Summer sighed and shook her head.

  Without another word, she turned and left me standing in the sawdust, alone and apparently going through the motions.

  The house was lit in a yellow glow that seeped from around the edges of the curtains like a sliver of hope. I stashed my dirt bike next to the truck and made my way slowly toward the porch carrying my peace offering.

  I’d hid out in the barn for hours after Summer left. At first, I’d done it because she’d pissed me off. That had led me to exchange my soda for a cold beer. Then, the more I thought about it, the more I realized she’d been right. So, I’d stayed and pondered the state of my life—and switched back to soda. In the end, though, I’d hid because I didn’t know what to do next.

  Or if my efforts would even matter.

  I sucked in a deep breath, squared my shoulders, and climbed the steps with heavy feet. The knob turned easily and I slipped inside to the sound of the television. Three more steps and I found Jordan sprawled on the couch, a half-empty glass of red wine on the coffee table in front of her. Our eyes met and I had to fight the insane urge to turn and run.

  Her blonde hair was piled high on her head in a messy bun. I watched as she reached for the remote and muted the sound. My eyes wandered the length of her body as she moved, lingering on the smooth stretch of never-ending legs in her tiny shorts. She was gorgeous—so far out of my league it was hilarious.

  “Hey,” I said, swinging my gaze back to hers.

  “Hey.”

  I could feel the awkward silence descending so I pressed on. “How was work?”

  “Good, the framing is on track to be up by Saturday. The lines for the HVAC should go in next week.”

  “Impressive,” I said with no idea whether it was or not.

  “Thanks. How was work for you?” she asked and I watched her glance from me to the bag I carried.

  “Spent most of it underneath a stubborn tractor so … the usual.” I attempted a smile but failed. Jordan did the same. The tension in the room was thick and nothing like the normally enjoyable kind that always seemed to zap between us like kinetic energy.

  “I got a letter today,” she said and the unexpected subject change threw me.

  “What kind of letter?”

  “More of an invitation. From my—from Sharon,” she said and a small line of displeasure formed between her eyes.

  “How did she know where you lived?”

  Summer’s mouth quirked wryly. “I suspect Helen.”

  I rolled my eyes. “Probably. What did she want?”

  “She wants me to come out to the house this weekend.”

  I waited, but she didn’t elaborate. “Will you go?”

  Jordan bit her lip and then blurted, “Will you come with me?”

  I hesitated, trying to decide whether to be pleased or worried she would ask me that after last Friday. “Are you sure that’s wise?” I asked.

  “Casey,” Jordan said, but then she stopped.

  I had no idea what that meant, but in case I’d just made things worse—I needed to make my play. I took a step forward at the same time Jordan stood.

  “We should talk—” we both said in unison.

  Jordan smiled and rounded the couch, coming to stand in front of me with hands clasped. “Me first. I’m sorry about Friday,” she said, and I had to shift my weight to keep from falling over in shock.

  I’d come here tonight fully expecting to have to battle for forgiveness. And now she was the one apologizing? God, women were confusing.

  “I’m sorry too,” I said. “I should’ve told you—”

  Jordan shook her head, cutting me off. “It wasn’t your place, and I can see why you wouldn’t want to anyway. I’ve been thinking a lot about what you said and you were right. I keep letting my pre-judgments get in the way. I’m sorry.”

  “Jordan, I get it. You have good reason to be wary, but I’m not your grandparents. Not everyone here is going to disappoint you.”

  “I know,” she said quietly, but I had a feeling she didn’t quite believe the last part. “Will you come with me this weekend?”

  “If Wayne’s there—”

  “We’ll handle it,” she assured me. I wanted to ask what that meant, exactly, since I was pretty sure I’d handled it Friday—and look how well that had gone over. But I decided to let it pass for now.

  “All right. It’s a date.”

  “And the bet…?” she asked, her cornflower-blue eyes searching mine.

