Chapter Three
As Jade drove through Shell Grove’s small downtown, she realized she was so not in Kansas anymore. Or DC. Or anywhere else she’d ever been. Especially when she got a glimpse of the giant banner hanging in front of City Hall that read:
2017 Shell Grove Oyster Festival
Sign Up Now!
That was certainly light-years away from the cocktail parties and galas she’d experienced growing up in a very wealthy community in Connecticut.
Shell Grove was definitely small.
But it was also quiet and…peaceful.
She instantly loved the quaint little town.
However…even the sight of the sparkling emerald ocean running parallel to her car as she traveled down Main Street couldn’t calm her anger. Not when she was on her way to visit her irresponsible contractor to give him a little—make that a big—piece of her mind.
The inconsiderate jerk.
The guy clearly didn’t understand that she needed this store. She needed it to open and to thrive. So she could make something of herself, all on her own. She wasn’t backed by her father’s prominent name down here. No one would recognize her last name in a small Southern town like this. She was embarking on this venture all by herself, building it from the ground up—just as her father had done when he was young. For the sake of her own self-esteem, this business had to be a success.
She wanted to feel worthy of being her father’s daughter. That was more important to her than anything else in the world.
Because all she had left of him was his memory, and she wanted to honor it. To make him proud.
And, well, she also had to start making some money.
Soon.
Putting everything else aside, making a living was her chief concern at the moment. That’s a little thing called reality. She’d put everything she had into the store, and it was all she had left. It had all been planned out, right down to the exact day her savings would dry up even if she was frugal with her spending.
Her contractor quitting wasn’t something she’d accounted for. And that put a major crimp in said plan.
If she didn’t have a store, that meant she didn’t have any food, or a roof over her head, or any means of survival. And no way was she crawling back to her stepmother and stepbrother, admitting they’d been right about her all along.
Because they weren’t right. She wasn’t useless. Or weak. Or talentless.
But at this point, she was desperate. If this jerkface contractor quit on her, she didn’t know what she would do. Rob a bank, maybe?
She spotted an office building with a modest sign that read Coastline Construction and pulled into one of the parking spots. Schooling herself for an epic showdown wherein she would assert herself and tell the guy what was what, she climbed from the car and walked through the door with extra pep in her step.
There was no desk or reception area at the front. Just a few chairs, a water station, and no people. She looked down the hallway, peered around a corner, but saw no one. Then a door opened, and a young guy wearing a hard hat and mud-covered boots entered the room.
“Excuse me,” she said. “Do you know where I can find Hunter Sparks?”
His eyes briefly took her in, his expression turning quizzical, and he jerked this thumb toward the room he just came out of. “Boss is in there.”
He walked off before she could ask if it was okay to go in. Once again steeling her shoulders, she made her way to the door but slowed when she heard a voice on the other side. Whoever it was, it sounded like he was on the phone.
The voice was definitely male and it was definitely deep.
It reminded her of her beautiful, perfect stranger from last night. In fact, his accent even sounded similar.
A lot of people have Southern accents down here.
But the more she listened to his muffled voice as she stood outside the door, the more it reminded her of Bob’s smooth baritone, and the way he’d growled at her as they burned up the sheets all night long.
“Shit,” he’d said in those smooth Southern tones when he first entered her. “I don’t think I’ve ever been in anything so tight. I don’t know how long I’m going to last, here.”
“I’ve got all night,” she’d whispered.
“Good,” he’d said, low and sexy. “Because I don’t think once is going to satisfy me.”
It hadn’t.
They’d done it two more times after that, each time feeling even better than the last.
And in that time, she’d discovered that plural was possible.
Of course, she’d had to bail this morning before he woke up. More out of self-preservation than to avoid an awkward encounter. She’d been afraid that, if she’d allowed herself to really take in how good he looked sleeping in that bed, she would have started imagining things. Wishing for things.
She could have stayed and gotten Bob’s number. His real name. Found out where he lived and—if he’d wanted to—arranged to see him again.
Soon.
But that was such a dangerous road to venture down.
That road led to feelings, which then turned into commitments. Commitments eventually merged into relationships. And relationships…well…
They often intersected with pain. Disappointment.
And since she didn’t want to wind up tangled in the resulting emotional wreckage—again—she couldn’t stay.
She mentally shook herself and came back to the present. She had to forget about Bob and his magical dick. Her life was in Shell Grove now, with her swimsuit shop. That was her dream.
A dream this asshat of a contractor wanted to destroy.
Not happening.
Without knocking, she pushed through the door—
And came to an abrupt halt.
The man’s back was to her, but— Those shoulders. That hair. That body.
It couldn’t be.
She had to be hallucinating.
She managed to get out, “A-are you Hunter Sparks?”
Please don’t be. Please, for the love of God, do not be—
His head whipped around, and he immediately dropped his phone.
No. Fucking. Way.
“What the— Red?”