Page 35 of The Bachelor

“It is. I’m just telling you how I feel. And I’m going to kiss you unless you say no.”

“Right now?” she asked, clearly caught off guard.

He nodded, slowly, giving her a chance to tell him no.

“I mean… but we… I think…” Then she swallowed visibly. “No. Not here. Not where anyone can see us.”

He was disappointed, but not surprised. “You’re smarter than me. I respect that.”

“It doesn’t mean I’m happy about it,” she said, pulling a face.

That made him laugh. “Good. I’ll see you on Monday. Unless you want to get together this weekend. Snap your fingers and I’ll be there.”

She sighed, and he remembered how fucking amazing it had felt to kiss her. “You’re not making this easy,” she murmured.

Shane gave her a slow smile. “Nothing hard about any of this, except for my cock.”

Avery glanced down at his crotch then quickly lifted her head again. “You’re terrible. And inappropriate.”

“Nothing inappropriate about the way I feel about you. But I don’t want to get you fired.” He pulled his phone out, opened his taxi app and ordered her one. “I’m ordering you a car before you lose control of yourself.” He was teasing her, but she bristled.

“You said they won’t fire me either way. And I’m not going to lose control. That’s never happening again,” she said, stubbornly.

He’d take that bet. “Whatever you say, beautiful.”

“I mean it.” Her nose was wrinkled, her words agitated.

That was all he was going to get tonight. It was enough for now. It was also enough to give her something to think about all weekend long. He knew she wouldn’t call him. That wasn’t the point. The point was to leave her aching for him the way he was aching for her.

“I hear you loud and clear,” he said. Then as her taxi pulled up and she climbed in, he added, “Just think about it. And that I’m a decent man.”

SEVENTEEN

Shane’s words were all Avery could think about. That, and that the entire future of her career was hanging in the balance of what she did next.

She very impulsively took the four-and-a half-hour bus ride to Kentucky after work on Friday. She’d had twenty-four hours to contemplate what Shane was offering and her head and heart were twisted in knots. She was nervous as hell about her song being performed and she needed to tweak it at her mama’s house, while filling up on some good cooking and reassuring hugs.

Her mother was petite, a tiny woman in jeans and a flannel shirt with an enormous purse slung over her shoulder. She had everything in there, from snacks and a lucky feather to duct tape and a knife. It had been the eighth wonder of the world to her as a child, and seeing her mother standing at the bus station at eleven o’clock at night, looking tiny and excited, that familiar handbag over her shoulder, made Avery want to cry.

“Hey, Mama,” she said, shuffling forward with nothing but her guitar on her back and her own purse. She hadn’t even packed clothes, figuring she’d wear whatever she’d left behind. It had been a snap decision.

Her mother’s smile fell off her face. “Baby, what’s wrong? Is this about Ben?”

She pulled Avery into her arms and Avery let her, even though she was four inches taller than her mother and she had to bend like a palm tree to put her head on her mother’s shoulder. “No, it’s not Ben. Mama, I did something stupid.”

“Well, let’s go home and talk about it. Nothing is so awful it can’t be fixed or forgiven. Except for murder.”

“Well, good because I haven’t killed anyone. Though I admit, I did want to punch Ben in the face a few times. I feel truly over that though. He did me a serious favor. I was holding on to a childhood relationship and I’m not sure why.”

They walked out of the bus station to her mother’s truck, Stan. It was old and noisy but her mother always joked he was the only reliable man in her life, and sadly, it was true. The drive back to her childhood home wasn’t long and while her mother chatted about local gossip Avery settled into silence and let the familiarity calm her anxiety.

When they pulled in the drive, she noticed her mother had her fall décor out, an explosion of scarecrows and pumpkins, and she grinned. The house was a tiny house, small enough that Avery had spent the majority of her youth desperately seeking an ounce of privacy from her mother. But now she wanted to hug the house. She hadn’t considered herself homesick, but she realized she had been. It was exciting as hell to be working at Rusted Truck, but at the same time it was overwhelming. She was scared to go to that meeting Monday because what if Jolene Hart thought she sucked? What if Chance Rivers took one look at her and realized she was a dead ringer for his father—which she was—and didn’t want anything to do with her. What if Shane said something inappropriate and she was let go? It was a lot to worry about and she’d rather do it here than in her shared apartment back in the city. Her roommates were nice girls but she hadn’t really had a chance to get close to them and it wasn’t fair to Lauren to fret about the meeting when Lauren was dying for the same opportunity.

Once they were inside and her guitar was off her back, her mother smiled again. “I just can’t get over that you have a meeting with Jolene Hart and Chance Rivers! I wish you could take pictures. I know you can’t because that’s not professional, but maybe you can take a quick one, without her knowing, just for your mama.”

That made her laugh. “How do you suggest I do that?”

“Pretend like you’re taking a selfie.” Her mother demonstrated posing, pursing her lips and sucking in her cheeks. “But you’re really taking a picture of her.”

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