Page 1 of The Bachelor

ONE

Shane Hart never went out of the house with the sole intention of hooking up with women. It just happened to him. Like rain in Seattle or tornados in Texas. It was just his personal climate—sunny with a sixty percent chance of sex on any given day of the week. Some guys were always winning at the casino. Some guys never missed a free throw. Shane’s gift was getting women naked. It wasn’t a talent he had asked for, or even honed on purpose, but he had yet to regret it when with a few words and a grin he found himself with a gorgeous woman on top of him making like a bull rider.

So a bachelor party should have been a sure thing. Not even worth taking a bet on if anyone happened to be betting on his sex life. Which they were.

But despite having his future brother-in-law Chance Rivers’ friends egging him on all night, Shane was going to leave the party alone. There was just no fun in it when it felt intentional. That was too on-the-hunt for him tonight.

“I’m going to head out,” he said to Dane, Chance’s best friend. Chance was surrounded by a bevy of admiring female fans, who were thrilled to come out on Nashville’s famous Broadway Street and run in to one of country’s hottest stars. The group of guys had spent the majority of the night in private venues, to protect Chance from the crowd, but he had wanted to make an appearance for the fans, who had been happily watching his relationship with Jolene unfold since their reunion the year before. “You need help getting Chance out of here?”

“Nah, I got it,” Dane yelled over the loud music. “But where the hell are you going? I have a fifty riding on you winding up the meat in a blonde sandwich tonight. Do it for me and all the rest of us married guys.”

That made Shane snort. “I told you not to take that bet. I can’t play it like that. Sex has to be spontaneous. Not predatory.” Scanning the room for a potential bed partner, then casting a line and reeling her in was not his style. Making conversation and seeing if one thing led to another was. And usually, one thing always led to another. Which was naked.

“That’s the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard,” Dane said. “All hookups are predatory. On both parts. And I’m out fifty bucks to Walker.”

Shane didn’t feel the need to explain himself any further. He clapped Dane on the shoulder. “Didn’t your mama ever tell you there’s no such thing as a sure thing? Mine sure did.”

He waved to Walker and to Chance’s other buddies, Sam and Mitchell, guys Shane casually knew from the music scene in Nashville. Tootsie’s was hopping as always, and while normally Shane dug the energy of all the bars and the live music pouring out on Broadway, it was cruising towards two in the morning and he had eight hours blocked out in the studio over the next two days. He wanted a good five hours of shut-eye before he went in to work. Next weekend was Jolene and Chance’s wedding and they had family coming in all week, so between personal and professional obligations, he was booked solid. For that reason, and because Chance was over a year sober, Shane hadn’t been drinking at all—a fact that would make the crack of dawn about a thousand times more pleasant. There was something to be said for the maturity that came with being almost thirty.

Maneuvering his way through the hot, crowded room, he edged out several girls to get to Chance to make his goodbyes. “Hey, I’m taking off.” He gave Chance a quick one-armed hug. “I hope you had fun, man. And for the record, I don’t hate you marrying my sister.”

Chance grinned at him. “There’s a ringing endorsement, thanks. Seeing as I don’t have a sister, I don’t know exactly how you’re feeling but I can tell you this—all those things you do with your flavor-of-the-week hookups? It’s better when you know someone inside and out. Like I know your sister.”

Shane grimaced and made a sound of protest. “Stop. Shit, Rivers. Don’t tell me that.”

His sister’s fiancé laughed. “Someday you’ll understand what I mean when you fall head over ass. But not tonight, I imagine. Who’s the poor girl who thinks she wants to leave with you?” He looked behind Shane curiously.

Shane rolled his eyes. “You know, I don’t have sex with a different woman every night of the week. I think you all have turned me into more of a legend than I actually am. I mean, I’m good,” he couldn’t help but brag just a little bit. “But I do need sleep from time to time.”

There was a woman near them who was leaning so that her hip kept sliding along Shane’s thigh. He glanced over at her and she gave him that sultry smile, eyebrows rising in a challenge. Oh, damn. He needed to go. “See ya next week, bye.” He clapped Chance on the shoulder and bolted.

He felt a little sheepish as he walked out of the club. His sex life was too much a subject for discussion for his liking. He hadn’t fostered a reputation any more than he had sought out hookups and he wasn’t entirely comfortable with being a manwhore among his friends.

