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Chapter 1
Rona
Chicago’s O’Hare transit lounge is a place that—three days ago—I was looking forward to visiting. It was to be our honeymoon and part of our own personal transit into married life together. As I stand alone, my head bobbing back and forth, trying to decide which way to proceed as I wait for my onward flight to Jackson Hole, Wyoming, I feel lost and I’m not really sure what I’m doing here.
Nick, my fiancé, or rather ex-fiancé, told me he’s too young to get married—an hour before we were supposed to be taking our vows. He’s thirty, and it my book not exactly too young to get married.
No wedding, no marriage, but the honeymoon is still waiting for us. Well, me. That’s why I’m taking our honeymoon flight to Jackson Hole. Alone. Don’t quite know what I’m going to do when I get there, but I’m going.
Originally, a friend of Nick’s had given us his cabin for a month as a wedding present. A romantic holiday in a secluded forest isn’t really an option now, and to be honest, I want nothing to do with Nick or his friends.
Taking a few deep breaths while turning away from the departures board, I notice a coffee shop. Starbucks. Surprisingly—for a bustling airport—it isn’t too busy right now.
Smiling, I walk over to the counter and purchase a vanilla latte before finding a quiet corner to rest. Taking a few sips of my drink, I reach into my purse for my iPad to read until my flight is called. At least someone will have a happy ending.
The story pulls me in but I can’t concentrate. My skin pricks with apprehension and I have the disquieting feeling that I’m being watched. Discreetly glancing around as I reach for my coffee, my gaze locks with sparkling green eyes. Hunger flickers in their depths and I suck in my breath at the good-looking guy sitting one table over. He continues to stare as I fumble with my coffee and try to ignore him. It’s so difficult to look away, but I manage, telling myself I’m only imagining the way he’s looking at me. He can’t possibly be interested in me.
Glancing around to avoid his regard, I finally look back at him. He’s still staring at me. I decide I’m not going to be embarrassed, and return his stare. He’s really hot, and I mean hot . . . like wow. He looks to be considerably older than my twenty-four years, but I’ve always been attracted to older men. He looks older than Nick, maybe between thirty-five and forty. He sure is handsome though.
I take in a deep breath as my gaze moves over him. Starting from the tip of his tan cowboy boots, my eyes travel up his long, jeans-clad, muscular legs to his chest. By the way his tee shirt molds to his torso, he looks to have a six-pack hidden under there. He wears his dark hair longer at the back with it curling over his ears. Sexy.
I study his face. It’s a strong, handsome face, partially covered by his five o’clock shadow, which gives him a lazy look, but I doubt there is anything lazy about him. His green eyes are dazzling. A girl could get lost in them and never find her way out.
Somewhere during my ogling, I’ve lost track of what I’m doing and forgotten he’s watching me. And when my eyes return to his, the hunger visible there has turned ravenous during my exploration of his body.
Cade
On entering the coffee shop, my first thought when I spot the dark-haired girl is that she looks so sad. It takes an effort to tear my eyes away from her, but that’s accomplished when the server asks me for my order.
Grabbing myself a much-needed black coffee, I feel drawn to the girl so I take a seat at the closest empty table—one over from hers.
I watch her as I slowly drink my coffee. Her dark head down as she reads the iPad in her hands, swiping her finger across the screen. A small furrow plays on her forehead and it’s tempting to smooth those lines with my fingers. Hell. It’s tempting to smooth all her slim lines with my hands, from her long legs to her slender torso with breasts large enough to fill my palms.
What the hell am I doing?
Glancing up to make sure she hasn’t spotted me admiring her body, I find I’m unable to stop watching her. I take in her long, dark hair; it looks so soft and I wonder what it smells like. She’s wearing well-worn jeans with pale, leather boots accompanied by a long-sleeved tee shirt, no jewelry that I can see, but her hands are in her lap holding her iPad so I can’t check for rings.
I glance back up to her face where I’m met by her blue eyes. She seems embarrassed to find me looking her over and looks away quickly, pretending to be interested in her iPad again. It’s in that moment I realize how young she looks, maybe in her early twenties, which makes me cringe. I’m forty-five and old enough to be her father.
She’s stunning and I can barely control my gaze. She’s the first woman I’ve been really drawn to in close to twenty years, when my wife left our children and me.
