to get a disease that could make your miraculous cock dry right up and fall off.

And she’d just thought of Derek’s cock as miraculous.

No. She could not handle this. This was not okay.

Derek headed for the back room through the swinging door behind the bar. Riley took two seconds to breathe deeply and rein in her stupid, disturbing thoughts—like the one where a plastic soldier was on his knees with his face between Barbie’s legs—and started after him.

Okay, they were not going to talk about sex. No way. All of this was none of her business. Derek could do whatever he wanted with whoever he wanted. If his dick caught the plague and fell off, that was his own fault.

But he had multiple kinds of coffee and body wash for his “overnight guests”? That was kind of…nice. Or something. Sure, he was booting them out as soon as the sun rose, but he was being considerate about it. Or as considerate as a guy handing a woman a disposable coffee cup that said it’s-not-you-it’s-me-don’t-call-me-and-I-won’t-call-you could be.

And hey, Sephora hadn’t seemed upset. He’d helped her move on. He’d practically done charity work, to hear her tell it.

“What’s up?” he asked with a frown the second Riley came through the swinging door into the kitchen area.

“Isn’t that a health code violation or something?” she asked, gesturing to his muddy jeans and boots.

“You’re worried about the cleanliness of my kitchen?” he asked.

Of course she wasn’t worried about his kitchen. She wasn’t really worried about anything. Except maybe…him. Or his reputation. Or his STD status. All of which was completely ridiculous.

“Well, I eat food out of this kitchen. I’d like to know it doesn’t have earthworms in it.”

Derek gave her a little half smile. “You’ve eaten worse.”

She sighed. Well, she wasn’t sure it was worse than earthworms. He’d put smashed-up ants in her peanut butter once. Then she narrowed her eyes. She knew about the ants. It was very possible that he’d done something worse that she didn’t know about.

“I don’t want to know,” she said.

“You’re right,” he told her with a nod.

Well, he might have a magic cock, but he was still kind of a dick.

“Why are you all muddy?” Riley asked, looking him up and down with her very familiar you’re-such-a-dumbass look.

Derek had gotten that look from her probably a million times in his life. It still made him grin. “Because I fell in the mud.”

She sighed.

To be honest, he played up the dumbass stuff for Riley’s benefit. She’d always been a too-smart, geeky know-it-all, and he’d loved playing the big dumb buffoon who wasn’t worthy to even engage in conversation with her. She loved to spout off about politics and climate change and women’s rights and the arts. And if she got started on technology and social media, she could talk the Pope to drink.

It wasn’t that Derek didn’t care about those things or have opinions, but the girl had always used big words on purpose—with a snotty, you’re-not-worthy tone of voice—and loved to debate and, frankly, she was exhausting.

So whenever he’d been around her, from about age twelve to, well, now, he just played along that he didn’t have a clue. That way, Riley got to feel smart, and he didn’t have to get into a conversation that would take many, many, many precious minutes off of his life.

Thing was, he agreed with her. On just about every point she made. So what was the point in talking about it?

“I was out at the cemetery. Don didn’t get the new section mowed earlier so he called to see if I could do it.”

“You fell off the lawnmower?” she asked, her tone indicating she had no trouble believing that he was incapable of even mowing grass.

Jesus, she was a pain in his ass. “I was helping Lucy, actually.” He smiled thinking of the other too-smart geek he’d known most of his life. Unlike Riley, her best friend Lucy was sweet and quiet, and the only time she’d ever made him feel dumb was during her Valedictorian speech, when she’d quoted people he’d never heard of and said things that went right over his head. Fortunately, 99.5% of the audience in the Sapphire Falls high school gymnasium bleachers had been in the same boat, so he hadn’t felt so bad.

But he’d realized in that moment that Lucy and Riley were out of his league. Sure, Riley got not-great grades, but he knew she was smart. Very smart. And cool and funny and beautiful. And he’d been giving her a hard time pretty much her entire life. They might have been geeks who didn’t date much and spent most of their weekends in Riley’s basement, but yeah, they were on a whole other level from Derek and the girls he hung out with.

