Chapter One – Rachel
“Congratulations,” I said, doing an awkward little shuffle before finally stepping into Kate’s arms.
I wasn’t that close with the gorgeous brunette, so I hadn’t been sure if we were there yet with the whole hugging thing. But because we currently stood in the doorway of Walker’s Brewery for her engagement party, that was probably silly.
“Thank you,” Kate replied when she stepped back. “And thank you for coming. I hope you don’t think I’m weird for insisting you come tonight, but as a new member of the staff here, you should know this place tends to turn strangers into family faster than most.”
Chuckling, I waved a hand. “Not weird at all. I’m glad to be here to celebrate you and Will.”
And even though I’d only been here for two months, I had noticed the family vibes that practically dripped from the trendy wooden beams in my new place of employment. The four Walker brothers owned Walker’s Brewery—the oldest brother being the one Kate was about to marry—and everyone who worked here seemed to be treated like they were part of the family.
Whether or not I agreed with her assessment that I was now officially part of that family, I wasn’t lying about being glad to celebrate their engagement. Will and Kate appeared to be a solid, happy couple … and for their sake, I hoped that was true.
Lord knew I was an example of appearances not meaning shit when it came to that kind of thing.
They were also a stunning pair. Like all four Walker brothers, Will was jaw-droppingly gorgeous and gave off some serious bad-boy pirate vibes with his raven black hair that he wore a little long … and had a habit of running his hands through with rakish grins aimed at his future wife.
And maybe being a chef who’d grown up in a small mountain town in Colorado shouldn’t give me pirate vibes, but the man cursed like a sailor, so here we are.
Kate, on the other hand, was the epitome of class and beauty. She’d grown up with a seriously rich—and assholish—family, so even though she’d been a single mom who waited tables at our local diner her entire adult life, it was still there in the way she moved and spoke.
Honestly, if she weren’t so down-to-earth, she’d remind me of the wealthy guests from my previous life in high-class hotel management. Being in the hospitality industry sometimes meant getting up close and personal with people who had way more money than they knew what to do with, and they always seemed to have a different sort of air about them.
But Walker’s Brewery wasn’t like the hotels I used to work at, and that was one of the things I loved most about it. The microbrewery was casual. Clean and stylish, but also the perfect sort of place for the local high school baseball team to have their team dinners or for regulars to spend six hours at the bar on a weekday night talking about the good ol’ days.
It—and the town of Granite Springs as a whole—was cozy. Warm. Friendly. The perfect place for me to escape for a little while so I could figure out the hot mess express that’d become my life.
This job and the short time I would live in this town were a detour. A chance to wait some tables, make some cash, and hopefully rediscover who I was and the reason I went into hospitality in the first place.
So tonight, I’d sit at the bar, have some of the amazing beer brewed right out back in their detached brewhouse, and celebrate a relationship I was sure had a much higher chance of success than the shitty one I’d just gotten out of.
Kate had gotten called away by some people I didn’t know, so I waved and excused myself, more than ready for that beer. But when I approached the gleaming wooden bar that stretched along the back wall, my steps faltered, and I came up short.
Crap.
Sammy Walker—the youngest, and in my completely unnecessary opinion, hottest—of the four brothers, leaned on the bar with an outrageously sexy smile on his full lips as he chatted with some customers seated before him.
Why was he working his brother’s engagement party? Shouldn’t he be mingling with their family and friends on the floor, not slinging drinks like the hired help? He was part owner. If I had the night off tonight, why didn’t he?
Okay, it wasn’t that I cared why necessarily, but if Sammy was behind the bar, that meant he’d be the one serving my drinks if I sat down. And after spending the last two months as his employee—technically—telling myself his hot-bartender swagger and disarmingly charming smile had no effect on me, I wasn’t sure I was prepared for that.
“Yay!” a high-pitched squeal reached my ears, dragging my attention away from annoyingly hot Sammy.
And it was a good thing, too, because if I’d stood there in the center of the bar staring at him like a deer in headlights any longer, someone was bound to see it and think I was a huge fool.
I turned to the end of the bar and found April Carrigan—one of Kate’s best friends, who was determined to make me the fourth member of their little bestie trio whether I liked it or not—waving me over.
Steeling myself, I returned her smile and headed that way. “Hi, April.”
She pulled me into an enthusiastic hug, her blonde hair momentarily covering my face as she rocked a little from side to side. “Girl, I am so glad you came. Here, pop a squat.”
She patted the empty barstool beside hers, and I slid onto it, cautioning a look at the man I wished to high heaven I didn’t find so damned appealing.
And shit, he was already headed this way.
“Looks like you’re ready for round two, April. And hey, Rach, what’s your pleasure?” Sammy Walker asked, setting one hand on the polished bartop in front of me.
What was my pleasure?
