Chapter One

Shane

I only saw the love of my life once a year.

Something about Rae made a man stupid.

I was seventeen when Rachelle Taylor walked into my parents' bed and breakfast in a Gucci t-shirt wearing a look of profound boredom. Her dark honey hair shimmered in the waning sunlight streaming through the front windows, her skin the definition of peaches and cream. She looked around my age.

I would soon learn she was sixteen.

Our bed and breakfast sat outside town and her family was the only one booked with a kid, so she had no one to entertain her but me. At first, she didn't want anything to do with me. Granted, I'd just been gardening in July heat, so I didn't make the best impression.

But when I went swimming in the pond out back after my shift, I felt eyes on me.

Hers.

Hazel green and not hiding her admiration for my abs.

Being your typical red-blooded American teenage boy, I returned to the back porch to chat her up. My towel was draped on a deck chair, so it was a good excuse. "Water's nice. We don't have anything in there that bites."

She tipped her delicate chin up. "Don't drip on me."

I wrapped the towel around my shorts and sat on the glider. "What are you doing out here? Supper's almost served."

She picked at a cuticle. "My parents are fighting in their suite. I could hear it through my wall."

Something about her made me think this wasn't uncommon. "Sorry."

Her eyes snapped to mine. "I wasn't looking for your pity."

"Whoa." Showed my hands. "No offense. Only meant that has to suck on vacation."

An aggravated sigh. "I don't even know what we're doing here."

"Well, I can show you around if you're allowed to leave." I offered my hand. "I'm—"

"Shane!" my mother's voice called.

The girl took my hand and shook it in a businesslike way. "Rachelle."

"I gotta get inside."

I'd hurried into the kitchen to find Mom, then ran upstairs to shower and change. When school was in session, I worked the supper shift, but that reversed for summer and my nights were my own. Since breakfast service started at 7:00AM, I worked until 3:00 on weekdays. Weekends were the most commonly-booked in any hotel, but my parents wanted me to be a kid until I wasn't, so I got Saturdays and Sundays free unless my help was required.

But I didn't mind. I loved Blue Star Valley. Our valley was beautiful, the town took care of itself, and the mountains were our playground.

The B&B attracted nature lovers.

Normally, I would've headed into town to meet up with friends, but tonight I lingered. Rachelle and her parents came to eat in nicer clothes, her in a sundress. First guests I ever remembered changing for dinner that weren't muddy. I'd picked up on them having money—was that common for rich folk? We didn't get too many here, at least not ones that made it obvious. Rachelle's mom looked like she'd be more comfortable in a country club sipping martinis than a hiking village, but the reservation was in her name.

Made me curious about what brought them here and why.

Annie, our cook, gave me plates to serve a couple of our regulars, the Lopez family.

The dining room had five tables with four chairs each, the fifth table in the center, like a dice pattern. The tables were set for supper with white linens and the fancier silver. Candleholders shaped like hurricane lamps stood as centerpieces.

Mom never wanted the B&B to look too country.

Rachelle's family sat at the center table, so I could sneak easy glimpses as I moved in and out. She looked like she wanted to be anywhere but here, eyes never on either of her parents unless they talked directly to her.

Mr. and Mrs. Taylor didn't look like a happy couple. My parents constantly smiled at each other, kissed, and touched. They disagreed but never argued. I never found Dad sleeping on the couch. The Taylors were going through the motions, but they were too stiff. Too polite. I would've picked up on it even if Rachelle hadn't said they'd been fighting, but it was dead obvious now.

I wished I had a good excuse to draw her away from that tension.

Finally, she finished her plate, the little she'd ordered, and asked, "May I be excused?"

Her mother said, "You may," without looking at her.

Rachelle wasted no time in escaping the dining room.

I followed.

She rounded the corner but stayed in the hallway under the stairs, heading for the back of the house. And escaping outside. She ran all the way to the little boathouse at the end of the short pier where the rowboats and kayaks were stored.

I heard her harsh breathing before I caught up with her. "You okay, Rachelle?" I asked at the entrance.

"Leave me alone."

"I'm heading into town. Wanna come?" Please don't be crying.

She moved toward the entrance, closer to the moonlight. Her pretty face was dry. "Yes. How do you blow off steam around here?"

"Come on." I led her to my grandfather's late'60s F-100.

"You expect me to ride in that?"

"If you want to get away from your parents, yeah." I opened the passenger door.

With a sigh only a teenage girl can give, she climbed in. The truck didn't look like much, but the seats were intact and it ran. Dad started teaching me how to maintain it when I turned fourteen and I was allowed to drive as long as it wasn't snowing.

Or pouring buckets.

The V-8 sprung to life. I quietly rolled us out to the road before switching on the headlights.

