“What the fuck are you doing here?”

I had given him the benefit of the doubt in the morning that maybe he wasn’t an asshole and really just needed his coffee. But he has now confirmed that he is just an asshole in general. And apparently, the guy who was going to work on my car.

“I came to find out about my car,” I state firmly trying to not let him intimidate me with his glorified assholeness.

“I didn’t realize you lived in White Creek. What car is yours?” He sets down the dirty rag and leans one of his elbows on the desk that is to the side of the garage area.

“The blue Honda civic.”

“Shit. Illinois plates?” I nod. “Well, that makes more sense on why I’ve never seen you before in my life, sweet cheeks. But, like I said, shit. You might as well just buy a new car. That fucker is gonna cost you more than it's worth.”

I groan. This could not be happening to me. “And just how much is that going to be?”

I press my lips together in a firm line and pray that it is somewhat affordable and not a, ‘I might need to sell my right kidney to pay for this’ kind of thing.

“Sixty-eight hundred.”

“What?!” I shriek. Like totally shriek, a hundred percent little kid on Christmas morning shriek, except this was not the present I wanted. And oh my god I just embarrassed myself in front of the hottest man I have ever seen. And shit my face is quickly becoming the shade of a tomato.

“Six. Eight. Zero. Zero. Do you need me to write that down for you?” he chastises. I look up at him and he’s grinning. Grinning! He practically just told me I might as well walk to Florida.

“You don’t have to be a dick. I know what you said. That’s just-“ I hesitate, worried what he would say if he knew I couldn’t afford it, “that’s a lot of money. And I don’t really have that kind of money right now.” I look away from him as I speak.

He clears his throat, “How about this, sweet cheeks? I know you ain’t from here or anywhere around here. And my guess is that you are just passing through. I can give it a temporary fix. But I don’t know if it’ll get you to where you're goin’?”

“Florida. Outside Sarasota.”

“Shit. Well, I can’t fix it enough to get you that far.”

I pull on the bottom of my shirt, rolling the edge up trying to figure out a plan. I knew it would take months for me make the kind of money to pay that off. And there was no way in hell I was going to be staying here for months. Especially for free. I was sure if I told Ivy I needed to stay for at least three months she would rescind her offer on the house. I could probably sell my computer and maybe find some jewelry to pawn but I hated to think that’s what my life was coming to.

“I take it you don’t know what to do.”

I shrug.

“Well, darlin’ I’m feeling nice today.”

I snort. If this asshole was feeling nice today, I wondered what he was like on a bad day.

“You find that funny?”

“Well, you were kind of a dick this morning.” I pause and look down at my watch. “And like five minutes ago.”

“That’s just my sparkling personality.” He smiles so big I swear the dimples in his cheeks might pop off.

“Well remind me to never get on your bad side.”

“Darlin’ I don’t have a bad side. But I’ll take you on your good side or any side.” Was he flirting with me now?

“I-I..ugh.” God Harper, pull yourself together!

He laughs, shaking his head. “I’m just messin’ with you.” I breathe a sigh of relief, although a small part of me wished he really did mean what he said. Okay, maybe a large part of me because this guy was hot. But I really did not need another man in my life or any man for that matter.

“So, about your car,” he switches the conversation to my relief. “I can do a few things to get ya on the road by tomorrow afternoon, but I can’t make any guarantee you’ll get to Florida.”

“Actually, I am going to be here for a couple weeks to make some cash to pay for the car so…”

“Well, that makes things easier. But I really think you should just dump that piece of crap and get a new one,” he says pointing his thumb at Blue Betty.

“Not in my budget, unfortunately.”

“Right, well like I said I am feeling nice. I can get your car running by tomorrow and you can save up money to fix the rest and then you can just pay for it all at once. No need to pay me anything today.”

I look at him in shock. “Are you kidding me?”

“’Course not darlin’.”

“But you don’t know me. I could just drive off and never pay you.”

“You wouldn’t get far, trust me. Plus, since you seem to be working at the diner, I reckon you’re actually telling the truth about being here a few weeks.”

“I can pay you for what you can do now. Maybe. How much to get it running?” I reach into my purse for my wallet.

His hands go up and he shakes his head. “Nonsense. Pay me later. You seem honest enough.” He walks behind the desk and files through some papers. “Now let’s just pull up the invoice for you to sign and you can be on your way.”

