Chapter 1

JOSH

Of course it had to be her.

The instant I laid eyes on Cassidy Marten’s face, two things happened. The first was my cock came to attention, twitching in my jeans. The second was that I nearly dropped my glass of very expensive whiskey onto the dirty floor of the bar.

She looked so fucking good, even after all these years. It was like some eighties comedy shit, the rest of the bar melting away and leaving only her face.

And it was a good face. Slim and sharp with cat-like blue eyes and lips that made you think about nothing but kissing them…or, maybe, other things lips could do. Features off a damn magazine cover all framed by reddish hair with a slight wave to it.

Don’t even get me started on her body. The fifteen years that had passed since high school had been good to her—very good. She’d looked good as hell back then, but there’d been a trace of teenage awkwardness. That was long gone. She was slim but curvy, her tits straining against her top and her jeans seeming painted on.

And the real killer was that she clearly wasn’t even trying. Cassidy could’ve been wearing a damn nun’s habit and still looked good enough to make me want to eat her like a snack. Hell, she’d be a full meal.

“Yo, Josh!”

Bam—eighties slo-mo and Cure soundtrack song gone, replaced by my actual surroundings. I was at The Breakaway, one of the local bars where I’d been a regular since I’d gotten my hands on a fake ID. It was Thanksgiving, and the place was packed with people looking to get away from their families for a little while, plenty of familiar faces from back in the day scattered throughout.

A few of those familiar faces were at my table—Paul Ford, Mike Hampton, and Carter Miller. They were guys I hadn’t seen for years, old pals from Gray Stone Academy, the private school where we’d all gone back when we were teenagers.

They were good guys, sure, and I was happy for the chance to catch up—after all, I rarely came home. Most holidays I’d spent in New York with my family, but this year Dad wanted to have Thanksgiving back at home. Said it’d be like the old days. Before me, Dad, and my brother, Sam, moved to the city, and our lives were totally consumed by Taylor Logging, the company Dad founded before we were born.

It was strange as hell to be home and even stranger to see the girl I’d been into all those years ago right across the bar from me. And I couldn’t take my fucking eyes off her.

That, and what looked to be some sort of ring on her finger. You know, that finger that only had “the ring” on it – an engagement ring. Wasn’t a surprise that some lucky son of a bitch snapped her up. But I’d be lying if I said it didn’t make me ten shades of jealous.

“Uh, Josh?”

This time Paul’s voice managed to snap me back into reality. I gave my head a quick shake, like I was coming out of a dream, and turned my attention to the guys. The dudes all looked like they’d been made in the same factory—all tall and well-built and square-jawed and handsome. After Gray Stone Academy they’d gone off to whatever Ivy League their connections allowed and then to their high-paying jobs.

“What’s up?” I asked, trying not to make it seem like my thoughts were somewhere else.

“You still there, man?” Mike smiled.

“Yeah,” I said. “Still here.” I sipped my drink and let the whiskey pool in my mouth before bringing it down. “Sorry—got a million miles away for a sec.”

“No kidding,” said Paul. “Gotta be all that shit that’s in the turkey. What’s it called?”

“L-tryptophan,” said Carter. “Makes you sleepy.”

“Always the brainiac,” said Paul with a grin.

“Yeah,” I said. “Gotta be that.”

It wasn’t, and I knew it. Didn’t want to admit it, but being home was fucking weird—to put it mildly. Cassidy sure as shit didn’t help matters.

“Anyway,” said Paul. “You down?”

I had no idea what they were talking about.

“’Down’?” I asked. “Down for what?”

“Fuck,” said Carter. “You really were off in space, man.”

“Booker’s,” said Mike. “We were thinking about getting out of here.”

Booker’s was another bar, one that had been a little less willing to look the other way when it came to fakes, so I wasn’t all that familiar. And I wasn’t in the mood for a change of scenery.

“Yeah?” I asked. “I dunno. Thinking I might call it a night when I’m finished up here,” holding up my drink to show that I had about half of it left.

“You serious?” asked Carter. “Gang’s all together for the first time in years, and you’re ready to call it a night already?”

Gang was all together, but hanging out with the guys had made me realize how much we’d grown apart. Back in the day I would’ve been down for the kind of night they had planned—shots, girls, whatever other wild shit we could get up to. But that kind of crap bored the hell out of me now. One-night stands were something I’d gotten tired of right about the moment I’d turned thirty.