  I fought the urge to wince. The fucking bet. Did she not understand I didn’t want anything to do with betting on our failure? But I knew what she was asking. If I said no now, I would be saying no to anything happening between us. And I couldn’t bring myself to do that, not now. Instead, I winked. “A deal’s a deal, sugar.”

  Jordan bit her lip on a smile. Something strange pinged in my chest.

  I held up the bag I’d brought home with me. “I bought you something,” I added and Jordan’s expression lit. She reached for the bag but I held it out of reach.

  She sniffed. “What is it?”

  I led her back to the couch and waited until she sat before I started pulling out the contents.

  “Fried chicken?” she asked, her brows lifting.

  “You have something against poultry?” I asked, kicking myself for not thinking of the possibility before.

  “Not at all,” Jordan said and I relaxed.

  I arranged the meal in front of us on the coffee table and then grabbed the movie case, stashing it out of sight before she could read the title.

  “Dinner and a movie, small town style,” I said, sliding the movie into the player. I sat next to her on the couch. “Wait,” I said before she could tear into the mashed potatoes.

  I handed her a red and white checkered cloth napkin I’d borrowed from the Staffords. Mazie, their cook, had clucked and hovered when she’d found out who it all was for. I’d never made this kind of fuss over a girl before and she knew it.

  “Southern dinner, country napkins, anything else?” Jordan asked. The movie began to play its opening credits, and I pointed at the screen. Jordan read the title and laughed. “No way. You like Nicholas Sparks movies?”

  I did my best to look wounded. “This story is one of my favorites, I’ll have you know.”

  Jordan’s laughter died off and I looked up, a bite of mac and cheese halfway to my mouth. “What is all this?” she asked.

  “Ever since you’ve arrived, and probably even before that, you’ve been shown nothing but the negative clichés of small town living,” I said. “You said yourself you want to put all those pre-judgments behind you.” I gestured to the spread before us. “What better way than to let me show you all of the fun things we have to offer?”

  Jordan didn’t answer, but something in her expression shifted. The amusement faded and the air between us charged and heated. The tension I’d come to crave once again sprang to life.

  “There is one positive I’ve already discovered,” she said slowly, setting her fork aside as she spoke.

  My heart rate jumped as she crawled across the cushions toward me. “What’s that?” I asked, but the words were hoarse.

  Jordan kept coming.

  She stopped in front of me, her lips so close I felt her breath in hot puffs against my mouth. “Small town kisses are the best I’ve had,” she whispered.

  A growl rose in my throat as I tossed my food aside and yanked her down over me. Our mouths met in a flurry of lips of tongue. I’d almost forgotten how sweet she tasted. I was instantly drunk on it. On the way her bare legs folded around me as she sank onto my lap, pressure adding inch by inch. Even through the layers of fabric, I could feel her heated center straining and pressing against my hard-on.

  “Jordan,” I groaned.

  “Don’t stop,” she whispered against my mouth.

  Her hips rolled against me. Every muscle in my body pulled taut. It was the exact thing I’d wanted to hear from her from the moment I’d laid eyes on her. “I promise I won’t.”

  My hands roamed over her hips and back and every time I tried to clear my head and pull away from her, she made a noise of pleasure that sent me spiraling again.

  I felt my way to the edge of the fabric and then peeled her shirt over her head, mouth locked on hers. I ran my hands over her silky smooth skin and felt her shudder underneath my touch. I groaned, working fast as I unclasped her bra and cast it aside.

  My palms cupped her bared breasts, thumbs grazing the tips, and I broke the kiss to dip low for a taste. Her nipple hardened against the flicks of my tongue and she moaned.

  I glanced up to find her head thrown back, eyes heavy-lidded and unfocused, hair wild around her face. Fucking A. All I wanted was to be inside her. No, I needed to be inside her. Right fucking now.

  I grabbed her hips and lifted us both to our feet. Jordan wrapped her arms around my neck, holding tight at the sudden change in position.

  “I’ve got you,” I murmured, shifting my grip on her and using my free hand to shimmy her pants off.

  “Casey, I can do that,” she said, a note of uncertainty in her voice.

