I looked down at my cell and shook my head.

“Why the long face?” My buddy Colby walked back into the kitchen and tossed me the keys to his car. “I didn’t think single guys with no kids and fat bank accounts had anything to stress over.”

I caught the keys. “Bite me.”

He chuckled. “No, really. Is everything alright? You were grumbling at your phone the other day when I walked into the elevator, too.”

“Yeah, everything’s fine. Except one of the volunteers on the renovations team for the new Ryan’s House project is driving me nuts. You know how we pick two team leaders to help coordinate things on each job?”

Colby nodded. “One for the mechanics—electrical, plumbing, heating, and stuff, and one for interior design—paint, flooring, fixtures, and appliances, right?”

“Exactly. This dude Alex is the design team leader. He’s driving me nuts with his suggestions. He questions every fixture, appliance, and molding I’ve picked out. Today he wants to change the living room paint color by a shade—a freaking shade. I couldn’t even see the difference between the two paint samples online. Now he just asked if we could meet for dinner tonight to go over a few last-minute changes he’d like to make.” I shook my head. “No way am I doing that. It’s a good thing you clowns are coming up this weekend to help out, because I have a feeling this guy’s going to test my limits.”

Colby made a pouty face. “Awww… Brayden has trouble working with others.”

I shook my head, but smiled. “I don’t know why I tell you shit.”

“Probably because no one else wants to listen to you.”

“Ouch.”

He laughed. “What time you getting on the road today?”

“Probably about two. I need to stop by the office and pick up a project I’ve been working on for a kid. He’s in the hospital upstate again, so I’m going to drop by to visit over the weekend and surprise him with it.”

“What did you make this time?”

I grinned. “You know I don’t give hints about my masterpieces before the unveiling. I told his family I’d come by Sunday. If you knuckleheads are still around, you should join me.”

“Sounds good.”

I held up Colby’s car keys. “Thanks again for the car swap. Mine is too small to fit baseboard heating covers.”

“Anytime you want to swap my ten-year-old, beat-up SUV for your hot little six-month-old Porsche, I’m in.” He grinned. “I’m going to have a good-ass time driving that thing upstate Saturday morning.”

I opened the door. “Don’t get arrested for going a hundred and twenty.”

***

Later that night, I checked into the hotel up in Seneca Falls and decided to go down to the lobby bar for a drink. It was empty, except for a woman sitting alone. She had a drink in front of her, and a full glass of wine sat at the empty stool beside her, so I assumed she must be here with someone. I took a seat along the short side of the bar to give them some privacy.

But damn… Sitting here gave me an even better view of the woman, and she was a total knockout—sandy blond hair, big blue eyes, and high cheekbones that led down to a full set of lips. She might’ve been a few years older than me, but that didn’t stop a rush of adrenaline from giving my body a good jolt.

The bartender walked over and dropped a napkin in front of me. “What can I get you?”

“I’ll take a whiskey sour. Any chance you have Russell’s Reserve Ten-Year bourbon to make it with?”

The bartender’s brows pulled together, and he thumbed to the woman sitting alone. “You with her?”

“No, why?”

He shrugged. “She just ordered the same drink. That brand of bourbon and all.”

“Really?”

“Yep.”

I glanced over again and lowered my voice. “She alone?”

“Is now. Some guy sidled up to her when she came in a few minutes ago, but he left pretty quickly with his tail between his legs.”

Alrighty then. “Any chance you guys serve food here?”

“Sure do. I’ll grab you a menu.”

Even though I now knew she was alone, I wasn’t too enthused about striking up a conversation with the pretty blonde. Not after she’d just chased another guy away. But when the bartender brought my drink and she looked over, I raised my glass.

“Apparently we ordered the same drink.”

“Whiskey sour?” she asked.

“With Russell’s Reserve Ten-Year.”

She smiled and held up her glass. “To good taste.”

I tipped my glass to her. A minute later, my phone buzzed with a call from Colby. I swiped to answer. “I hope you’re not calling to tell me you dented my car already.”

“No, but how the hell do you put the top back up?”

“You know the button you pushed to drop it?”

“Yeah.”

“It’s the same button to put it back up. You just need to hold it for ten seconds.”

“Crap. Okay, thanks.”

“Where the hell are you that you have the top down?”

