Cade couldn’t believe it. There she was, the businesswoman, sitting fifteen feet away from him, shoveling fries into her mouth while pretending she hadn’t noticed him. There was a short time where he honestly thought she may have followed him to the bar, but then he noticed she’d changed into street clothes and fixed her makeup. Which meant she’d actually ended up in the same hole in the wall as him by total coincidence. Well, maybe not total. It was the closest restaurant to the motel. Perhaps she hadn’t wanted to travel too far for a quick, cheap meal.

Even so, her presence bothered him. He was torn between apologizing for his earlier comment and stuffing the rest of his burger and fries down his throat before hightailing it out of the bar. It wasn’t that he was intimidated by her in any capacity, but rather that her pretty face and familiar expressions struck a chord in Cade’s heart that he didn’t want struck. He wanted to feel again, sure, but not like this. The way her irate pout twisted in the exact same way Maddie’s had almost made him have a flashback—and he didn’t need another one of those. He’d been riding last time he had one and nearly crashed.

He downed his entire mug of beer and slammed it on the table, peeling his gaze away from the businesswoman and gluing it to the TV screen. If he concentrated hard enough on the news, maybe he could pretend she wasn’t there…

A phone buzzed.

Cade instinctively turned to find the source. And of course it was her.

The businesswoman had a piece of her cheeseburger halfway into her mouth, and had been about to chomp down on it when her smartphone, sitting on the table, blinked to life. She let out a heavy sigh when she leaned over and read the caller’s name, then sat her burger piece on her plate and swiped the phone off the table. She rolled back her shoulders and threw up a painfully fake smile, like she was about to take a video call, but she brought the phone to her ear and answered in soft tones, “Good afternoon, Mr. Potts. What can I do for you?”

Potts. A needy client, maybe?

Whatever he was, he was bad news for the businesswoman. After less than thirty seconds of the guy prattling into her ear, her happy-happy expression melted right off her face like hot wax, leaving a scowl in its wake. She spouted out a bunch of platitudes to try and placate the guy, only for him to raise his voice so loud that Cade actually caught a faint mumble over the sound of the TV. The woman rolled her eyes at the man’s antics, as if used to this behavior.

Not a client then. Her boss?

“Yes, Mr. Potts. I’ll do exactly that. I promise everything will be ready in time.” There was a faint edge to her voice now, but she was doing an admirable job of hiding the fact she absolutely loathed the man on the other end of the line. With a few more verbal head pats, she managed to get the guy to end the call, and then she all but slammed her phone onto the tabletop. He heard her murmur, “I’m going to strangle him. I swear to god.”

Cade’s attention stuck to the phone. Could that be why she wasn’t paying attention earlier? Because she was doing her boss’s bidding even while checking into a motel room? Did he call her randomly to yell at her every day? Multiple times a day? Was that the reason she was so distracted?

If so, he had a reason to feel bad for snidely quipping at her after their collision. He should’ve brushed it off instead of assuming she was just some airhead addicted to her phone. You know better than to make stupid assumptions, he berated himself.

He should apologize.

He knew that.

Rapping his fingers on the tabletop, he finished the last of his meal and flip-flopped on what to do. Walk over to the woman who reminded him of Madison and humiliate himself by admitting he was in the wrong for being a dick earlier, or run away like he usually did and barricade himself from the real world?

You’ve been a flighty bitch long enough, man, said the rational side of himself that rarely came out to play.

Before the bitter side of him could object, he slid out of the booth, walked over to the businesswoman, and sat across from her. She went rigid, a handful of fries in one hand, a crinkled napkin in the other. Her blue eyes were wide—not in a frightened way, but more like a deer in the headlights, unsure of how to proceed—and her lips were parted, like she wanted to say something but couldn’t find the words. She hadn’t expected him to make such a bold move.

He hadn’t expected himself to do it either, so her reaction was fair.

“Uh, hey,” he said awkwardly. “I just wanted to apologize for earlier.”

She broke free from her stupor and narrowed her eyes in suspicion. “Why?”

He held up his hands. “Well, I realized I was kind of an ass. You clearly didn’t mean to run into me. It was an accident. And I shouldn’t have been so rude about it.”

She furrowed her brows deeper, not sure she believed him, but something in his expression must’ve told the same truth. She leaned back and dropped her fries onto her plate. “Okay, so let’s say you are sorry about telling me to go kill myself. Then, I suppose, I am sorry for not paying attention and smearing my makeup onto your leather jacket.”

Cade glanced down at his jacket. Sure enough, there was a beige-colored smudge near his chest pocket. He hadn’t noticed that before. “Oh. I’m sure that’ll come off.”

She considered him for a moment, then reached into the purse she’d placed next to her on the cushion and pulled out a folded tissue. She offered it to him. “Here.”

“Thanks.” Cade took it from her, their fingertips brushing.

The woman quickly pulled her hand away.

Cade wasn’t sure if that meant she didn’t find him attractive or if she just didn’t want to admit she did. He wasn’t stupid. He knew he was a good-looking guy. He’d attracted a lot of attention in high school and college, but had rebuffed most of it because Maddie had been by his side since his senior year of the former, and stayed with him until the day they both graduated with their undergrad degrees. He’d never had to bother paying attention to the way women perceived him, beyond some casual flirting.

But Maddie wasn’t here now. This woman was.

This woman whose name he didn’t even know.

Do you want to go down this path again? Really? hissed the bitter voice.