I am in complete disbelief. Never would anyone ever do this back home in Chicago.

We go over the paperwork and I am out the door within five minutes. I head back to the hotel to check out and grab my things and head over to the diner to meet up with Ivy.

“How bad is it?” she asks while locking the front door.

“Sixty-eight hundred.”

“Whewie,” she whistles. “That’s gonna be an awful lot of shifts here.”

“Tell me about it. Hopefully, something with my dad goes through. Or the divorce. Or I stumble upon an oil field. Or I win the lottery.”

“Well if you find an oil field, we are becoming partners.”

I laugh and follow her around the back of the building to her truck.

“So, when are you getting your car back cause it’s gonna be a bit of a walk to the diner every day.”

“Well, the guy at the shop is actually going to do enough so that it will run. He’s gonna give it to me tomorrow. He is actually letting me pay him for it all in the end. Don’t need to pay him a cent tomorrow.”

Ivy stops in her tracks. “Oh really? The guy in the shop. Hmm.” She continues walking and I hear her mumbling something.

“What the hell is that supposed to mean!?”

“Honey, Easton would never do that for anyone. Hell, I needed to fix my car once and he made me pay him before he did any work. He must like you.”

“I thought he was your friend, why would he do that?” I ask, ignoring the second comment she made.

“I did need my truck fixed because I accidentally rear-ended him, but that’s neither here nor there. Did he flirt with you?”

“Well, that makes sense why he would charge you upfront!” I walk up to the truck and continue to ignore her question. I try to open the door, but it’s locked. Turning around to face her she’s tapping her foot on the ground and staring me down, she obviously wants an answer.

“He could really use a new woman in his life. Heaven knows the last one drove him up the wall. Oh my! City girl falls for small-town hunk. Oh, I can just picture the love story now!”

I start laughing because that is clearly the opposite of my future. “Honestly Ivy, he was an asshole. He came into the diner in the morning and was a dick to me and things didn’t change much when I found out that he was the guy working on my car.”

Ivy unlocks the truck and walks over to her side to get in. “Well, he must like something about you if he isn’t charging you right away. And I should have told you that he comes in every morning to get coffee before headin’ to the shop. Sorry about that. He did have a bit of a rough night last night with the nutcase. That’s what I call Quinn, the ex. She’s nuttier than a bag of trail mix. You sure he didn’t flirt with you?”

I have trouble keeping up with this woman sometimes. Her conversations go everywhere. I just nod to her question because there is no way in hell I am egging her on.

It’s about a ten-minute drive to Ivy’s old house from the diner. It sits at the top of a tree-lined hill. From the outside, it looks like a cute little house. It has a huge yard that sprawls out into the forest to the side and behind the house. It seems pretty secluded. I can see another house a bit farther down the road but in no way intrusive on the privacy of my new temporary home.

“Here we are!” she exclaims. “I love this little old house. I put some work into it, but it could definitely use a few upgrades. I am sure it’s nothing compared to a house in the big city.”

I follow her through the front door and into the living room. I am a bit taken back by the floral tapestries and pale yellow walls. But like she said, it’s definitely not like the city. “The yard is enough to make this better than the city. You practically live on your neighbors there.”

“I would never be able to do that. I like my privacy. Well as much as you can get around the gossip. But at least out here no one can hear me and Trace getting it on.” She winks at me and I laugh. She has no idea how annoying it is to hear your neighbors fucking as loud as a jet engine.

She walks me through the rest of the house and I can just imagine all the things I could do to the place. I went to school for interior design but never was able to get a job. But it was still a hobby of mine. Maybe if I made enough cash, she wouldn’t mind if I spruced the place up a bit. It could be a form of payment for letting me stay here.

“Shit!” she yells. “We should have stopped at the grocery store and picked ya up some food. I don’t think there is anything here but crackers and maybe some peanut butter.”

“That’s fine I can survive on that for one night.”

“Nonsense. Why don’t you come over for dinner? We live on the other side of town, but I can drive you back afterward. Maybe stop at the store on the way.”

“Ivy, you have seriously done enough. I don’t need to intrude on you any more than necessary.”

