Page 4 of The Bachelor

It was hard to think straight. She was tired, she was upset, angry, and heartbroken. Then there was Shane, looking very much a man, not youthful like Ben. A seriously good looking man. The kind of good looking that had her doing double-takes. He was tall, lean but muscular, wearing a maroon-colored T-shirt with a white eagle on it. He had on an expensive watch that flashed gold as he raised his arm to hold the door to the coffee shop open for her. It gave her a clear view of his bicep, rock solid, and a glimpse of a tattoo under the shirt sleeve. He had a narrow face with dark eyes, short brown hair, and a wicked, charming smile.

Growing up in a small town where everyone knew everyone, she’d seen her fair share of guys who thought they were all that. But this guy? He really was. He was all that and then some. It was terrifying.

But given her current circumstances, her experiences with sexy Prince Charmings—or lack thereof—was irrelevant. Her options sucked and she believed Shane when he said it was unlikely the cops could help her out, if she could even find one. Without any phone or money, she was stuck with Shane until she could sort out a plan, so the last thing in the world she needed to be doing was rising to the bait of his dancing comment.

Another of her flaws? Blurting things out without thinking them through first.

“Yes, sex,” he said. “Though if I’m trying to convince you I don’t have ulterior motives, I guess I shouldn’t be talking about sex.”

He turned and held up two fingers for the hostess who just said, “Sit anywhere you like, folks.”

“How about this table?” Shane said, gesturing to the one right up alongside the window by the sidewalk.

Avery didn’t care if they sat on the floor. She just needed to put her bucket on any bale and try to clean up this disaster. “That’s fine, thank you. And thank you for stopping,” she said, remembering her manners about ten minutes too late. Had she said thank you already? She wasn’t really sure because when Ben drove off, all she had been able to think was that she had never been angrier or more frustrated in her whole damn life.

“Even if you are just an opportunist serial killer,” she added. It probably wasn’t necessary, but she wanted him to know that just because she had been stupid enough to trust Ben, that didn’t make her stupid enough to trust a total stranger.

Shane held out a chair for Avery to sit. “No problem. We’ll get you home safe and I can give myself a pat on the back for being a decent human being.”

“Where were you tonight? Out with friends?” She sat down and strived to be polite, even though she was distracted. Her elbow hurt. She had banged it during her sudden exit out of Ben’s truck. Ben. That jerk. To think she’d put on a new dress for him, believing they had a big romantic night ahead of them.

He nodded. “Bachelor party.”

“You seem pretty sober for a bachelor party.” She hadn’t been in Nashville long, but it had been enough time to see that Music City had become the Sin City of the mountain state. There were drunken bachelor—and bachelorette—parties stumbling up and down Broadway every weekend. Avery adjusted the hem of her dress. Lord, this thing was short. She didn’t know how other women managed to function normally in minidresses. She was definitely more a jeans and T-shirt girl, or if the occasion required something more, a long skirt and denim jacket.

“The groom doesn’t drink, so it didn’t seem right to tie one on.” He ordered two coffees from the waitress. “Just black for me, cream and sugar for the lady.” He gave her a smile. “You look like cream and sugar.”

Avery stiffened. Was he flirting? “I take it black,” she said stiffly. That was a lie, but she felt the need to be contrary, though she wasn’t sure why. She fingered the sticky menu, her leg bouncing up and down. She wanted to trust the man sitting across from her, but she had trusted Ben and look where that had gotten her. Abandoned on Broadway at two o’clock in the morning after too many wasted years.

He shrugged, but the waitress was gone. “Sorry, that was presumptuous of me. You don’t have to add it if you don’t want to. So, how long did you say you’ve been in Nashville?”

“Just a few weeks.” She had arrived hopeful, happy. Now she was left doubting everything. Was she really so unlovable and unattractive that Ben felt the need to have more than one woman on the side?

“You in school?”

“No.” School hadn’t been her strong suit. “I’m here for the music.” Also, to find answers about her father, but not even Ben knew about that, thank goodness. That was her secret. Hers and Mama’s.

Shane sat back, unfurling his long legs out to the side. “Ah, yes, the music. I guess that’s what brings most people to Nashville in one way or another these days.”

“What brought you here?” He didn’t look small town to her at all, but sophisticated, confident. The cool guy everyone wants to hang out with.

“My mother. We moved here when I was twenty. Along with my two sisters.”

“Did your mother take a new job or something?”

He shook his head. “No.” He didn’t elaborate and he looked a little guarded, like the question had made him uncomfortable.

It piqued her curiosity, but she didn’t figure it was her right to press. That he’d grown up around women was oddly reassuring. Maybe that was why he was taking the time to help her sorry ass. “You seem to have shaken off your accent a bit.” He sounded decidedly city boy.

“It took some effort but I managed. I’ve been here almost ten years.”

Lord, he was old. Nearly thirty. Not that thirty was old, but she was only twenty-four and she considered herself an unintentionally young twenty-four. Part of it was the virginity thing, she knew. But until coming here, she hadn’t fully experienced life, and it made her feel…well, young. Or, as her mother would say, you weren’t truly an adult until you filed your own taxes, paid your rent, and had a man inside you. That was a direct quote. So far, she’d only managed to pay taxes.

She wanted to cry again, this time not from anger, but from homesickness. She missed her mother. How pathetic was that? She had come to Nashville to grow up, start her life, become a woman, and hopefully a songwriter, but here she was lost in the middle of the night, wanting her mother to save her. She drew a shuddery breath and focused on Shane. If she just concentrated on him, maybe she could ground herself, keep it together.

Murmuring her thanks to the waitress for pouring her coffee, she absently wrapped her hand around the mug, but didn’t take a sip. She cupped the mug until it made her flesh too hot, then removed it. “So you’ve found your place here, then. I hope someday I feel that way.”

“How long have you been with Ben?” he asked, lifting his own mug and taking a long swallow.

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