Once he was finally outside, he breathed in deeply. It was a hot July night and the city was buzzing. He loved Nashville, had since the minute their mama had moved them all there so Jolene could pursue a music career. He’d felt the limitations of his small hometown being lifted, and the pain of his father’s abuse of their mother—and his own frustration that he couldn’t stop it—finally begin to heal.

That had been ten years earlier and now Jolene was a star, and Shane was gaining respect and ground as a producer. Mama was happy in her condo, and their sister, Elle, was on the road doing hair and makeup for a big-time country diva. Everything was damn good. Shane walked down the sidewalk and whistled a cheerful tune that one of his artists was in the middle of recording. The street was noisy, though the crowds were beginning to wind down a little as bars shut down for the night. There was music and laughter, but as Shane neared the end of Broadway, he also heard shouting, the rise of anger in a young woman’s voice.

Most likely just some drunken lover’s spat, but he did glance over to see what was going on. There was a young redhead dressed in a short lace dress and pale blue cowboy boots screaming at a guy in the driver’s side of a truck as she jumped out the passenger door into the street. “You’re a lying son of a bitch,” she shouted. “And I hope that, that, that… something really bad happens to you!”

That made Shane chuckle despite her obvious upset. It seemed like Red had a hard time coming up with a suitably horrible curse, which was kind of cute. She slammed the door shut and squeezed both her hands into fists, letting out a shriek of frustration. She locked eyes with Shane. Her mouth dropped open and her nose wrinkled. But as the truck peeled away with a squeal of rubber and a revved engine, she suddenly whirled and started screaming, “Stop, stop, stop! Ben, stop, my purse is in there!”

The driver didn’t stop. She started running after the truck, and even as it disappeared into the distance, she kept flailing down the street, her gait uneven, arms waving hysterically. Shane started moving toward her. It was dark and she was going to get hit by a car doing that. The street wasn’t crazy busy, but people still were stupid enough to drink and drive, and she was clearly upset.

As the truck turned a corner and vanished, she stopped running and bent over, like she was trying to catch her breath. He reached her in a few long strides. “Hey, are you okay? Why don’t you come out of the street before you get hit.”

She looked up at him and Shane’s words got caught in his throat. Holy hell, she was like nothing he’d ever seen. There were tears dampening her pale cheeks, a dusting of freckles over her peaches and cream skin. Her nose was tiny, her lips surprisingly full, a rich raspberry color that he could tell wasn’t due to lipstick. Her cheekbones were strong, her lashes delicate, dark with tears. But it was her eyes that arrested him. They were two different colors. One a pale translucent blue, the other a rich green, veering toward hazel. It was mesmerizing to see those eyes, filled with raw, naked pain, trained directly on to him.

“No, I’m not okay,” she said. Her voice was soft, trembling. She had an accent he recognized, a sign of growing up in the country. He would guess either northern Tennessee or his own home state of Kentucky. “I left my purse in his car.”

As she stood up straight, Shane realized that he towered over her tiny frame. He wrapped his arm around her shoulder, to gently lead her to the sidewalk. At first he had thought she was high school age, but now that he’d seen her face up close, he guessed that she was more likely in her early twenties. But there was something very sweet about her that made him instantly feel protective. For all his reputation Shane considered himself respectful of women. He had disdained his father for using his strength and size against his wife, and Shane had grown up loving his mother and his sisters more than anyone on the planet, so he genuinely adored women. This woman was in more than a spot of trouble and he wasn’t about to walk away until she was in a taxi heading home or in the company of her girlfriends.

“Who is that guy, besides a lying son of a bitch?” He paused under the streetlight and looked down at her, giving her a smile so she’d know he was joking.

“He’s my boyfriend. Well, he was my boyfriend until I just found out he was cheating on me.” She gave a snort. “How stupid does he think I am? When she talks about how awesome it was to suck his ding dong, she’s not projecting. She’s talking truth.”

Shane tried not to laugh. It wasn’t funny. This girl was clearly angry and upset. But ding dong? It was hard to not at least crack a smile. “I agree with you one hundred percent. I also think there is nothing more selfish than a cheater. You can’t have your cake and eat it too.”

A scowl crossed her face and he wasn’t sure what she was thinking, or if he had upset her further, because she didn’t speak. She just looked around him to the street. Finally she said, “I need my purse. My wallet and phone are in there.”

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