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CHAPTER 1

WHAT HAVE I GOTTEN MYSELF INTO?

WREN

I slip onto the empty bar stool beside the lumberjack mountain man who looks like he tried to squeeze hily broad and thick, with long dark hair that’s been pulled up into a haphazardHis beard is a hipster’s wet dream His scowl, however, makes him about as approachable as a rabid porcupine And yet, here I a up next to him

He glances atHe quickly focuses on his half-eain Based on the slump of his shoulders and the uncoordinated way he picks up his glass and tips it toward hiswater with a dash of cranberry juice and a lime

What I could really use is a cup of lavender- next to a drunk lamorous, obviously And no, I’m not an escort, but at the moment I feel like my morals are on the same kind of slippery slope

“Rough day?” I ask, nodding to the bottle that’smore than half its contents It was full when he sat down at the bar an hour ago Yes, I’ve been watching hi for an opportunity tohere, he’s turned doomen, one in a dress that could’ve doubled as a disco ball and the other in a top so low-cut, I could almost see her navel

“You could say that,” he slurs He props his cheek on his fist, eyes almost slits I can stillclosed Theya conservative black dress with a high neckline and a hem that falls below my knees Definitely not nearly as provocative as Disco Ball or Navel Lady

“That solving your problerin and tip my chin in the direction of his bottle of Johnnie

His gaze swings slowly to the bottle It gives me a chance to really look at him Or what I can see of his face under his beard, anyway

“Nah, but it helps quiet down all the noise up here” He taps his temple and blurts, “My dad died”

I put a hand on his forearenuine, half-contrived comfort “I’m so sorry”

He glances at my hand, which I quickly remove, and refocuses on his drink “I should be sorry too, but I think he was ht be better off without hiain, but his aim is off, and he pours it on the bar instead I rush to lift rab a handful of napkins to mop up the mess