“I got a sitter and took my wife for a drive. The wind in our hair is making us feel young and free, instead of like the parents of two little kids we are, usually in bed by eight.”

I chuckled. “Well, enjoy it.”

“I plan to. Why do you think I need the top up? I just pulled into a quiet rest stop, and I need a little privacy, if you know what I mean.”

“Ugh. Don’t tell me that, dude. I don’t want your bare ass all over my seat.”

“No promises, my friend.”

I shook my head. “God, I hate you. Goodbye.”

After I hung up, the knockout looked over. “I’m not usually rude, but I couldn’t help but overhear your conversation,” she began. “I once bought a new car. When I picked it up, I found an empty condom wrapper on the floor of the front seat. I made them give me another car.”

I smiled. “My buddy and I swapped vehicles for the weekend. I’m considering keeping his crappy ten-year-old hunk of junk and letting him keep my nice, new one after his ass cheeks have rubbed all over the leather.”

“I think that’s a good idea. Unless…”

“What?”

“What if your friend has a penchant for car sex? I’m afraid that would mean he’s already done it in the one you’re driving.”

I pointed. “Good observation. I’ll just get mine detailed.”

The beautiful woman smiled again, and I found myself wondering if she had lipstick on or if her lips were naturally that color. They were just a little more pink than the fleshy red I’d expect for someone with her skin tone. Or maybe she wore some sort of gloss, because they were also perfectly shiny.

After a much-too-long analysis, I realized I probably looked like a creeper staring at her mouth and diverted my eyes to the menu the bartender had dropped off. Though I still couldn’t stop myself from stealing glances in between reading about the appetizers. There was something compelling about her. It might’ve been that her face wasn’t painted to fake-perfection like most women these days.

A few minutes later, I looked over and noticed her glass was empty. So I took a chance. “Can I buy us another round?”

She bit her bottom lip. “Ummm…”

I held my hands up. “It’s just a drink. I won’t invite myself over to the empty seat next to you.”

She smiled. “Sure. Why not? Thank you.”

I held two fingers up to the bartender. “Another round for both of us. On me, please. And when you get a chance, I’ll take an order of the Mexican street corn chicken tacos.”

“Oh, gosh,” the woman said. “I love Mexican street corn. That sounds delicious.”

“Oh, so now you want me to buy you drinks and dinner?”

She waved her hands. “Oh, no, I wasn’t suggesting—”

I smiled. “I’m teasing.” I looked back at the bartender. “Make that two orders of the tacos, please.”

“You got it.”

“Well, now that you’re buying me food and a drink, I feel obligated to offer you the vacant seat next to me.”

“Oh, no. There’s no obligation, really.”

She grinned. “I’m teasing, too.”

I laughed, but I also got up and walked over to her. “Is this seat taken?”

“It’s not. But I can’t promise no bare butts have been on it.”

“I’ll risk it.” I sat and held out my hand. “Brayden.”

“Alexandria. Nice to meet you, Brayden.”

“You, too. Are you a guest at this hotel, or just came in to flirt with a guy and get him to buy you dinner and drinks?”

She smiled. I liked that she could take a joke. “I’m staying here. You?”

“Same. What are you in town for?”

“I’m volunteering for a charity that renovates houses near hospitals for patients who can’t afford a hotel while they’re getting cancer treatment.”

My jaw fell open. “Are you serious? You’re volunteering for Ryan’s House?”

“You know it?”

“I’m the founder. But once a year, I also volunteer to swing a hammer. This is my once.”

“Really?”

“Let me get this straight. We drink the same drink, both love street-corn tacos, both dislike ass imprints on our car seats, and we’re volunteering for the same project? Do I just propose now? Or should I wait and see if you love candy corn as much as I do?”

Her eyes sparkled. “I love candy corn.”

I covered my heart with my hand. “Alexandria Foster. It even has a nice ring to it, doesn’t it?”

The bartender interrupted our love fest to deliver our drinks. When he walked away, we were both still smiling.

“So you really founded Ryan’s House?” Alexandria asked. “How did that come about?”