"Just know, if you crash us, I'll sue." She sat with her arms crossed over her chest.

"I've had my license for a year."

"And?"

"Relax, princess. I'm not crashing my grandfather's truck."

"Don't call me that."

"Okay."

Took fifteen minutes to enter town.

Anything that wasn't a grocery store or restaurant closed at sundown, so I pulled up to the Centennial Diner, named after the state slogan. Blue Star Valley wasn't big enough for any chain fast food spots, so this was the teen hangout.

Parked, then hurried around to open Rachelle's door, a treatment she was clearly used to since she hadn't budged. Did her life at home include riding in limos?

I offered my hand to help her down.

"Thank you."

"I was raised a gentleman, Big City Girl." Opened the diner door, too.

I nodded to a couple guys from the high school and guided her to an empty booth. The red vinyl creaked under our butts. '90s Country played on the sound system.

Maisie came over with a couple of dessert menus. "Hey, kids, can I get ya a couple of sodas?"

"Do you carry Perrier?" Rachelle asked.

"Just tap water, honey."

"Fine…I'll have a Diet Coke."

"Root beer, please."

"Let me know when you're ready to order." Maisie walked away.

"Look, I know you'd rather be at home, but my town has nothing to do with your parents' issues, so could you tone down the derision and be maybe a tad more polite while we're here?"

Rachelle's brows rose, then she slumped in the booth. "Fine," she mumbled.

"Thanks."

Maisie returned with the glasses. "Know what you want?"

"Blackberry pie for me, please."

Rachelle muttered, "A strawberry milkshake."

"Comin' right up!"

"That's a pretty dress, by the way," I said once we were alone.

"Thank you," she replied with no derision. Progress.

"Where are you from?"

She sat up a little taller. "L.A."

"Really?"

"Well, in the hills above it."

"Like Beverly Hills?"

A tiny shrug. "Close enough."

"What's it like?"

"Here we are!" Maisie arrived with the desserts. "One blackberry pie a la mode and one strawberry milkshake. Enjoy." She placed the bill on the table and I snagged it.

Dad always said, you take a lady somewhere, you pay, and besides, Rachelle left without a purse. She focused on her milkshake now, eyes darting everywhere but me.

"Booked for three weeks, huh?"

"Yes."

"Independence Day is coming up. Blue Star Valley has a festival down Main Street, and fireworks." Main Street was the oldest part of town. It was founded with that single row and expanded from the center of the valley over the years. "How do you celebrate back home?"

She stirred her straw in the ice cream. "We don't."

"Seriously?"

She sighed. "This is the first summer we've been Stateside in years. I should be working on my tan on the Riviera right now."

The thought of Rachelle in a bikini made me warm. "Riviera?"

She adopted the you're a hick look again. "The French Riviera?"

"Oh, that one." France had topless beaches, right? My eyes flicked to the slight cleavage exposed by her dress' neckline.

"When you graduate high school, try getting out more."

"Hey, it's a small town, but we're not backward. I've got internet."

"How progressive."

I eye-rolled. "If you wanna tan, there's a swimming pool at the high school that's open to the public each summer. I can take you tomorrow."

Her nose wrinkled up again. "A public pool? No thanks."

"Suit yourself," I said with a shrug. "There's a brochure in your room, but Blue Star Valley has nature hikes, a movie theater, restaurants, an antique store, an art gallery, the handmade goods shop, and a farmer's market every Saturday morning June to September. You'll find something to keep busy with."

Her snobby comments would've gotten a rise out of some people, but I wasn't taking the bait. You only get defensive if you're insecure, ashamed, or guilty, and I had none of those feelings about my home. Her views wouldn't make me love it any less.

"Isn't it your job to make me a happy guest?"

"If I was an employee."

"You work at the B&B and don't get paid?"

"I get an allowance, not an hourly salary. Stuff I do is chores. My primary responsibility is to learn the business so I can take it over when my parents retire."

"How much is your allowance?"

"That's nosy."

Her eyes narrowed. "You've been saving for college, haven't you?"

"What—"

"People who don't get a degree earn less in their lifetimes. If you're committed to running a B&B in the middle of nowhere someday, then you should go into the Hospitality Business degree. You're a senior in the fall, right?"

"Yeah."

She nodded. "You said you'd been driving for a year and you have to be sixteen to drive in America, so that makes you seventeen or nearly so."

"Middle of June."

"I turned sixteen in January."

"Take your driving test?"

"I have a driver."

"Will you always? Every day?"

She opened her mouth to argue…then couldn't. I grinned.

Turnabout is fair play, girl.

Hands on the table, she leaned in. "Let's make a deal. I help you apply for college so you're not stuck here and you give me driving lessons."

