Undone, Volume 3 (28 page)

“It’s a hard cider,
made local. It’s good. You’ll like it.” I nodded and he moved
to pull me a drink on tap.

I twiddled my fingers
together. I looked down at the polished wood of the bar. But what was
I supposed to do? I had a powerful magnet, huge and dark and brooding
just a few feet over to my right. I snuck another look.

Fuck, he was hot. He
was ready-for-his-closeup hot. And I lived in a city renown for its
hotness. I got served coffee in cafes by actors and models. I went to
parties with actors and models. Even my current not-exactly
boyfriend—more like sometimes-around friend with benefits—was a
model. All day, every day I was surrounded by men who made their
living from being hot.

This man made them all
look like little wispy wimps. He looked like he could pick them up
and pump them into the air with one hand. If he were a firefighter,
I’d burn my house down so he could come save me. His dark green
Henley shirt had just one button undone at the top, but it drew my
attention like a red flag drew a bull. I wanted to lick him, right
there, right at the top of his chest and the base of his throat. Then
I could unbutton the next one, and the one under that, then rip his
whole damn shirt off.

“Where’re you
from?” The bartender set a glass down in front of me. It was him
asking me the question, not the man I was starting to pant for a few
seats away. I needed to get a grip.

“L.A.” I took a sip
of my cider. Crisp, refreshing, delicious. “This is so good!”

“Told you.” The
bartender gave me a nod.

“What is it again?”

“Hard cider.”

I was about to ask the
calorie count, but stopped myself with the question on the tip of my
tongue. Everyone in L.A. knew the calorie count of anything and
everything you might possibly ingest. Somehow I guessed here, not so
much. Like a shy eighth-grader nearly embarrassed in class in front
of her hopeless crush, I felt a rush of heat from the blush on my
cheeks.

What was going on? This
wasn’t normal for me, not at all. I had friends who went off their
rockers, crazy over guys. I was the one who talked them down, told
them not to do anything stupid. I was queen of practical sex, career
before fluttering hearts. But right now, my perfectly manicured nails
were clutching the bar to literally Get. A. Grip. Could he tell I was
having this reaction to him?

Maybe it was the beard.
I’d seen beards before, of course. They’d made their way to L.A
where they were frequently paired with carefully styled hair,
earrings, suspenders, wingtips, all the trappings of a hipster. I
knew beards were popular, starting to show up in all kinds of ads and
on young celebrities. But the kinds of beards that had surfaced in
L.A. were tame, mild little cousins of the beard on this man.

I’d never found one
sexy until now. Holy hell, his beard. Why did it make him look even
more rugged and mysterious? Like he might drag me off to his mountain
cabin, strip me down and take me all night long.

Was there a chance he
lived in this town? My body growled MINE. But my brain fought for
space and announced, “goldmine!” Did I want real people with
major sex appeal to feature on a reality show? Had one just landed in
my lap? Or had that been me who had wanted to land in his lap?

“What’s a girl like
you doing around here?” There it was, the come on, only it wasn’t
from the man sitting a couple stools down from me. The one I was
about to start hitting on myself because a woman could only stand so
much hotness. No, it was from a guy of indeterminate age sporting a
trucker hat and a big hunting jacket. He sat down next to me.

“You’re a sight for
sore eyes!” Another one who looked pretty much the same sat on my
other side.

“Hi,” I sighed and
dug in my bag for my phone. Of course, it wasn’t the guy I wanted
to hit on me who was hitting on me. It was the guys I hadn’t even
noticed when I’d walked into the bar. Different town, same story.

On a happier note, my
phone had one bar! I checked messages and texts. Nothing from Sam. He
was probably partying the night away at hot nightclubs in Boston.
Nothing from Vincent, either, my somewhat, kind of guy at the moment.
That wasn’t a shocker, though. We had an open thing, casual. I
didn’t expect him to check in on me after a harrowing travel day.
But it would have been nice.

“You up here to ski?”
one of the guys next to me asked.

“You lost?” the
other one guessed. “We can help you out.”

“Thanks, guys. I’m
fine.” I tried to adopt an authoritative tone as I scrolled through
emails trying to find the one with the address of my rental condo. Or
the address of the place where I was supposed to pick up the key.

“You need a place to
stay?” one of them asked, taking a swig of his beer and leering at
me. He had yellow teeth, foul breath and a lecherous glint in his
eyes.

“Nope,” I answered,
wondering if I was going to have to leave the bar. I didn’t want to
head back out into the storm just yet, but I’d do it if I had to.

“Hey.” A man spoke
in a big, deep voice. I knew who it was even though I’d never heard
him speak before. I turned and my mountain man stood behind me. He
had to be 6’5”, a solid wall of brawn.

With only a mild
grumble or two, the other guys stood up from their seats. I guess
they knew the pecking order. The big guy had said “hey.” It was
time for them to leave.

I took a quick sip of
my cider as he sat down next to me, hoping the drink would help cool
my flush. No such luck. His thigh brushed up against mine, thick and
powerful as a tree trunk. He sat there, saying nothing, and took a
slow sip of his beer. No teasing smile, no compliments about my
model-quality good looks. It was not the kind of calculated
flirtation I was used to. This man simply occupied space, yet I felt
myself wanting to lean closer into his massive frame. He was built
like a solid block of granite, only warm. I could feel the heat
radiating off of him. I bet he knew how to keep a woman warm on a
cold January night.