Not that his big-brother-ish teasing had stopped that day. He and Riley had their relationship very well established by then. And, well, clearly she didn’t need him giving her pep talks or telling her she was awesome or encouraging her to go after her dreams. So, he told himself she needed him to keep her grounded.

“You were helping Lucy?” Riley repeated. “At the cemetery?”

“Yep. I’d just gotten done mowing and she was there looking at headstones for some town history thing she’s doing.”

Lucy ran the local bookstore and was in charge of the town’s archives. She also oversaw the Sapphire Falls town museum—an old house on Main that served, more or less, as a storage unit for people’s old clothes, books, photos and other “items”. Most of the stuff in there was just old, but everything supposedly had a story that tied it to the founding families. Derek wasn’t so sure about the validity of those claims, but the museum was Lucy’s headache, not his.

Except, of course, when something leaked—like a pipe or the roof—or a big heavy bookcase needed to be moved from the third story to the first. Or when a big heavy table needed to be moved from the first floor to the third. Or when big heavy boxes needed to be retrieved from, or stored in, the attic. Or when everything needed to be moved around for the haunted house.

The old house was the site of the traditional haunted house at Halloween and during the annual town festival every June. No one knew why they had a haunted house during the summer festival, but it was tradition, so they did. Which meant that twice a year, Derek was the main guy helping put it all together. And take it all down.

Of course, Lucy thought the place was actually haunted and had data on whose ghosts inhabited the oldest house in town.

Derek shook his head. Lucy was sweet and…quirky. That was really the best word for her. And she was cute. That he couldn’t deny. She’d grown from nerdy-bookworm cute into shy-librarian cute. He wasn’t sure what the exact distinction between the two was, but he was pretty sure it had something to do with her losing the baggy hoodies that hid her curves, her use of lip gloss that called attention to her very nice lips, and her increased confidence that resulted in more eye contact and smiles.

“And you ended up in the mud how?” Riley asked.

Derek focused on the pain-in-the-ass redhead in front of him instead of thinking about sweet Lucy’s lip gloss. “I slipped down an embankment over in the oldest part of the cemetery.” He looked down. A little mud never hurt anyone. “But I’m good with being dirty.”

He was shocked to see Riley blush.

For one, he wasn’t sure he’d ever seen Riley blush. For another…what had he said?

“So, anyway, did you need something?” he asked.

He stripped off his shirt and turned toward the back door. He had a duffle hanging on a hook back there that had extra clothes in it. He had extra clothes stored in a lot of places—here, his truck, his grandmother’s house, and over at Kyle’s, since Kyle lived in town, at least right now.

It seemed Derek was always in need of a clean shirt or jeans. He did odd jobs all over town and very few of them were actually scheduled. Or paid, for that matter. He never knew when he might get called to help someone change a tire, or pull out a tree stump, or dig their fishing boat out of the mud. He didn’t mind that everyone in town had his cell number and used it freely. He was easily bored, didn’t like to sit still, and loved not having a set schedule.

Of course, once the pizza ovens were finished at the Come Again and they got that business up and going, he’d be busier with work there, but hey, it was pizza. It wasn’t like he was spending his days saving lives at the hospital like his best friend Kyle, or protecting the town like his buddy Scott, one of Sapphire Falls’ cops. Derek’s specialties were pizza and beer, and that was just fine with him. He was an expert in both.

Riley still hadn’t said anything, so he turned back after he’d pulled a clean shirt from his bag.

She was staring at him as if she’d never seen him before. He frowned and yanked the T-shirt over his head. “What’s wrong with you?” he asked, pulling the shirt into place and tucking the dirty one into his bag.

She shook her head. “Nothing. I’m fine. I’m…” She seemed to be searching for words. Then she frowned, planted her hands on her hips and said, “There’s a woman out front looking for you. I thought I’d warn you.”

Riley was warning him about a woman? That was…weird. For one, Riley had never been protective of him in all the time he’d known her. For another… Nope, pretty much just that one thing. She loved when he screwed up and fell on his ass—figuratively and literally.

