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Chapter 1
Delilah
The sleek town car pulls up to the Timberline Tavern, and I step out onto the gravel, my stiletto heels instantly sinking into the uneven surface. Glancing down at my curve-hugging red dress, I can't help but feel overdressed for this rustic mountain town. City life has certainly molded me into someone who dresses for the occasion.
I stride toward the entrance below the warm glow of the tavern's neon sign. Daisy's bachelorette party is already in full swing, and I'm running late, but it’s for a good reason.
"There she is!" my little sister squeals as I enter, rushing over to envelop me in a hug. She's decked out in a sash emblazoned with 'BRIDE TO BE' and a tiara that sparkles under the dim lighting. In her hand is her phone, and I see she’s broadcasting live to her followers. Usually a hub for adventurer wannabes and thrill-seekers, her channel has become more about wedding planning in the last few months.
"You clean up nice, sis."
I laugh, giving her a playful nudge. "When’s the last time you saw me not cleaned up?"
The rest of the bridesmaids greet me with cheers and raised glasses, their flannel button-downs and distressed jeans a stark contrast to my own attire. But Daisy doesn't seem to mind—in fact, she's beaming as she links her arm through mine.
"So?" she whispers as we make our way to the bar. "How'd the interview go?"
I feign nonchalance with a casual shrug. "It was fine."
Daisy sees right through me, her eyes narrowing. "You finally ready to ditch the corporate rat race?"
It's a good question. The opportunity to join a small firm in this charming mountain town is becoming increasingly tempting, but the nagging voice in my head reminds me that I've worked too hard to throw it all away on a whim.
Before I can respond, Daisy's attention is diverted by the arrival of another round of drinks. She thrusts a glass into my hand, and just like that, the moment passes. I down the fruity concoction, letting the sweet burn of alcohol wash away my doubts—at least for tonight.
The music pulses through the tavern, and Daisy drags me onto the makeshift dance floor with all the other girls. At first, I feel out of place, unsure of the steps and self-conscious in my tight red dress. But with each sip of the fruity cocktail, my movements grow looser, more carefree.
Beads of sweat form on my brow as I try to mimic the line dancing, occasionally bumping into strangers who offer flirtatious smiles. A part of me preens under their appreciative gazes, thrilled by the attention. At one point, Daisy and I abandon the line dancing altogether and strike out across the floor in an exaggerated tango, drawing whistles and laughter from the crowd.
That's when my gaze locks with a pair of piercing green eyes on the edge of the dance floor.
He's ruggedly handsome, with tousled copper hair and a thick beard framing his chiseled jawline. Our eyes meet, and I feel an instant spark of electricity. But the spell is broken as Daisy spins me around, and I tear my eyes away, refocusing on the celebration.
Time blurs into a kaleidoscope of laughter, music, and the sweet burn of alcohol as my glass is continuously refilled with fruity concoctions. The night stretches on, and I lose myself in the revelry, worries and doubts fading into the background like distant memories.
For once, I'm not overthinking or second-guessing—I'm simply living.
Sweaty and breathless, I eventually break away from the dance floor, my feet aching in protest in my unforgiving stilettos. Daisy's too caught up in the festivities to notice as I make my way to the bar, my throat parched. Before I can flag down the bartender, a tall figure appears beside me.
It's the greed-eyed god from across the room, and he’s standing way too close to me.
Or not close enough, depending on how you look at it.
"Let me get that for you," he says in a deep, gravelly tone.
Without waiting for my response, he orders two glasses of amber liquid from the bartender.
As one is placed in front of me, I eye the drink skeptically. "How do you know I'll like it?" I'm not annoyed, exactly. More... caught off guard.
The man's lips curve into a lopsided smirk. "You seem like the type to try new things."
"You don't know me," I counter, arching a brow at him even as my cheeks flush ever so slightly.
His gaze drops briefly to my lips before holding my stare again. "Not yet."
The blatant flirtation should make me uncomfortable, but instead, it ignites a simmering heat within me that has nothing to do with the alcohol. There's something thrilling about the way he looks at me, like he can see straight through my polished exterior to the vibrant, unrestrained woman beneath that I rarely let show.
"You're quite presumptuous, stranger,” I say with a playful smile.