Delicious, adorable, completely forbidden Sammy Walker, that’s what.
Hmm.
Yeah. It was definitely time for some food to soak up that pint.
Fortunately for me, there was no risk I’d speak those thoughts aloud. I had a solid two months of ignoring Sammy’s ladykiller smile and ridiculous brand of handsome. And for a good reason, too. After what I’d been through, sliding between the sheets of this man’s bed would be the dumbest possible thing I could do.
And yet … I couldn’t deny how I felt every time we worked the same shift and I was forced to share air with the man.
I mean, seriously, he was nothing shy of delectable. Dark hair styled in that artfully messy way that made it look like he’d just rolled out of bed after pleasuring one of his many lovers for hours, a five o’clock shadow that made my fingers twitch with longing to touch his cut jaw and lips that were borderline ridiculous for a man.
But enough about all that. A beer would help banish those thoughts, right?
I dared some eye contact, and a cascade of butterflies inevitably came. But they were promptly murdered under my iron will. “I’ll take a Walker’s IPA, please.”
His eyes literally twinkled before he winked. “You got it.”
Then he whirled away, giving me a view of a truly magnificent backside. He wore jeans that rode his hips just right and the Walker’s Brewery polo that should’ve looked silly on a man who rode a motorcycle and hopped in and out of bed with anything that moved, but instead served to highlight his muscular shoulders, back, biceps, pecs … and so on, and so forth.
No need to catalog all of Sammy’s charms. Surely some other appreciative female had already done that and made millions of dollars selling it on the black market to thirsty females.
Provided it had full-color photos, of course.
“Um, earth to Rachel,” April said in a singsong voice from beside me.
I snapped my gaze to hers and winced when she giggled.
“Remember that time we asked you—”
Holding up a hand, I stopped her from finishing that sentence. “My answer is the same.”
The questions from April, Kate, and Ellie had centered around whether I’d ever get with Sammy since it was clear to anyone who’d seen us work together that he was on a mission when it came to getting with me.
But as I’d told the girls that day, the man was shit out of luck. I’d been denying his advances since approximately twenty minutes after getting hired here, and I wasn’t about to stop.
Obviously.
Even if his general animal magnetism had multiplied by a factor of ten since the last time I’d seen him a day ago. How was that even possible? Was it because I wasn’t in work mode tonight? Was it all the love in the air at tonight’s engagement party?
Whatever it was, it sucked, and I needed it to stop.
“If you say so, girlfriend,” April replied with a wolfish grin. “But you might want to let your face in on the fact that you’re not into him, based on that holy-shit-Sammy-take-me-now look you just gave his fine ass.”
I groaned internally, shooting her a glare.
Of the three women who were actively trying to welcome the new girl into their friend group, April was the most outspoken and wild. She constantly dropped sexual innuendos into normal conversation, and she seemed so damn free to be herself that I was actually pretty envious of her sometimes.
April never seemed afraid of the repercussions when it came to putting her heart out there with men, and that just wasn’t something I felt capable of anymore.
In fact, even though these women were nice and friendly and everything I’d be lucky to have in a group of girlfriends … I’d been burned in that regard too. So as much as I loved hanging with them and appreciated the invite to tonight’s event, I couldn’t help but hold back a little when we hung out. Self-preservation was a bitch sometimes, but it had its benefits. Like not setting myself up to get hurt again.
Thankfully, April changed the subject right before Sammy, the mouthwatering masterpiece of men, returned with our beers. Then not five minutes later, she got pulled away by yet another person in this crowd I didn’t know, and I found myself alone.
Alone, at the far end of the bar, sipping the tail-end of my first beer and realizing I probably should’ve ordered an appetizer with it based on the tingly feeling in my fingers and calves.
And, ya know, the fact that my ability to look at anything other than Sammy was becoming more and more difficult to manage.
“Another?” he asked as he prowled over and leaned his forearms against the bar, making us eye to eye and much too close for comfort.
My comfort, anyway.
It might have been the buzz from the beer I’d downed on an empty stomach, or maybe it was that I typically held my breath when he was this close, but I’d neglected to do that just now, and the hint of his cologne made my pulse jump.
No. Get it together, Rachel. He’s only a man. There are plenty of them, and they probably all suck as much as you-know-who did.
But since my pep talk did nothing to help me find words, I simply nodded in answer to Sammy, and I leaned back to get out of the danger zone. Then I held up a finger. “Oh, and some of the loaded tots, please. And a water.”
“Coming right up.” He turned and went to the point-of-sale system to punch in the food order, then poured my water, then grabbed a clean pint glass for my beer.
Not that I’d been watching his every move or anything.
Burnt gold cascaded from the tap, and I definitely also didn’t watch the muscles of his forearm and bicep as he gripped the handle and made a perfect pour with very little head.