“Almost a decade ago, I lost one of my best friends to leukemia. Ryan and I were both engineering students in college when he started treatments. He spent a lot of time in the hospital and became interested in designing prosthetics with more flexibility. We started working on ideas together to pass the time during my visits. After he passed away, I continued with some of the concepts we’d come up with. Long story short, a couple of years later, I got a patent on a new type of prosthetic joint simulator. It’s licensed to most major artificial-limb manufacturers now. I tried to split the profit with Ryan’s parents, but they wouldn’t take anything. So his half goes toward buying the houses we renovate each year for Ryan’s House.”

“That’s incredible.”

I sipped my drink. “How about you? Are you just volunteering, or is there a story behind why you picked Ryan’s House to donate your time?”

Alexandria smiled sadly. “I lost my husband a few years ago to leukemia.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Thank you. He was older than me, but still way too young.”

“Is this your first time volunteering, or did you work on another of the houses?”

“It’s my first time. To be honest, I’m kind of nervous about it.”

“What’s there to be nervous about?” I asked.

“I don’t have too much construction experience.”

“I’ll tell you what, I’ll make sure you’re on the good team then.”

“I didn’t realize there was a good team and a bad team.”

“Usually there isn’t. But we split the volunteers into two crews, each with a team leader who coordinates who does what and makes sure we have the supplies and stuff. One of the team leaders is a real pain in the ass, a know it all. He wants to change everything that’s been planned before we even start. He’s definitely going to micromanage his crew.”

“Oh, wow. Okay. Thank you.”

“We usually just count off the volunteers who show up to give each team an equal number. But I’ll make sure you’re in Jason’s group and not Alex’s.”

“Oh. So Alex is the pain in the ass?”

“Giant pain in the ass.”

The bartender walked over with our food. It looked as delicious as it had sounded on the menu. Conversation slowed as we dug in, but I enjoyed the quiet with the company sitting next to me. After we finished eating, I turned to ask Alexandria something, but I lost track of what I was saying three words in. Her eyes were that mesmerizing.

“What?” She wiped at her cheek. “Do I have sauce on my face?”

I shook my head. “Sorry, no. I hope you don’t mind me saying so, but you are absolutely beautiful. I’m relieved I got to sit next to you because I couldn’t stop myself from staring when I was sitting over there.”

Her cheeks pinked. “Thank you.”

Both our drinks were almost empty again, so I motioned to the glasses. “You want another one?”

“I think I’m going to call it a night.”

Disappointment flooded through me. I hoped I hadn’t upset her with my compliment.

Alexandria motioned to the bartender. “Could I close out my tab, please?”

“Sure thing.”

He walked away and came back a minute later. I was still trying to decide if I should apologize. Maybe I’d been too forward?

She signed the check and hopped down from the stool.

“Listen, Alexandria. I didn’t mean to upset you by saying how beautiful I think you are. I apologize if that came off creepy.”

“No, that wasn’t what insulted me.”

“That wasn’t? So something else I said insulted you?”

She looked at me a moment. “Such a shame. Because I find you attractive, too.”

“I’m confused. Why is that a shame?”

She shook her head. “Goodnight, Brayden. I’ll see you in the morning. Oh, and you don’t have to worry about which team I’m on. I’m happy on Alexandria’s team.”

“Alexandria’s team?”

“Oh. Did I say Alexandria’s team? I meant Alex’s team. I go by both names. Alexandria is my given name, after my grandmother. Alex for short.”

***

The guys would always tease me that I needed to hurry up and settle down.

But I was in no rush.

Until I met someone worth rushing for.

Alex was one of the weekend volunteers at Ryan’s House—a charity I founded to build housing near hospitals.

Little did I know she was the same person I’d been arguing with over email before the project started. At the time, I’d thought Alex was a dude.

In reality? She was a smoking hot blonde who captivated me from the moment we met in person.

Our chemistry was off the charts, and I fell hard pretty fast.

Unfortunately, Alex insisted I was too young for her. I hated that she felt that way. Because age was just a number.

Not only that, her words didn’t match the way she looked at me—like she was very interested.

I lived for the weekends we’d spend out of town volunteering. Alex and I side-by-side hammering during the day, while sharing intimate dinners together at the hotel at night.

Eventually, the walls she’d put up to protect her heart began to crumble.

Until fate threw us a doozy that I wasn’t sure we could come back from.

If I’d thought our age gap was the biggest hurdle, I didn’t know anything yet.

Rule number one for dating an older woman who insists you could never be together?