I laughed. "I'm not putting a newb behind my truck."

"Why not?"

"It doesn't have power steering. Or disc brakes."

She stuck her bottom lip out and crossed her arms under her breasts. "So?"

"Ask your dad."

She huffed. "I can't. My parents are busy."

"On vacation?"

"Trying to save their marriage," she replied through gritted teeth.

Ah.

I had a feeling things were rough, but— "I'm sorry."

"I don't want pity."

"It's empathy."

She flicked her gaze to mine and for once, her eyes weren't shielding her feelings.

I saw pain and worry.

"How long have they been fighting?" I asked softly.

A snort. "When haven't they?" She shook her head. "But no, it's been bad the past several months. I don't know what set them off. They won't talk about it. They pretend I can't hear the shouting, the angry voices." A sigh. "I come from a world of appearances. Everyone is wearing a mask, even at school."

"Sounds horrible."

She chuckled, though it wasn't a happy laugh. "You're right. It is. My best friend is the one person I trust. We've known each other since we were babies. She's like a sister."

"She knows all about this stuff?"

She nodded. "Lucy and I talk all the time. Though cell service is shitty here."

My brows rose. "You have a cell phone?"

"You don't?"

I just stared at her.

"I have an iPhone. Certainly you've seen them advertised on TV."

"Smartphones are stupid expensive. What's the point of all those features?"

"Oh, come on. Isn't it more convenient to carry one device versus a phone, a laptop, and a camera? The computer can't even fit in your pocket."

"Your fancy phone still can't do all the things a laptop can."

"Maybe not now, but one day."

"Nah. You'd have to make it almost as big as a laptop to do the same thing."

She tipped her perfect nose up. "Agree to disagree."

My pie piece was long since finished, so I nursed my soda while she finished the milkshake. Her Diet Coke had barely been touched. When she excused herself to the ladies' room, I went up to the register and pulled some cash out of my pocket.

"New girl in town?" Maisie said.

"Yup."

"She's pretty."

"She's just visiting, Miss Maisie."

She smirked. "Say hi to your folks, Shane."

"Will do." I took my change as Rachelle returned. "Ready?"

She continued toward the door, so I hurried to open it.

"It's only 8:30. What else ya got?" she asked.

"Do you like stars?"

"What?"

"Come on." I unlocked the passenger door. Helped her inside and waited for her skirt to be clear. When I got around to the other side, the door was unlocked.

I got a glimpse down her top. She'd reached over to pull the knob up.

"Thanks," I said with a tight throat.

My V8 roared to life and I drove out of town.

"Where are we going?"

"You'll see."

There was a scenic overlook not far down the highway, but it was around a bend, so the lights didn't reach here. I parked in the turnout and pointed out the windshield.

"Look."

Rachelle leaned forward and tipped her face up. "Oh my God." Then she opened her door and hopped down. I followed.

When I reached her, she was looking straight up at our galaxy.

"Shane…" she said in an awed whisper.

"You didn't know what a sky looked like outside a city, did you?"

"It's beautiful. I didn't know so many stars existed." She dropped her chin to smile at me. "Thank you." A real, genuine smile.

I suddenly had no words, and nodded. A happy Rachelle was gorgeous.

A breeze curled around us. She shivered. My hands moved to rub her arms without me telling them to. Her skin had goose bumps.

We stared at each other. With the quiet of the forest above and below, it seemed like we were the only two people on Earth. Who moved closer first? I didn't know.

One minute, we were looking and the next, our lips touched. Hers parted on a silent gasp. I'd kissed a couple girls before, but something made me take extra care with her, applying gentle pressure as I tilted my head. Her arms came around my neck. My hand cupped her cheek and jaw. Then she let out a tiny moan and—

Something unlocked.

She gripped me tighter and deepened the kiss until we were making out. I wrapped my arms around her, my hands on her back, and she got hotter every second. The kiss was the spark to ignite the combustible us until warning bells went off in my head.

I'd just met this girl. She would leave in three weeks.

I needed to not think with my dick.

"It's getting late. You're parents are probably wondering about you."

"Uh-huh." She breathed rapidly. Her eyes were bright in the moonlight.

We climbed into the truck again and I turned it toward home.

Should've clued me in for the future.

We'd spend the next ten years of Julys wrapped up in carnal delights. Every year, though I kept wondering when she'd skip out.

She needed the release, an escape from her constricting normal life.

I was the idiot who developed feelings.

The latest visit was only weeks away and the thrill of anticipation lived in my spine. Despite her giving me the same answer every year since she was twenty, I still hoped the next visit would be the one where she decided to stay.

Call me a romantic.

Or a fool.

How many times does a guy have to be told no, right?

But I couldn't give her up.

I craved her as much as she craved me.