And “as long as he’d known her” was a really long time. He’d been there when her parents had brought her home from the hospital. He’d only been four but he remembered it distinctly. She had been crying her lungs out when they’d carried her into the house, and he’d thought “holy shit, she’s gonna be a pain”. Okay, maybe he hadn’t thought the word “shit” at that tender age, but he did remember thinking that Riley had seemed like more trouble than she was worth from the very first minute.

But he’d stuck around anyway. Because her grandmother had made a strawberry cake. And Ruby’s cakes had always been worth putting up with Riley. Thankfully. Because Riley had always been there. Kyle’s birthday parties, neighborhood gatherings, Super Bowl parties, Derek’s birthday parties. He hadn’t been able to get rid of her.

Thank God for Ruby’s cakes.

Riley’s It’s-A-Girl cake had been pink with pink frosting and one of the best things he’d ever tasted in his life. He assumed that was why he’d always associated strawberries with Riley, and why he’d called her Shortcake when they’d been growing up. It was definitely why it had amused him so much when she’d dyed her hair red when she’d turned fourteen. She’d gone from a mousy brown to a fiery look-at-me red. And the guys had definitely looked.

He was pretty sure they hadn’t stopped looking since.

It wasn’t just the red hair. She had several piercings in her ears, one in her nose, and one in her belly button. She had tattoos—gorgeous ones that ran up the entire length of one leg and showed off her creamy skin when she wore shorts or skirts, one on her shoulder that peeked out with certain tops, and one on her lower stomach that he hadn’t seen but he’d heard Peyton telling Scott about.

Riley was also gorgeous, had a trim body with big boobs, and an attitude that said “I dare you”. And all of that would have made him follow her around like a puppy if it weren’t for two very important facts.

One, he’d known her his whole life, and she was like an annoying little sister to him.

Two, she didn’t really like him.

She seemed like a rebel. She’d gone with the piercings and tattoos—using fake ones until she was old enough to get real ones—in order to get away from her big brother’s Boy Scout reputation. Kyle had huge shoes to fill, and Riley had grown tired of being “Kyle Ames’s little sister” very early on. So she’d started acting out and expressing herself…differently than Kyle had. Kyle’s straight A’s, perfectionistic, straight-laced habits were countered with Riley’s barely passing grades—in spite of her high IQ and giftedness in math and computer science—lots of swearing, and general antisocial tendencies. Kyle had been involved in everything. Riley had hung out in her parents’ basement with three computers and an online community no one else really knew about or understood.

So yeah, Riley seemed to be Derek’s type, but women who didn’t like him were definitely not his type.

“What’s she look like?” he asked of the woman supposedly looking for him.

“Well, there are two actually. A brunette and a blond.” Riley tipped her head and narrowed her eyes. “She’s basically looking for you so you can help her friend get over a breakup.”

Huh. Brunette and blond didn’t really narrow it down. “What did she say?”

“That you—” Riley faltered, blushed, coughed, then said, “Apparently you two spent the night together and she never thought about her ex again.”

Also didn’t really narrow it down, but Derek was far too distracted by Riley’s reaction to the whole thing. She was fucking blushing. Again. What the hell? And she’d dyed her hair red from brown, but she did have the pale skin of a redhead. Which made the pink staining her cheeks all the more obvious.

“Oh,” he said, searching for something to say other than “that sounds about right.”

“You don’t seem surprised.”

“About what?”

“That her heartbreak was totally healed after one night with you, and she was able to move on, happier, more confident, and feeling good about herself.”

He shrugged. “That’s kind of how it should work, right?”

“How what should work?”

“Really hot sex with someone who thinks you’re amazing.”

Her cheeks turned a darker pink, but that didn’t completely distract from her very skeptical look. “They all think you’re amazing? After knowing you only one night?”

Derek realized this was the most bizarre conversation he and Riley had ever had. “Well, as you can attest, I probably seem more amazing the less time you know me.”

But instead of agreeing with him, she frowned.

Then before she could respond, he said, “And actually, I was referring to how I make them feel.”

Her frown deepened. “What do you mean?”

He shrugged. “I want them to feel amazing.”

“Because then they’ll go and talk about you to all of their girlfriends?”

Derek shook his head. Why did she care? “Look, I’m like…Vegas,” he said.

Riley’s eyebrows went up. “You’re like Vegas?” she repeated. “What does that mean?”