Ivy throws her hands up in the air, “Oh hush girl. The kids are at Trace’s mom’s for the week. It’s like a night out. You are coming to dinner. Heaven knows you need it.”

She grabs my hand and pulls me toward the door.

Trace and Ivy live in a beautiful cabin on five acres of forested land. They have a private drive that leads up to the house. Ivy told me they have expanded it over the last few years to accommodate for their kids. It has a huge kitchen that makes me want to learn to cook and a beautiful view off the back of the house that overlooks the Appalachian Mountains and a small lake. If I ever designed a home, I would want this. I didn’t think it would fit into my city life. I laugh as I think of a beautiful mountain cabin being built next to the mansions off Sheridan Road back home. I do have to say, there is something so serene about sitting on their back porch with a glass of wine listening to the sounds of nature. I never thought it would be something I would enjoy but it is temporary, so I might as well enjoy it while I can.

Ivy and I enjoy a glass of cold white wine while Trace cooks in the kitchen. The weather cooled down a bit tonight so it’s perfect for a dinner outside. Ivy tells me Trace always kicks her out of the kitchen when he’s cooking because she always gets in the way. I know the feeling. Drew, my-ex, was the same way. Except he would get angry with me. I don’t know why I never saw some of the things he put me through. I guess I thought it was normal to fight often. God knows my parents did all the time when I was growing up. But they grew out of it. I just thought it was normal. Drew was stressed a lot from work and the long hours. I did my best to keep him happy, but it didn’t always work.

“Earth to Harper?”

I snap my head toward Ivy and realize my mind drifted off again.

“I know you don’t really want to talk about what happened to you. And I only know the bits and pieces of what happened from what Trace could decipher,” she places her hand on my arm, “but if you need to talk to anyone, you have me. I know we don’t know each other that well and it's only been a couple days, but I am a good listener. So, whenever you decide you need to talk, sugar, my ears are open.”

Tears well up in my eyes and I try to push them down. “Thanks,” I manage to whisper.

She smiles a closed lip smile and throws back the rest of the wine in her glass. “Looks like we need more wine, let me run in and get some.”

I stand before she does and offer to get it myself. I walk into the kitchen and see Trace chopping vegetables. “Hi. I just came to get us more wine.”

“I’d rather have you come in the kitchen than calamity jane out there. She would probably knock the food on the floor opening the wine.”

“I can’t say I’m much better. I burned three inches off my hair before leaning too close to the stove.”

He smiles a genuine smile at me and it makes me feel less awkward being here. “Wine’s in the fridge,” he nods toward the wood concealed door.

I realize I never apologized to him sober about my drunken behavior those two nights when I first got here. “I am so sorry about the other night. Well, both nights. I didn’t mean to embarrass you or cause any harm to your business.”

“Don’t worry about it. If you knew half the people in this town, you would see they get just as bad as you did.” I wince at the statement. “Sometimes they get worse. Brush it off. Ain’t no one talking about that anymore, Harper.”

I nod and pour two glasses of wine from the bottle I grabbed from the refrigerator. I hear a car door slam shut, followed quickly by the front door opening and closing.

“Where y’all at?” yells a man from the foyer.

“In the kitchen,” Trace answers.

I feel less guilty about feeding off Trace and Ivy since they invited more people over. I turn to take the wine outside just as Easton walks into the kitchen. So maybe more people wasn’t the correct answer, just one person. And the last person I really want to see right now.

“What are you doing here, sweet cheeks?” Easton asks me. His eyes look up and down my body like he hasn’t seen me before and I can’t help but feel a rush of heat between my thighs when he looks at me like that. Why does this man do this to me?

Trace cuts in before I can answer. “So you two have met then.”

“Well, I am fixing her car. But we haven’t been formally introduced.” His eyes bore into mine and I try hard to pull away, but his stare is magnetic.

Trace coughs and I realize we must have been staring at each other for a while. “Well, this seems only slightly awkward now. Easton Calloway this is Harper. Harper this is Easton.” He says gesturing between us.

Easton holds his hand out to me, “Well it is a pleasure to meet you outside the workplace, Miss —?”

“Lawson, I mean Evans. Harper Evans,” I answer and take his hand to shake it. And I swear the cheesiest most cliché thing happens, the spark they talk about in romance novels and love stories when two people touch for the first time, I felt it. It made me jump a little. I blame it on static electricity because shit like that does not happen in real life.

