Walking away before he could comment on that, I shook my head and groaned because I just knew that somehow, someway my dad would make a scene and instead of burying a beloved town resident, all the town would be talking about was my dad.
The good thing was they wouldn’t be talking about me.
From the moment I returned home, it seemed I was the talk of the town. Gossip came with the territory in small towns, and Rosewood was no different. I just wished they’d move on to someone else.
I wasn’t that interesting.
Sitting on the couch, I groaned, wanting this day over with. I had enough to do already, and taking time off for a funeral wasn’t on my agenda. Looking at my son, I smiled as I watched him sitting in a chair, reading one of his books as he waited patiently to get the show on the road. And when he smirked, I couldn’t help but think of his father.
The con artist.
FreddiefuckingHennessy.
Even after all these years, I couldn’t be mad at the man for how we met. He wasn’t technically the one to blame for that.
I was.
Eight years ago...
I traced the edge of my club soda with one perfectly trimmed fingernail as I slowly took in the rowdy crowd of men that just entered the hotel bar.
“What about one of them?” my friend Stasia asked, ogling several of them.
I just shook my head and looked down into my glass.
“No, they are too old.”
“Stop age-shaming, and they are not. Those men are seasoned to perfection, and I bet they taste delicious, too.”
“Stasia, I’m not even twenty. Those men are at least in their thirties. Look at them.”
“I am.” My friend sighed, placing her head in the palm of her hand as she looked on in wonderment. “Look, Josie. I’m not missingGray’s Anatomyfor nothing, so get your shit together and pick. The buffet is open. I see Mr. McCurl-My-Toes, Mr. McFuck-My-Brains-Out, Mr. McSlap-and-Tickle—Oh my fucking God, Mr. McFucking-Multiple-Orgasms is mine.”
“Can we please go home?”
“Absolutely not,” Stasia firmly said. “You made me promise that no matter what, to not let you talk yourself out of this. So suck it up, buttercup. You are losing your V-card tonight one way or another.”
I picked up my drink and took a sip when I spotted a handsome man sitting in a corner watching me through the mirror as a server placed a bottle of dark whiskey at his table, then poured him a drink.
His gaze met mine, and a wave of intense, burning lust washed over me, leaving me weak and flushed. My knuckles turned white as I gripped the glass, the chill seeping into my skin while I watched him thank the server and swiftly finish the dark whiskey, then straighten his suit. I could only stare as he approached, his presence so compelling he rendered mespeechless. He was a vision of masculine beauty, a tall and gorgeous man with handsome, chiseled features and dark hair that added to his allure.
Never taking my eyes off him, I whispered, “Stasia?”
“Yeah?”
“Get lost.”
“Huh?” she muttered, then happily grinned when she saw him walking toward me. Getting to her feet, she whispered, “Don’t forget the condom, and I want details in the morning.”
With that, my best friend left as the handsome man took the seat next to me.
“Double shot of whiskey,” the man ordered gruffly to the bartender before looking at me. “Breakup, separation or divorce?”
“Excuse me?”
“Which is it?”
“I don’t understand.”