I took another sip of
my drink and made myself sit still. No laps.

“You’re not driving
out of here tonight in that MINI convertible.” His voice sounded
low and sexy.

“What’s that?” I
licked my lips. They just did not grow men like him back in the city.
This man, he didn’t look like he’d even fit in an office cubicle.
He’d push the partition right over with his manly brawn, then grab
the nearest girl—preferably me—and haul her into an office to
have his way with her. Over and over. I knew I’d beg for more.

“I said, you’re not
driving out of here tonight in that MINI convertible.”

Wait, what was he
saying? Was he trying to boss me around? “I just need to get to my
condo.”

“It’s not safe.”
He shook his head no, done deal, no arguments accepted.

“It’s probably only
a mile away,” I huffed.

“Doesn’t matter how
far. You’re not getting there in that car.”

OK, the Neanderthal
appeal apparently had its limits. I’d taken care of myself for
years now. The only child of a busy single mom, I’d been making
myself dinner since I could press start on a microwave. I’d lived
on my own for the last seven years in L.A. I didn’t need anyone to
tell me what I could or could not do.

“What exactly do you
suggest?” I tossed my hands up in frustration. “Can I hop on my
Uber app and have a car here in two minutes?” He kept looking at
me, flat and stubborn. The man probably hadn’t even ever heard of
Uber.

“Listen,” I
continued. “I just need to get to the condo where I’m staying.
But I don’t have GPS and I wasn’t getting a signal on my phone.”
I held it up, suddenly aware that my iPhone was in a pink case
sparkling with rhinestones. The kitchy, tongue-in-cheek glam worked
in L.A. He looked at it skeptically before returning his attention to
me.

“You don’t have GPS
in your car?”

“No, I didn’t think
I’d need it.”

“You need it.”

“Well, I didn’t
know that before!”

“Cell phone service
isn’t reliable here. You could get lost.”

“Thanks. A little
late for that advice.” My feathers ruffled, I sipped my cider. Part
of me felt all tingly, the other part bristled right up. The tingle
came from the way this big, handsome man seemed so protective and
demanding about my safety. The other half shouted, “I can do this
myself!” I wasn’t a little kid. He shouldn’t treat me like one.

But I was lost and had
barely made it to the bar. He had a point. I just didn’t like
admitting it.

He looked at me,
seeming reluctant to say what he was about to next. Resigned, shaking
his head as if he overcame his better instincts to do it, he said,
“I’ll get you where you need to go.”

I swear, he didn’t
say it like a sleazy come-on, but that’s exactly how my body wanted
to interpret it. All sorts of flirty, outrageous replies popped to
mind. I came dangerously close to batting my eyelashes and bantering
back, “Oh, I bet you could get me right where I need it.”

But I didn’t. When
had I ever batted my eyelashes? I took lunch meetings. I sealed
deals. He might make me feel like a Highland lass in need of a
rescue, but I wasn’t that, not by a long shot.

I looked down at the
bar, at my cider, my nails. Anywhere but at him. And I breathed, in
and out, and forced myself to not say any of the crazy thoughts
racing through my head. Because just then where I felt like I needed
to go was nowhere near a rented condo all by myself. My pulse pounded
with need to go anywhere he was going so long as it was just him and
me alone.

“You’ll be safe
with me,” he added, deep and husky.

I bit my lip, knowing I was anything
but.

Untamed
will be released in May, and is available for preorder now:

Amazon:
http://bit.ly/CallieHarper

Nook:
http://bit.ly/NookCallieHarper

Kobo:
http://bit.ly/KoboCallieHarper

iBooks:
http://bit.ly/iBooksCallieHarper

Thank you so much for
reading!

Thank you thank you to
my family and friends for their love and support. I am so grateful
every day for each of you!

A huge thank you to
Lauren Blakely for her advice, encouragement, humor and friendship.
You blow me away with your generosity!

Jada D’Lee Designs
designed the covers for all three volumes of
Undone
.
Thank you so much for your talent. You are a pleasure to work with.

A big thank you to
helpmeedit.net for proofreading, and to Jesse Gordon for formatting
the book so well.

Thank you also to Emily
and the team at Gossip Girls PR, Kylie and the rest of the group at
Give Me Books, and Sophie at Bookalicious Babes Blog for all of their
help and support. I’m so grateful to all of the book bloggers out
there who’ve helped spread the Callie Harper word!

Thank you to all of the
fantastic, entertaining writers I adore reading.

And so much love to all
of the amazing book lovers! You make it fun to write! You make it
possible to write as an indie author, so thank you thank you! I so
appreciate each of you taking the time to read my books.

I love hearing from you
so get in touch! You can find me on Facebook at CallieHarperBooks, on
Twitter
@CallieHarperBks
,
or you can email me at
[email protected]
.
And don’t forget to sign up for my newsletter at
http://eepurl.com/bHtVnT
!