Easton puts on that panty-dropping smile he gave me earlier and my heart speeds up a bit. “Well, Miss Evans should I be happy it’s not Lawson or the other way around?”

“Cut the shit Easton,” Trace barks. “Do you really need to flirt with everything that has tits and two legs?”

I burst out laughing at Trace’s banter and feel better knowing that Easton is always a flirt. I am glad he isn’t serious because I cannot handle another man right now. Not that I am that sure I would push Easton away. I would gladly push him between my legs, but I really do not need a man in my life complicating things even more when my divorce has not been finalized yet. I need a good few years single before even contemplating being in a relationship again. Why am I even thinking about a relationship with Easton? I really need to get my shit together and just not think anything about Easton at all.

I look up and see a smirk on Easton’s face like he knew exactly what I was thinking about. He turns toward Trace. “Man, as long as she has two tits, I don’t care how many legs she has.”

“I’m not so sure you would be saying that if there was a mysterious third leg between her legs,” Trace jokes and Easton punches him in the arm. Trace pushes him off. “But Harper’s only here temporarily, man. Give it a rest.”

Easton’s smile fades as he breaks his stare, heads to the refrigerator and grabs a beer.

We end up eating dinner on the terrace, the setting sun adding the perfect lighting to our meal. I felt relaxed for the first time in months. I had forgotten what it was like to eat and talk with friends. My friends abandoned me when Drew and I separated. I was toxic to their social status. But these people around me felt like the real thing. I learned that Trace and Easton went to school together since kindergarten, played football, and broke hearts every day. Until Ivy moved to town when they were nineteen and it was sayonara to Trace’s one-night stands. Ivy looked at him with the biggest puppy dog eyes I had ever seen. I swear they sparkled when she looked at him. I could tell how much they loved each other even after ten years. It was tangible. I didn’t think love like that existed. Well, I did once. Trace leaned over to give Ivy a kiss and I looked away to allow them privacy. I notice Easton staring at me, embarrassed he saw me watch Trace and Ivy with obvious jealousy in my eyes.

I grab my glass of wine and try to clear the thoughts from my head when Ivy says, “So Easton it was sooo nice of you to fix Harper’s car for free.”

Trace’s head snaps toward Easton. Easton shakes his head. “I’m not fixing it for free.”

“Well you aren’t charging her until she has the money,” Ivy retorts. I glance toward Easton who is giving me a death stare.

“It was just a favor.” I quickly add, “And it’s just so I can drive to work. He’s not going to fix the transmission and car burner or whatever until I have money. So really it’s not anything.”

“Carburetor.” Easton laughs.

Trace looks at him with an odd expression and gets up to clear the table. “Can I talk to you, man?” He nods toward the kitchen and Easton gets up and follows him inside.

I look at Ivy who has a huge smile plastered across her face, “I guess I wasn’t supposed to know about that.”

“Is it really that big of a deal he is doing me a favor?” I ask her.

She grabs her wine glass and sloshes its contents back and forth, “Not really. I know that Trace is just looking out for him. Makes sure he doesn’t do anything stupid. But he did the same thing for his ex and we all know how that ended up.”

I nearly spit the wine out of my mouth I was drinking, “Whoa hold on one second. I have no interest in dating him. You know I am only here until I can fix my car.” She just nods with amusement on her face.

“And I’m not even divorced yet!” I yell louder than necessary, causing the conversation in the kitchen to stop. I look into the kitchen behind me and see the two guys turn around and go back to whatever they were talking about.

“Relax Harper, I wasn’t implying anything.”

I look at her, my expression turning serious. “I know we don’t know each other well, but I can tell meddling when I see it. I came from a world of manipulators.”

“I’m not trying to plot anything,” she says, grabbing my hand. “I just think you are a bit wound up and tired and maybe, even though you are only going to be here for a short time, you should forget about everything else that has happened to you.”

“How the hell am I just supposed to—?”

“I don’t mean permanently. I mean while you are here. It might help you heal. I know that more than most. And maybe I will tell you my story one day but not now. Just try, please. Try to push everything to the side and enjoy your time here.”

“You sound like my mother.”

