We sat face-to-face on barstools; I wedged my right knee between Connor's.

Connor Jackson had been my best friend since first grade. He slapped my thigh. "I reckon this will be lucky number three, princess."

We each picked up the small glass, tipped our heads back slightly, and downed the shot of tequila. Swallowing, I shuddered.

Ewe. The third tasted no better than the first two, but tonight was about trying to ignore the cold, hard fact. I was back home in the town my family practically owned...Lockwood Creek.

Hissing through my teeth, the alcohol burned a hole right through me. "Are you tryin' to kill me, Connor Jackson?"

"Lick and here, suck, girl." Licking the dash of salt from my hand, I took the fresh quarter of lime.

"I can't believe y'all worked in bars across the states and never done tequila shots!"

I scrunched my face as I did as he instructed. "That's me done, I'm out. Give me some sweet tea any day." I reached for the bottle of water. "That stuff should be illegal!"

"If you don't do the last one, then it's a forfeit. That's the rules princess." Connor picked up his last shot and downed in one gulp. "You're a lightweight, what have they done to you in the Big Apple?"

I pushed away the shot glass. Over the last three years I'd travelled all over our great county. However, it was New York where I seemed to fit. It was a city to get lost in and never be noticed. And I was fine going unnoticed.

I threw him a look. "I reckon we're more sophisticated in New York, sugar."

Connor snorted a laugh as I yelped, almost dislodged, from my stool. I swung my legs around to give whoever a verbal mauling, but was surprised to see a very handsome man staring down at me.

"Sorry, Christ, Sorry. Did I hurt you, sweetheart?" That was no southern accent as his gaze slid over me in an honest concern of my wellbeing. And seeing as he looked genuinely apologetic, I smiled sweetly.

"As I live and breathe, no harm done Sir." I turned back to Connor, who was grinning like a fool. "What's so funny?"

"Princess, were me and you not just looking at the same man? He was hot...phew."

I turned back, but the guy had picked up his drinks and disappeared into the crowds of people waiting to be served.

Lockwood Creek had three bars, so you can imagine, weekends were full to brimming. But still in a town of only six thousand, it didn't come close to being busy in the New York sense. Where sometimes you would queue three rows deep to get a drink.

"Should you be looking with your boyfriend, slaving not twelve feet away?" Max, his boyfriend of two years, was busy working the bar.

"I'm in love—not dead, princess. Window shopping is perfectly acceptable." He smirked. "Just no touching the merchandise." He picked up my last shot and threw it back. "So, are you gonna tell me what got you upset—or just drink yourself into oblivion?"

Oblivion was the preferred option but heading home heavily under the influence would only cause more backlash.

It had caused upset the second I stepped through the door of my childhood home. There my mama stood, arms folded, foot tapping at the bottom of her grand staircase ready to read me the riot act because I'd arrived home at four pm instead of one like I'd stated on my email.

God forbid the bus I travelled down in got a flat and we had an hour lay-by. But that was my mama all over. No ifs, buts or excuses.

You're too fat, Riley. Too stupid Riley. No man will ever marry you, Riley.

Hell, she would jump on me if I breathed too much air.

If it hadn't been for my nana Em, my daddy, sister Maddy and Connor, I would have been committed to preserve my sanity by the age of twelve... or incarcerated because I'd shot her with my great granddaddy's twelve gage shotgun.

Something had forced me home. That something, my twin sisters' upcoming nuptials!

"Same old." I pulled a face.

"Mercy Jane?"

"The one and only." Mercy Jane Lockwood, my mama. "She hates my hair, my clothes and my current job." I shrugged. "Oh, and I need to lose ten pounds in the next three weeks to make sure the dress fits." I think that summed up our first face-to-face conversation in three years.

Connor shook his head. He had witnessed first-hand my mammas trampling of my self-esteem over the years.

"Don't you dare shed a single pound Riley Jo Lockwood—you're perfect! Beautiful as you is."

No, Maddy, my twin was perfect. She was physically a younger version of my mama. To sum her up in one word—striking.

You think I'm exaggerating? No, she had cheekbones made for the camera. Lips that city folks prayed and paid for. An abundance of long, thick blonde hair and eyes as blue as every dancing night sky and thin as a rake.

Was I envious? Yes, for sure. But did it make me love her any less? Hell, no!

And thank the lord that's where the similarity to my mama stopped. Maddy had the biggest heart on the entire planet... and my mama, well, I wasn't so sure she had a heart.

"Bitch. Fuck her!" He signaled over to Max. "Another round, for my princess!"

Max strolled over, brow raised. "Same darlin'?" he asked.

I nodded a little too keenly. "Make mine a beer, Max. I'm about done with the exotic bullshit."