Cade almost recoiled, having listened to that voice on several similar occasions over the past two years. Having pulled away every time a woman his age got anywhere close to him. But then he recalled this woman’s frustration with that Potts guy, the way she was overworked, the fact she was a lone woman in a not-so-great neighborhood in the middle of a huge city, and he steeled himself. There was no reason for him to deny himself contact with all women he found pretty, and who might find him handsome in return. He had self-control. He could choose whether to pursue a relationship, or a hookup, or a friendship, or just a passing acquaintance with someone.

His first move had been to insult this woman, and that was wrong of him. He could make up for that by being a friendly neighbor while they were staying at the same motel.

He wiped the smudge of makeup off his jacket with her tissue. “So,” he started, “I don’t think I caught your name when I caught your face with my chest.”

She almost choked on a fry. “Was…Was that a pickup line?”

Cade cringed. That line had sounded better in his head. “Can we forget I said that?”

She stifled a laugh. “Sure. If you forget I left an imprint on your jacket.”

“Consider it forgotten.”

“Awesome.” She dipped another fry into her ketchup. “So, how about a normal conversation starter? What’s your name?”

“Cade McAllister.”

“Jenna Carter,” she said in response.

“You from around here, Jenna? The LA area?”

She shook her head. “Nope. I’m from Chicago. You?”

Chicago. She’d come a long way. On a business trip?

“Miami.”

She perked up. “I’ve been there.” Her expression soured. “For like three days. And I didn’t even get to go to the beach.”

“Why not?” He gestured to her phone, catching his stride in the conversation. “Hard-ass boss?”

She pursed her lips—playfully. “Did you eavesdrop on me?”

“I didn’t have to. The whole bar could hear that guy’s whining.”

She snorted. “You think it’s bad over the phone?” She took a long draw from the straw in her soda. “You should hear it up close and personal. When he gets worked up, he starts spraying. I have to shield myself from his spittle. It’s disgusting.”

“Methinks you need a new job.” He reached over and snatched a fry from her plate.

“Hey! You eat it, you buy it.” She batted at his hand with her napkin. “And I would love to have a new job, but I don’t have qualifications, so I don’t have many options. Plus, I have a goal I have to meet. A monetary one. Once I hit it, I’ll leave for greener pastures.”

“A goal for what?” he asked, tossing the stolen fry into his mouth.

Wrong question.

Jenna clamped up as if he’d made an offensive joke and broke eye contact, casting her gaze at the wall above his head instead. “That’s, uh, well…none of your business.”

“I’m sorry,” Cade said, cursing himself for accidentally ruining the conversation. It was going so well. “You don’t have to answer. I shouldn’t pry.”

She relaxed slightly. “We can talk about other stuff. Like you. Are you new in town too?”

“Actually, yeah.” He mentally wiped the sweat off his brow. She was giving him a second chance. “Just blew in earlier today. Came in from Vegas.”

“Vegas?” she said. “I’ve never been there. What was it like?”

“A little glitzy. A little seedy. Like most famous cities.”

“Lots of drunk people gambling their life savings away?”

“You bet.”

She grimaced. “I’d be terrible in Vegas. I don’t even know how to play poker.”

“Me either. I stayed the hell away from the high-stakes stuff.”

She cocked her head to the side. “You don’t play poker?”

“Why did you think I would?”

She shrugged. “I don’t know. I guess you just…look the type? Big tough biker guy, rolling through Vegas and Los Angeles?”

Big and tough? Cade wanted to laugh at that. He was no lightweight, but he wasn’t a huge, intimidating guy with barrel-sized biceps either. Though compared to Jenna, who was petite by all measures, he supposed he could see why she’d categorize him that way. “Nah, you got it wrong. I’m not some tough guy. I’m a wanderer. A free spirit. Just going wherever the road takes me.”

“Do you do anything for work?” she asked.

He opened his mouth to reply, then realized the answer would probably alienate her. She’d admitted she was trying to save up for some lofty goal, which kept her working an awful job. And here Cade was, a trust-fund kid, slowly whittling away at his rich dad’s millions. He didn’t have a job because he didn’t need one. And right now, he didn’t want one either. Because all the jobs he was qualified for would keep him anchored in one place. And staying put meant being found by his family.

“I’m, uh, between jobs right now.”

“Oh.”

“Studied business in college though. Finance.”

“Ah. Cool.”

“What about you?”

A faint flush came over her cheeks. “Well, I…it’s just…I mean…”

“You didn’t go to college?”

She looked down at the table and bit her lip. “No.”

He shrugged. “Nothing wrong with that. Not everybody needs to go to college.”

“I wanted to though,” she said, almost too faintly to hear. “I just didn’t have the money.”

“Is that what you’re saving for?” he asked before he could stop himself.

“Not this time,” she answered cryptically.

Cade didn’t want to push her further—she was uncomfortable again—so he made to change the subject.

But he didn’t get the chance.

Because as he opened his mouth to ask his next question, the front door of the bar swung open and slammed into the wall, cracking the tinted glass panes. And in strode a group of angry, black-clad bikers, all over the age of forty, with faded tattoos and grizzled faces and gray-streaked beards, with deep wrinkles and leathery skin that spoke of hard lives, with scars that screamed of violent altercations barely survived. Leading the pack was a guy Cade recognized, solely because of the slight angle at which his broken nose sat on his face.

It was the guy Cade had punched in Jean, Nevada.

And he looked pissed.