Since then I’ve quit on relationships. Raising three kids doesn’t leave much time for anything else, even with them being fully grown now. I’ve been too set in my ways to consider a more lasting relationship, plus no woman has gotten on my radar, until now. When needs must, I have the occasional hook-up, usually when out of town, but, thinking back, it’s a heck of a long time since the last; over twelve months for sure.
I look back at where she’s sitting and discover her eyes on me. She seems to have started her own perusal of my body, starting from the tips of my boots if I’m not mistaken.
As her eyes crawl slowly up my legs, I feel myself stiffen in my jeans. Hell, I haven’t reacted like this to a woman’s look before. You’d think I’d have more control at my age.
By the time she’s moved up to my chest, she’s licking her lips. I’m not sure if she’s trying to moisten them or if she’s imagining what she wants to do to my chest. Crap. I start calculating sums in my head to calm the growing erection in my jeans, but when I look up and meet her eyes, the num
bers fly out and my erection goes straight back up again.
Groaning, I look away and try to rearrange myself without being obvious about it. It’s a long time since I’ve been with a woman, and I really don’t think it’s going to get better anytime soon. I don’t ever remember wanting anyone like this before.
“Hey, Dad. I’m just going to grab a coffee. Back in a minute.” My son, Jake, brings me right back down to earth.
I’d actually forgotten he was traveling with me. Home for good after serving his country in the Marines for the past few years, shrapnel in his hip, buttock and thigh had put an end to his career. I’d been too impatient to wait for him to arrive in Jackson Hole, so I’d met him here in Chicago. And I thank God everyday that my son has returned home still breathing.
Jake walks over to get his coffee and I watch the server blush. I roll my eyes knowing he’s laying on the charm he seems to have been born with, even though there is only one woman who has Jake’s heart—no matter what he tells me. I know my son too well to believe his comments about Elise being his past. She’s been his future since the day they met ten years ago.
After purchasing the coffee, he walks back to me. As he sets his coffee down, he spots the young woman and his attention shifts from me to her. Ignoring me, he sits watching her as he drinks his coffee.
Jealousy floods through me the longer he watches her. Shaking my head, I take a sip of my drink, finding it difficult to believe that I’m jealous of my own son. He’s maybe a few years older than her. A lot closer to her age than I am.
“Did you find what you were looking for?” I ask him, trying to refocus his attention on me instead of the woman.
Jake ignores me, still looking across the table.
I ask again, “Jake, did you find what you were looking for?”
“Oh yes, fine,” he replies, distracted. “Have you noticed the girl over there? Do you think she’s traveling with anyone?”
“I don’t think so. She was sitting on her own in here when I arrived.” I glance over to her again with an ache in my chest.
“I think I’m going to go and find out.” Jake starts to stand.
Hell no. I want to tell him to stay put; that I saw her first. But she’s too young for me. I need to keep telling myself that.
“I’ll come over and rescue her in five.” I force a grin for my son.
Watching her smile up at Jake as he pulls out a chair and drops down into it, my heart aches in my chest causing me to raise my hand and rub against it.
I haven’t even spoken to her. I’ve only been watching her for maybe twenty minutes, so my reaction to the unknown woman baffles me.
After five minutes of Jake sitting with her, I realize that I can’t let her leave without at least talking to her as well. Probably looking for punishment, because I know the sound of her voice, along with her looks, will keep me up all night for sure.
I gather my bag and jacket, grab my coffee and head over to the table to join them.
Rona
Oh God, he’s coming over!
I’ve been talking with this guy named Jake for about five minutes when the object of my earlier ogling starts toward us. He has a slow, lazy walk and he reminds me of the kind of cowboy I envision when reading a western romance novel. Dreamy!
Dreamy? What the hell is wrong with me? I’m acting like a teenager with a crush on the new boy at school.
Standing beside me, he holds his hand out, which I take. A bolt of lust shoots straight through me.
His eyes darken as he clears his throat. “Hi, I’m Cade Matthews, Jake’s father. Do you mind if I join you both? It’s a bit lonely over there.” He smiles as I reluctantly release his hand. With how slowly our hands and then fingers separate, it makes me think he’s having the same reaction as me.