"Wait on. I thought you said you were sophisticated now... yeah, beer is real classy, princess." Connor tossed my words back at me. "Make mine a margarita, my boy."

I ignored him as Max offered his uneven smile. "Beer coming up, Riley."

Connor shifted his attention to me. "What did the she-devil say when you told her you were heading out with the best looking and smartest man in Lockwood?"

He wasn't wrong. Connor was stupidly attractive. All-American boy. Built like a quarterback with hair the colour of honey. Electric blue eyes and a smile as wicked as his sense of humour. He was smart too, came back home once he'd got his law degree under his belt and was well on his way to becoming a partner for a law firm in the next town over.

"The usual. She warned I'd catch your 'gayness,' and no man would ever marry me."

Connor threw his head back and laughed. "Your mother should do stand-up, she's something else!" He threw a peanut up in the air and caught it in his mouth. "Skills, ya'll." He winked at me.

I grinned, happy some things never changed. We carried on drinking as he filled me with all the gossip Lockwood Creek offered. I hadn't realized how much I'd missed him or being back home.

"You gonna tell me all about your sex in the city life? Max says he thinks you're not being honest when we video chat."

I exhaled noisily. "Believe me, if I had something to tell—you would be the first to know." Every Sunday morning, I face timed or called him.

"What was the point of leaving, if you are not gonna sample the fine menu of men our great country offers?"

"I left to put distance between me and Mercy Jane."

"So you're not hiding anything from me?"

"Nope, cross my heart."

"When was the last time a fine man slipped between those thighs?"

I grimaced. Two relationships in the last three years. Brian 'douchebag' Walker, and Mason 'help yourself' Downey.

I was introduced to Brian in Arizona and followed him to Washington, DC. I'd believed my mama when she'd said I deserved nothing better than a man would treat me like garbage—I guess she was right. But it only took that one time—he hit me.

No person deserved that, so I packed up and left his sorry ass.

Moving to LA, I met Mason, a struggling artist. Three months along, I thought it was going well. He was funny and sweet. However, one night I returned from work and he'd cleared out my apartment and disappeared with my three months emergency rent fund, only to leave behind a note thanking me for the memories.

Asshole.

Thank the Lord, Connor, Max and Maddy came to my rescue, helping me replace all my furniture.

But, that tainted LA for me and I packed up and headed to the Big Apple. I now happily lived in a tiny apartment and worked for a recording studio as a temp admin assistant. And I loved it.

"Princess, you disappoint me." He pouted.

"Tell me about it. I disappoint me."

Connor pulled me in for a hug. "Still love you, Riley. You'll always be my girl." I wrapped my arms around him.

"Pee break." Announced Connor, jumping from his stool.

As he disappeared, I looked around, letting my foot tap to the county music playing loudly. I hummed a sigh. The alcohol was definitely working its magic, and I felt relaxed, happy and so blissed out I wanted to dance. I hoped flashing my huge puppy eyes at Connor would do the trick.

Speak of the devil... "Are you ready, princess?"

I looked at him, hiccupping. "Ready for what?" Hoping he'd read my mind.

His top lip curled. "Oh yeah, you're ready." He glanced around the bar, leaving me a little confused.

"Can we dance, Connor... pleeeeease dance with me." Cue fluttering of eyelashes.

"No." His eyes dropped back to mine. "I reckon you're forgetting that little thing called a forfeit princess."

True. And if Connor was one thing, he was a stickler for sticking to the rules, especially if it meant it would amuse him. "Never let it be said I don't eat my grits or die tryin."

He shook his head and smirked. "You can take the girl out the South but not the South of the girl." He picked up his drink and took a sip. "Now, listen up. I walked past the guy who bumped you earlier." He stopped to see if I remembered.

I nodded, and he continued. "Good, now he's sat on the other end of the bar in the far corner with a grumpy-looking guy. Go over and plant a kiss on those fine lips of his."

My jaw dropped as my face heated. "Connor... no!" I shook my head adamantly. "He looked much older than us. He might think I'm crazy and call the cops on me."

"Pfft." He shook his head. "He's here on a Friday night with his friend and he looks like he could use some attention from one of Lockwoods very own princesses." He tipped my chin up with his finger, forcing my mouth shut. "If he calls anyone, it will be the fire department because you may not see it, my girl, but you're a smokin' piece of ass."

If I could have reddened any more, I'd be visible from space.

"So, c'mon city girl, show these town folks how it's done." He leant in and kissed my nose. "And think of this. If word gets back to your mama, it just might give her an aneurysm."

I snorted a laugh. He was right. I could do this.

I slid from my barstool and flicked my dull brown hair over my shoulder and brushed down my summer dress, which stopped just above my knee. I tried to ignore the inner voice, telling me just how crappy I was at approaching guys.

But I didn't have to talk. Just kiss. And honestly what trouble could I get into with just one kiss?