Rachel. Don’t think about head.
“Here we go, gorgeous,” Sammy said as he placed the drinks before me while I was mentally telling myself this was all because it’d been way too long since I’d gotten laid.
For a good reason, of course.
“Your tots will be right up,” he said after I’d managed to thank him.
When he returned a few minutes later and slid a giant pile of tater tots smothered in cheddar cheese, bacon, green onions, and sour cream in front of me, he gave me an approving nod as he looked at the bar between us. “Excellent choices—you clearly have great taste.”
“Thank you. I’m sort of known for that,” I quipped, already a quarter of the way into my second beer.
“Yeah? You’re known for your excellent taste?” He leaned a forearm in front of me, tilting his hips back, so he was eye-level with me again.
Was this his favorite pose or something? Reserved for the many women who fell for it and then into bed with him?
Danger.
“Yep,” I said dryly.
His eyes narrowed for a second, dropped to my lips, and then he grinned. “I bet you are.”
And then, through the beer haze that was still not sopped up because I hadn’t touched my food yet, it hit me.
The man was insinuating some… insinuations.
“Um, excuse you, but we are not talking about whatever you think we’re talking about,” I croaked.
He tilted his head. “Are we not? Shame.”
I rolled my eyes and stabbed a little pile of cheese-covered tots with my fork. “No. Because if we were, I know what would happen next.”
Interest flashed in his eyes. “Yeah? Tell me. What would happen next, Rach?”
My stomach flipped, the golden-brown depths of his eyes literally sending my heart aflutter. How the hell did he do that?
“You know as well as I do,” I replied, lifting my chin.
He grinned. “Oh, I definitely think I do. I just wanna hear you spell it out, so I’m sure I’m not misunderstanding.”
I chewed my bite, brain scrambling for something snappy to say. But thanks to the slightly lowered inhibitions, I told him the truth. “You charm them. You bed them. You leave them. They exit your lair with tears in their eyes. Then, you move on.”
Okay, so maybe that was a slight misrepresentation. He lived above the bar, and the exit to his lair was plainly visible, so I’d actually witnessed a few different women’s walks of shame, and they hadn’t had tears in their eyes. In fact, oddly enough, they hadn’t looked anything but happy.
Once, he even walked a girl down and kissed her cheek, then they hugged, and he watched her leave with a little grin while she trotted out like she’d just had lunch with an old friend—complete with a side of orgasms.
I mean … What the hell?
He tilted his head from side to side. “Not quite the whole story.”
I raised a skeptical brow because despite what I’d seen, I still couldn’t believe it. “What’s the whole story, then?”
He ducked his head and leaned across the space, so he was just shy of my ear. “I pleasure them until they come, and then they come again, and they leave with tears in their eyes because there’s only so much screaming my name a girl can do before she’s crying a few happy tears.”
My jaw dropped.
Someone called his name, so he gave me a little chin nod, flames in his eyes, before he jogged over to the other person.
Who? No idea.
As far as I was concerned, the only person worth listening to was that big-talking, too-good-looking, cocky-ass bartender.
But as much as his bravado annoyed me, my thighs clenched, and heat pooled low in my belly. It’d been a long time since I’d wanted to yell anything at anyone in pleasure. Maybe never, frankly, because as much as I’d convinced myself I loved my cheating asshole of an ex, Tom, he’d never been all that great in bed.
And as much as I wanted to brush off Sammy’s big talk as bluster, I had to admit he seemed to be … well-reviewed. I’d heard a bachelorette party absolutely raving about Sammy—yes, multiple women in the same group. All congenially raving about that thing he does with his tongue. Like, what?
Had it left me curious?
Yes.
Had it made me want to roll my eyes as soon as I’d taken their orders?
Hell yes.
But had I also found myself bracing against mental images of Sammy’s tongue between my legs after that?
I was sorry to admit it but … yes.
Though, really, was I sorry? Sammy Walker made for a damn good fantasy. I’d been putting off his advances because of that whole self-preservation thing I was so fond of, but it was kind of fun to indulge in the idea of him—just a night between this supposed sex god and me.
I chewed another bite, and my eyes fluttered shut at the perfect combination of flavors. Of the tots, of course. The visceral reaction was definitely not the thought of the friendly local man-whore pleasuring me. It was simply the gloriousness of these tater tots, loaded with cheese and bacon.
I may have moaned.
“Fuck. You’re killing me.”
My eyes snapped open, surprised to find Sammy in front of me with his eyes dilated, lips parted. “What?”
He shook his head just once. “You’re gorgeous, and you’re sitting there making sounds like that….” Another head shake.
I laughed it off, but my smile didn’t fade. Some boldness in me had me taking another bite while I held his eyes, sliding my lips over the fork a little more slowly than I would’ve otherwise.