“People love Vegas,” Derek said. “Vegas has the reputation of being an anything-goes, get-away-from-it all, if-it-feels-good-do-it hell of a good time, right?”

“Okay,” Riley said slowly.

“But no one wants to live there, you know? And even the people who go regularly don’t stay for long and go back to their real lives in between.”

He watched Riley process all of that.

“You understand?” he finally asked her.

She nodded, looking slightly stunned.

“And if you come home from Vegas and didn’t have a great time, and don’t feel a little better about facing your real life, and don’t smile thinking back on your time there, then you did something wrong,” he said.

Again, she nodded, with a slight frown. “So…you’re like Vegas,” she repeated again.

Satisfied that she understood, Derek nodded. “I’m like Vegas.”

Her frown deepened. “Why do you want to be like Vegas?” she asked. “That’s about as opposite from Sapphire Falls as you can get, and you love it here.”

He did. Definitely. But… “Pretty much every other guy here is Sapphire Falls,” he said.

She looked confused.

Derek sighed. “Everyone here is about family and settling down and putting down roots and being a part of this big community. Which I love,” he added. “But the women here can basically throw a rock and hit a nice guy who wants to put up a white picket fence and start having babies. And most of the women want that. And that’s great. But sometimes they just need something else. Like a quick trip to Vegas.”

Riley’s eyes widened and she said, “Dessert instead of salad.”

He frowned but decided he didn’t need to understand that. “So, anyway, I’ll go out and talk to these ladies and see if they’re up for some gambling this weekend.” He gave Riley a cocky wink that he knew would annoy her.

She frowned on cue. “It’s just the one girl who needs to get over a breakup.”

“Well, it’s not uncommon to show up in Vegas, thinking you know which game is yours and have your mind totally changed by the lights and glitter.” He had no intention of taking two women home, but again, he loved the idea of shocking Riley a little.

Her eyes narrowed. “I don’t suppose any of this has anything to do with the fact that women who have just been through a breakup are easy targets, right? Their self-esteem is low so you come along, act a little romantic, and they’ll fall for anything?”

Derek felt his own frown forming. He and Riley had always poked at each other, teased, pointed out each other’s flaws readily. But this felt more…something. More raw. More annoying. More real.

“You know, you can be a real brat sometimes.” He pulled his hand from his pocket and started toward the door.

“Where are you going?”

“Out of this kitchen,” he told her shortly.

“Hey—”

He swung back even as he knew he should just keep going. “What?”

“Do you remember Sarah Lamb?” she asked.

Derek frowned at the out-of-the-blue question. “Of course.”

“You mean, of course you remember taking her virginity. In my basement.”

Well…yeah. And he knew that Riley thought of the basement in her parents’ house as hers. It was where she’d spent nearly all of her out-of-school time. But once in a while, Kyle and his friends would commandeer the away-from-the-parents space.

And if she thought Sarah was the only girl he’d had sex with down there, she’d be very wrong.

“I do remember that,” he said hesitantly. Because he sensed there was more.

“Do you remember laughing and talking about her and my other friends two years before that?”

He shook his head. “No.”

“Sarah and Lucy and Kate were spending the night. Sarah had a huge crush on you, and Kyle told you that. Then you laughed and said, ‘What would I talk to a girl like that about if we were alone for even five minutes?’ We were upstairs in the kitchen getting drinks, and we heard you.”

Derek blew out a breath. “Shit. I’m sorry. I didn’t know that.”

“She was so embarrassed. She didn’t come over for months after that because she was afraid of seeing you, and you were always at our house.” Riley was frowning at him as if this had happened just last night.

“I’m sorry.” He shrugged. “I really am. I didn’t know she heard me. I didn’t even know she was up there.” He paused. He knew he shouldn’t go on but, he couldn’t help himself. “But seriously, Riley, what would we have talked about?”

Riley drew herself straighter. “You weren’t worried about that two years later in my basement.”

And, also knowing he should not say it, he replied easily, “Well, we weren’t talking much that night.”

Then he turned and headed back out front, done with this conversation. And done with letting Riley get to him. For now.

Because she always got to him.