Connor took hold of my shoulders and twisted me, pointing my body in the direction I needed to head. "Atta' girl. Make me proud," he whispered.

Taking a deep breath and thankful enough alcohol strummed through my blood, I started weaving my way through the bar.

My stomach took flight as I saw my intended target. He had a hand on the shoulder of the man sitting next to him, who had his head down, nursing what looked like a glass of whisky.

You can do this, Riley. Could I? The nerves kicked in. Don't fuck up. I fixed a smile on my face.

I've got this. Sit and slide across the booth, kiss him and then make a hasty retreat.

As I approached the booth, the man from the bar looked up, dropping his hand from the guy still looking down at his drink. He seemed curious why I'd suddenly appeared out of nowhere, but smiled.

Then his friend looked up.

Oh. My. Sweet. Jesus.

The guy who'd bumped into me was handsome. But the other guy, the one sat next to him. I shivered and gulped as my body reacted. My nipples erected like little homing beacons.

Fuck me.

Both were older... definitely, maybe guessing around forty, or very late thirties.

But age was just a number as my old granddaddy used to say.

And as if a magnet drew my gaze, I found myself pinned by a stare. Dark, almost black eyes held mine. He was something out of one of my fantasies, that's for sure.

Very dark hair, cut short. Full lips, powerful jaw with at least a days worth of stubble. Well-defined cheekbones, and an unsmiling expression, which only made him look...

Hot. Sexy and very kissable.

My knees softened, and my stomach churned. I needed to act fast before I lost my nerve.

Sitting, I slid across the booth and stopped only when our knees touched. Leaning in, I cupped his face with my small hands, wet my lips and kissed him.

I wasn't sorry.

His mouth was as hot as his eyes and he tasted like whisky and sin. He froze, then relaxed as he made this hot little humming noise against my lips, kissing me back.

Holy Hell's fire!

Now this was a man who knew how to kiss a woman!

I spun out of control under his mouth, surrendering completely. His tongue slipped in and a static charge went straight between my thighs. The electric storm in my chest threatened to burst, and I wanted to run my fingers through his hair, over his body. I'd never felt so alive ...from a kiss.

And I felt him, breathed him all around me as our tongues danced. His maleness, if that's what you called it, bombarded me and headed both north and south. Was that pine or lemon... or both I could smell? I couldn't decide. But damn, the man tasted and smelled divine.

The kiss ended as he pulled back. I wanted to cry from the loss of his mouth on mine.

Our eyes met for the briefest of seconds, and disbelief stared back. Dropping my hands, my cheeks flammable, I slid away and stood.

Reality kicked in—a collision with the weight of a truck slammed into me.

Check. Me. Out!

I'd just kissed the hottest thing this town had to offer!

Me! Riley Jo Lockwood.

The girl who's too short, too fat, and would never be good enough, just kissed a man, whose name she didn't even know.

My body was still firing off sparks, electricity ran across my skin. I was like one of those kids' sparklers on the fourth of July, gone out of control.

I'd not made it six steps before a hand gripped my arm and twisted me around, almost toppling forward.

I peered up, and it was him... Mr. Dark, broody and amazing kisser. Looking down at me all pensive and something else I couldn't read.

"Dance with me," he asked.

Well, 'asked' was perhaps the wrong word. It was more of a command, but his voice, again not a hint of Southern but hot damn if that didn't send shivers right through me, deep and rough. I hoped to god my panties were flame resistant!

My lips parted, but it struck me mute. I nodded as his hand slipped down from my arm to find my hand.

He guided us to the dance floor. Turning his hands went to my waist and mine trailed up his firm arms. He wasn't huge, but felt so solid underneath my fingers.

Stood close, our thighs almost pressed together, my whole body was on fire and when I gazed into his dark eyes, I saw something... hunger. It was raw and intense. I almost forgot how to breathe.

Other couples danced near to us, but his attention was only on me. I felt drunk on just his nearness as his hand shifted, possessively settling on my back as he pulled us even closer.

I moved my hands instinctively higher around his neck as my breasts bumped his chest and his hand moved higher.

An awareness, need, and heat engulfed us.

Sweet Jesus. Was I dreaming?

We swayed to the music, but if you asked me what song was playing, there would have been no way on this god's green earth I could have told you. Those eyes spellbound me.

"What if I said I wanted to take you home?" His gaze swept over me and sharpened. I felt naked under his measuring eyes.

Ooh and that voice, deep and seriously enticing.

Oh. Fuck. Yes! Swallowing, I found my voice. But it didn't sound like mine. "I'd ask, what's stopping you?"

My god, did I just say that?

Yes, I did. This sexy, older man wanted to take me home. Me!

And tonight, Riley Jo Lockwood—City Girl, was in the driving seat.

I was doing this!