What’s gotten into me tonight?
Definitely Kate and Will’s fault, along with the beers. Their ridiculously evident sexual chemistry as they wandered around the room with his hand resting on her lower back or draped around her shoulders must have had me forgetting all my reasons for not wanting to feel a man’s hands on me.
Even if it was just my own little fantasy.
Sammy took the bait. As I chewed, his lips curved up on one side. “Why is it you won’t give me a chance?”
His blunt question was a good reminder of whatever I’d forgotten while being all sexy with my fork, and after swallowing a sip of beer, I pretended to think, tapping my chin. “Hmm. Oh, that’s right, because you’ve slept with half the population of Granite Springs?”
He shrugged. “And that’s a problem because….”
Huh. No denial. “Because I don’t want to be with someone who’s going to sneak around behind my back and get with a bunch of other women. Read that book already, thanks. It was a downer.”
He held up his hands. “Whoa, now. First, you haven’t read this book. If I’m with you, I’m with you. I’m not sneaking around. I’m a very different and very open book because I’m not after the long term.”
A short chuckle jumped out. “Well, I’m definitely not looking for long-term. And I don’t want any promises of fidelity because, in my experience, those are easily broken.”
“I’m always honest, so I’ll tell you now, I’m not offering fidelity because this wouldn’t be a relationship. Just fun. I think you’ve probably gathered that women don’t leave dissatisfied, nor do they feel like they didn’t get what they were after.”
“Shocking as it may be, I don’t spend my time interviewing your former conquests about their feelings for you.”
“Maybe not, but you have seen and heard enough to know about how they end. Happily for all.” He chuckled, and the resulting smile lit up his whole face.
Seriously, the man was like a freaking ray of sunshine. Genuinely friendly, nice, and of course, flirty with anything that moved. He’d never turned into a jerk when I brushed him off or even when I flat-out said, “not gonna happen.”
Part of the problem with Sammy was that even though I despised his whorish ways, he was likable. So damned likable that, over the last few months, I’d grown to enjoy being around him. Even with his very obvious attempts at wooing me into his bed.
And until now, I’d flatly rejected him. But something about tonight made me want to say something different this time.
“Let me make this clear,” he said, leaning closer. “If you’re with me, we’ll have fun. That’s it. And when it’s done, we move on as friends. No stress.”
“You make it sound so easy.”
And not just easy. It actually sounded … nice.
He nodded, his stupidly handsome face making my chest flutter. “I wouldn’t say it’s easy. More like good. Fun. Or, with you, I suspect fuckin’ great.”
My stomach clenched, and I felt it coming. What, exactly, I couldn’t have said, except that I knew my answer would be new.
I gulped down a drink of water, surveying my mind and making sure this wasn’t some alcohol-fueled mistake. But no. I was barely buzzed anymore, fully able to think and act the way I normally would.
So, this was me, Rachel Daily, looking at gorgeous Sammy Walker and saying, “Just once?”
He smirked but in an annoyingly appealing way. “If that’s what you want, sure. But if it goes how I think it will, we’ll need more than one time, Rach. Either way, we hang out for as long as it’s good for both of us.”
Nervous energy pulsed through me. But now that I was here, agreeing to this, I needed to make sure he knew where I stood. “Not dating. Not… anything serious.”
He leaned down on the bar again and gave me his sparkly, charmer eyes, though his lips were pulled into a grim line. “Serious? Not a chance. I prefer laughter in the bedroom.”
I nodded dumbly, though I was curious about what could be so funny. I’d never laughed in any of my previous bedroom experiences. But then again … I’d also never been with anyone who seemed to ooze lighthearted fun mixed with searing sensuality the way Sammy did.
“Nothing long-term,” I confirmed for good measure. “Just fun.”
His smile widened. “So, you’re saying yes?”
I froze, fork halfway to my mouth. “Um. Yes.”
Holy shit. I really just said that.
After months of putting him off, after more than two years of being by myself and nursing my wounds after Tom the Cheating Jackhole blew up my life, I said yes to Sammy Walker.
And now that I had? I couldn’t freaking wait.
Before I knew it, Sammy settled some stuff with the other bartender, grabbed my hand, and right in the middle of his freaking brother’s engagement party, he led me to the stairs on the other side of the room.
I knew where they went. I’d thought about what it might be like to walk up them, but now that they were underfoot, I could hardly breathe. I couldn’t believe I was here, holding this man’s hand, feeling heat sizzle through every vein before he’d even touched me anywhere but there.
But then I reminded myself: I deserved this.
I’d had a shit couple of years, I’d worked my ass off since arriving at Walker’s, and if Sammy wanted to spend his evening trying to make me scream his name—and apparently make me laugh in the process?
Well, shit. Why should I deny the man?
Or better yet … why should I deny myself?
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