She squeezes my hand. “Well, at least I am here and not halfway across the world thinking you should be with that asshole who needs to get his dick cut off.” I laugh, loosening the strings a bit that has been choking me. “And I think I am much more fun than your mother. You don’t even know what kind of fun you could have here. But you will.”

I squeeze her hand back. Maybe she is right. Maybe if I make the most of my time here then I will be able to heal when I return to my world. A tear threatens to roll down my cheek. I grab my hand back and wipe it away as nonchalantly as possible.

“Don’t get all sappy on me now!” she exclaims. “This calls for more wine. Too many feelings, more wine!”

I can’t help but relax. She is something else. I grab her glass and a few spare dishes from the table and head into the kitchen. I put the dishes in the dishwasher and go to grab a bottle of wine when I hear whispering from another room. I really don’t mean to pry, okay I do, but I want to know if they are talking about me after that conversation I had with Ivy.

“How is she?” Trace asks.

I hear a sigh and then, “Not good. I don’t know what to do. She won’t listen to me. And that shithead she’s with beat her up again. I can’t…” he sighs. “I can’t leave her with him, but I can’t drag her with me.”

“She’s nearly twenty years old, she doesn’t know what she wants. Shit, we didn’t know what we wanted then.”

“We thought we did,” Easton replies. I can hear him pacing. “But we weren’t slowly killing ourselves.”

“I know you don’t want to do this man, but I think you should take her. Force her to leave. She might not be around next time.”

I hear a fist slam into a wall and hope it didn’t break through the drywall. “I’m not forcing her to do shit. I tried that with Ashton and it didn’t work. I tried with Tacoma and that didn’t work. I can’t lose Rae too.”

I hear Trace sigh. “You didn’t lose either of them. Especially Tacoma. She still talks to you she’s just not here.”

“They are my responsibility,” Easton grumbles, his voice edged with anger.

“Ashton isn’t anymore, neither is Tacoma. Maybe you should-“ I hear Trace start. I quickly grab the wine and walk back outside. I was eavesdropping on something that was none of my business. And it sounded way too complicated for me to get anywhere near involved. I see Ivy has moved from the table over to the lounge chairs looking out over the serene lake. I fall down into the chair next to hers and pour her another glass of wine.

“Took you long enough. Did you get lost or were you making out with Easton?” She asks and takes a big gulp of wine.

“Stop already! It’s not happening,” I giggle. How many glasses have we had?

She sits up abruptly and faces me, spilling wine all over herself. “Ha, you totally want to make-out with him, or you would not have just giggled!”

I don’t know how to answer because I don’t know what to think. On one hand, I am completely done with men, but on the other, I wouldn’t mind giving Easton a shot, he is sexy as hell, and I am sure a few romps with him would make me feel better. Oh god, I think I have had way too much to drink if I am thinking about having sex with someone I just met who has been a flirting asshole all day.

“I think I’ve had too much to drink,” I decide. “Wait, you were supposed to drive me home!” I point at her and scream too loudly again. I hear the guys come back out onto the porch.

Ivy slurs, “I think I-I havvee drinks too many.” I roll my eyes at her because I know she is not that drunk.

Trace laughs and sits next to her, pulling the wine glass away. “Ughhh,” she moans when she can’t reach her glass from his outstretched arm. “I wassss supposseded to drive her hommee.”

“Well, darlin’ the last thing you need to be doing is driving. I don’t even think you’ll make it up the stairs.” She crosses her arms across her chest and pouts. “I’ll take her home.”

She glances at him with anger and then nods her head to Easton. Trace looks up at him and Easton interjects, “You’re already home. I’ll take her.”

Ivy lays it on thick this time, “Ohhh thanksss Easttt you are a liffee saver. I bet you tasstee like the peppermint one.” She slaps her hand over her mouth and starts to giggle.

“I’m gonna pretend you didn’t say that,” Easton says then turns to me. “Ready?”

I nod and stand up glancing down at Ivy and mouth ‘meddler.’ She shrugs her shoulder and laughs. Easton heads around the side of the house toward the drive.

Ivy jumps from her chair and stretches, “Well that went well.”

“You are so dead.”

“Have fun in his truck!”

I could choke her. Instead, I thank them for dinner. I hear Trace laughing at Ivy and saying something about being bad as I walk away. Apparently, he doesn’t care about her damn plotting either.