  “Sshh.” I kept my grip firm but gentle. We were past the point of return now and no way was I letting her think too hard for too long. With her pants on the floor, I guided her back to the couch, this time with her body spread underneath me. “I’ve got you,” I repeated.

  Damn. I’d never meant those words more.

  I eased away long enough to shuck my own pants off and then I lowered myself over her, skin to skin. Eye to eye.

  I brushed a kiss over her cheek and then her nose until finally my mouth found hers again. She sighed and relaxed underneath me. I parted her lips and slipped my tongue inside her mouth, searching, exploring. She tasted like wild honey, a sweetness that sparked hunger. And suddenly I was starving.

  The kiss deepened. Jordan arched her neck, her lips moving faster, her tongue driving the passion between us to a burn. I found her nipple and brushed a thumb over it before squeezing it lightly between my fingers.

  Jordan responded by rolling her hips against me and my body went taut. I ground into her but it wasn’t nearly enough anymore. Not with her wet center so close. I trailed my hand down her chest and hips until I found her clit. Slow and methodical, I slipped a finger inside. Jordan moaned and pressed against me, her pussy gripping my finger as I slid inside and back out again.

  “You’re so tight,” I whispered, and Jordan’s nails dug in lightly against my back.

  “Casey, please.”

  My erection pulsed, the tip jumping where it rested against Jordan’s hip. She squeezed her eyes shut and I knew she’d felt it.

  I leaned close. “Do you want me inside you?” I asked, my pace quickening as I slid in and out of her, sending her closer to the brink.

  “Yes, God, yes.”

  I eased my finger out and brushed the tip of my cock against her opening. Jordan’s legs opened wide, inviting me, and I met her eyes. She stared up at me, her gaze hooded and impatient. It was all the convincing I needed.

  I slid inside her slowly, careful not to get ahead of myself and ruin this whole damn thing. Jordan strained against me, lifting her hips to give me better access, her arched body coaxing me farther inside.

  I pulled back and eased in again, setting a painfully slow pace. But Jordan re-focused and narrowed her eyes. “Faster,” she said, punctuating the request with a tight grab on my ass that pulled me deep inside her.

  My control slipped and all I could do was give her what she wanted. What we both wanted.

  Faster and deeper. I increased the pace and watched as Jordan’s breath turned shallow. She stared up at me through hooded lids, lips parted as she moaned between thrusts.

  Her legs shook underneath me and I knew she was close. Fuck, so was I.

  “Tell me when,” I said and Jordan’s eyes widened and sharpened on me.

  She gave a lazy half-smile and then, on a hard thrust, she arched toward me, her arms wrapping tight as she held on. “Now,” she called out. “Right now.”

  I brought my mouth down over hers. And we both let go.

  Jordan’s legs shook harder. I wrapped my arms around her, the strength of my orgasm rocking through me like a freight train. I barely heard her calling out my name as my own pulse thundered in my ears.

  I was lost, drowning in a sea of Jordan. Everyone else had been right. This was living, and I never wanted to stop.

  Chapter Four

  Jordan

  Saturday morning, I bit the tip of my thumb, shoulders hunched as I stood in the midst of the morning heat wave. In the yard before me, Casey bent over the rear tire of his pickup and I watched his back and shoulders strain with the effort of pulling the flat tire off, too worried to fully appreciate the muscles working through the thin layer of his shirt. Although, there’d been ample time to appreciate all of that last night. And without the pesky barrier of clothing, too. Casey had been … nothing like I’d expected. The sex had been spectacular—the best I’d ever had hands down—but the way he’d treated me, the soft kisses, the gentleness in the middle of the passion, had left its own mark.

  But now, in the light of new day, not even the most mind-blowing sex could cheer me up. Not with a trip to my grandparents’ looming and already, the Universe was telling me I should know better than to go out there a second time.

  Birds chirped, cicadas were already singing, and the nine AM heat was already giving my forehead a slick sheen.

  “Maybe it’s a sign,” I called just as Casey grunted.

