I followed Caden to the local bar in Brookings. It was his favorite spot because it was a dive bar with an ocean view. Caden tried to slum it up with me, but I knew he enjoyed the more decadent things in life. Flashy dinners at fancy steakhouses. Expensive bottles of wine and sophisticated women that were freaks in the sack.
Caden was the type of guy who wanted it all. He wanted the job that paid him millions and the ability to travel anywhere he wanted. He wanted to fuck all the girls he came across before finding that one he just couldn’t shake. He wanted the penthouse apartment with a beautiful woman to make it a home while she walked around barefoot and pregnant with his fourth child.
He wanted all that shit.
All I wanted, however, was to be left alone.
“A beer and a regular martini, please,” Caden said.
“I don’t know how you drink gin.”
“It tastes phenomenal,” he said.
“It tastes like pine needles. And olives are gross.”
“You’re gross. Drink your beer, and be happy I’m paying.”
“You don’t have to pay. I’ve got money of my own.”
“I’m sure you’ve got lots of it since you never spend it,” he said. “Are you still living in that falling apart cabin of yours?”
“Yep, and it’s treating me just fine,” I said.
I preferred the fucking term “rustic.”
“You know it’s way out there in the mountains where no woman would ever want to live?”
“Good thing I’m not looking for a woman to live with me, like you are,” I said.
“I don’t want a woman to live with me. But I do want to make sure I tailor my life to suit that type of lifestyle in the future. When are you going to start thinking about settling down and starting a family?”
“Never, because that’s not what I want.”
“Oh, come on. You’re quiet, but you have yourself a decent amount of experience with women. I’m sure any girl would be lucky to snag you.”
“I’m not a family man, okay?”
“You know you won’t be like your old man, right?” he asked.
“Bring him up one more time and this bottle won’t make it in the trash can in one piece.”
“Is that a threat that you’ll beat me with it?” he asked.
No shit, Sherlock. I clenched my jaw and stayed silent as I drew a deep breath through my nose.
“Don’t let your old man take that shit from you. If you don’t want a family, then don’t have one. But if your reasoning for not having a family is because you think you’ll be like him, then he’s winning.”
“Whatever,” I said.
“Another beer for my friend, please,” Caden called out to the bartender.
I took the opened beer and threw it back faster than I’d intended. The last thing I wanted to talk about was my father. That abusive fuck could stay in my past for all I cared. I didn’t need a damn thing from him, nor did I need anything in my life making him think he could wiggle his way back in. Like a wife or a child that made him think we could all be one big happy fucking family.
“You know what I think the perfect business for us would be?” Caden asked.
“What?”
“Photography.”
“I really hate you sometimes,” I said.
“Just hear me out. I’ve got a little bit of an artistic streak and you’re a nature person, right? I mean, your haunted warehouse apartment thing has a waterfront view. You gotta be a nature person to like that, right?”
“I rent the place because it’s cheap,” I said.
“And has no central air, but I digress. Photography or something like that. I could take pictures.
You could fix shit that broke. I could deal with the customers, and you could pick out the venues. It would be perfect. You wouldn’t have to interact with people, and we could split shit fifty-fifty.”
“Now you just gotta learn everything there is to know about photography,” I said.
“Did someone say photography?”
I turned my head to find where in the world that sultry voice came from. There was a woman taking a seat next to me. Her fiery red hair bobbed just at her chin. She had slim features and perfect little handfuls of tits sitting right there on her chest. She had them shoved up underneath her chin while a belt cinched her waist.
She was too skinny for my tastes, but she was looking at me like she was trying not to drool. I figured she would do, for tonight. Which was the only future I ever thought about with any woman.
“Caden Griffin. This is my friend, Zach Harte.”
“Well, Zach Harte. I was standing over there admiring your tattoos, and I couldn’t help but overhear your conversation.”
“You a photographer?” I asked.
“I am. It’s a side gig.”
“What do you do for a living?” Caden asked.
“I’m a teacher,” she said.
“If I had a teacher that looked like you growing up, I would’ve been in trouble,” I said, just to lay my flirting on really thick.
Her giggle was low and rich. Like hot caramel being poured over a freshly-baked cake.
“What does this tattoo represent?” she asked.
Her fingertips were soft on my skin, and I knew she’d be the woman to keep me company tonight.
Well, for the majority of the night anyway.
“It’s a phoenix rising from its ashes,” I said. “I got it just after I graduated high school.”
“Ah, signaling a new beginning in life,” she said. “And what about this one?”
I walked her through the tattoos on my arms one by one. The strokes of her fingertips became longer and more languid, and soon, her whole hand was wrapped around my forearm. She had deep, dark brown eyes that were pulling me in, and I could see her lips dancing from my eyes to my lips.
I slammed down more of my alcohol and the more I drank, the better looking she became. I leaned in close and gave her a grin, waiting for her to close the gap between the two of us.
If she did, she was mine.
And her lips felt wonderfully soft against mine.
“Wanna get out of here?” I asked. “My cabin is near the waterfall. There’s a little hike to get there so we should go before dark.”
“Oh, what a beautiful view that must be,” she said. “I’d love to… take it in.”
My cock jumped at her words as I helped her slide off her stool.
She would be decent company for a majority of the night, but she’d be gone before the morning sun rose. No company I kept at night like this ever stayed overnight. Women read way too much into things and got the wrong impression that way.
If I kicked her out in the middle of the night, she knew she was a one-night stand. I didn’t have to be rude about it, but I did have to be stern sometimes. If women stayed until the morning, they got ideas about making breakfast, and soon, they were showing up at random points, asking me if I was free, and it just became a complicated mess.
Yep. This woman, whose name I wouldn’t remember, would do just fine for some company.
Until one in the morning, at least.