  He rose to his feet, dusting his hands off, and sauntered toward the porch where I stood. He squinted at me in the sunshine, lips pressed together. “Sure it is,” he agreed. “A sign that rusted nails never fail to puncture rubber,” he said.

  “Sorry,” I said for the hundredth time. “I must’ve run it over last night on the way home from the job site.”

  “Yeah, well, doesn’t change the fact that this baby isn’t going anywhere.”

  “Guess we’ll just have to cancel,” I said, unable to conceal my relief at the idea.

  Casey climbed the steps and pinned me with a look. “Not so fast, slick. You already committed. I know up north that might not mean much but down here, when you say you’re going to be somewhere, you get there.”

  “It’s not like commitments mean much to them,” I pointed out.

  “You saying you want to be like them now?”

  I scowled at that, blowing my hair off my damp forehead. “Fine. But we still don’t have transportation.”

  “On the contrary.” Casey grinned. “You’re forgetting our second vehicle.”

  It took me a moment to figure out what he meant. My gaze swiveled to the dirt bike parked next to the truck. “No way. I am not getting on the back of that thing with you.”

  Casey shrugged. “I guess you can drive if you want,” he began.

  “No! I can’t drive either. I’ve never been on a motorcycle.”

  Casey’s grin was way too wide. “You can’t knock it until you try it.” He planted a quick kiss on my cheek, which distracted me long enough for him to swat my ass.

  I yelped and jumped back, not ready to admit how much I loved Casey’s teasing.

  He laughed and pointed at my shorts. “Go put some pants on. We need to leave in five if we don’t want to be late.”

  Against my better judgment, I slinked inside and headed for my room, seeking out my most worn jeans. I’d been toying with the idea of letting him take me for a dirt bike ride for days now, but showing up to my grandparents’ house on one was not how I’d pictured our second meeting. Then again, if I wanted to get it over with, and get on with fulfilling the terms of this stupid will, I didn’t have much choice. And if my arriving on a motorcycle scandalized Sharon, all the better. I grinned and changed clothes.

  When I returned to the yard, Casey was already suited up in some sort of compression suit, all black, and gloves to match. “Are we ninjas now too?”

  “Ha.” Casey held out a matching jacket and I slid my arms into the sleeves, turning to let him zip me up. He handed me a pair of gloves with hardened pads across all of the knuckles. Last, he held out a helmet.

  I hesitated, but Casey just shoved it on my head and then buckled the clasp underneath my chin. “Safety first,” he said, tapping it once before turning to the bike.

  He climbed on, leaning left and kicking down hard on the start lever. The sight of him straddled there in his whitewashed jeans and scuffed boots, the engine rumbling to life underneath him, made me hot inside all my gear. It was a heat that had nothing to do with the summer day.

  Casey sat back and gestured for me to climb on. Straddling the seat and tucked in tight against his back did nothing to ease the attraction that was fast becoming arousal as tension snaked through my gut and down into my thighs. Clearly, I’d been missing out by waiting so long to take this ride. Or any other ride—with Casey.

  “Hang on tight and lean when I lean,” he said over his shoulder.

  I called out an uncertain agreement but it was lost over the revving of the engine. We took off like a shot and I let out a squeal that made Casey’s shoulders shake with laughter.

  The gravel drive gave way quickly to pavement and I thrilled as we leaned into the right turn at the end of the road. Casey rolled on the throttle and the engine gave a throaty growl and we sped forward. The ride took over everything, drowning out all thought and worry. All of my anxiety over today’s visit fell away and I was able to forget it all. My only focus was the feel of the wind on my face and the warmth of my body pressed against Casey’s.

  I tightened my arms around his chest and inhaled deeply, appreciating the scent of grass and dirt as we wound through the back roads into Windsor.

  He didn’t slow or ease up the entire ride, barely pausing for stop signs, speeding through curves and passing slower traffic without hesitation. I’d expected to be terrified, but the exhilaration that came from the wind and the speed was intoxicating.