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Chapter One

Zoe

“He’s probably one of those internet fishers.” My mother pours herself a cup of coffee as she speaks. It’s the fresh from Hawaii kind that my aunt brought back from a trip last month. Mom insists on drinking it one drop at a time… to savor the flavors.

“Internet fishers? You mean catfish?” I resist rolling my eyes. “He’s not a catfish, Mom. We video chat all the time.”

“That’s not what I mean. He could have ulterior motives—like those foreign princes that want to take your hard-earned money and use it on bitcoin.”

Now I actually roll my eyes. “Bitcoin?Mom, he doesn’t ask me for money.”

Defying her own savoring of the flavor profile, Mom pours sweetened creamer into her coffee and sighs. “I’m just saying… it’s safer to meet a boy right here in town. It’s how your father and I met.”

I love my mother, I really do. She’s always been there for me, and she really tries, but the woman is clueless. Clueless and overly protective. Take this situation, for instance. I’ve been talking to a guy online for three months.We have a ninety-two percent match in their compatibility system.His background is verified, and we video chat constantly, but he’s not real untilmy mother says he’s real. The mere fact that Icouldmeet him someday puts her in some sort of psychosis.

This is seriously the third time we’ve talked about this in a week. Yesterday, the man was a charming murderer who was filling my head with lies in order to get my virginity and leave me for dead. The day before that, he was a cannibal who had a hunger for young girls. She saw that one onDateline.

“Mom, you and Dad were lucky. You met in high school before the world went to shit and everyone forgot how to talk to each other. No one talks in real life anymore.”

“Then you start the conversation. Find a man you think is attractive and ask him a question. When your dad and I were dating, I asked him what his favorite band was.” She takes a sip of coffee. “He told me it was the Rolling Stones, and I also thought they were a good band, but I pretended to hate them so we’d have something to flirt about.”

I can’t help but laugh at the purity in her statement. “I’ll have to try that.”

“We both know you’re not going to try that.” Her eyes roll to the side. “Come on, Zoe Anne. You’re a beautiful girl. You could meet someone nice right here in Rugged Mountain.”

“I’ve tried. I don’t do the social thing well and the guys around here… I don’t think they find me attractive.”

Her brows wrinkle as though she’s personally insulted. “Why do you say that?”

“Ugh, because I’m alone every Friday night.”

“You don’t leave the house. That’s why you’re alone.”

“Anyway…” I swallow hard and suck in a deep breath. I can’t have this conversation again today. “Things are going well with this guy online and… yeah, we’ll see where it goes.” I’ve barely finished my sentence when my phone interrupts our conversation. “Oh, that’s Nora.”

I stand from the stool and reach for my purse before squeezing Mom tight. Despite all the bullshit, we’ve been through hell and back together. I try and remember that when she’s driving me crazy. “We’re going down to the playground today to help plant flowers.”

“They’re done with the playground? I thought they just started that project?” She wraps her robe tighter before holding the cup of coffee against her lips.

“No, it’s still a construction zone, but Mrs. Robinson is anxious to get the plants in while the weather is right. She wants blooms before the kids come to play. I’ll call you later this week. Love you.”

She replies with a ramble about coming back tomorrow morning for breakfast, but I keep walking. The breakfast invitation has become an everyday thing lately. I can’t deal with it this morning. Outside, I meet my friend Nora, who’s waiting in her dad’s old truck. He hates when she takes it off the farm. I know because we got in trouble for it one too many times as teenagers. Heck, we were driving that truck to the Springs far before we had licenses to drive. We were a couple of rebels.Where did those girls go?

I’m pretty sure at twenty-three we’re still supposed to be rebelling. Instead, she’s broke and working on her dad’s farm and I’m home every night talking to strange men on the internet.

Not strange.I didn’t say they’re strange.

“Hurry up!” She slaps the rusty truck door with a grin. “I’ve got news.”

I intentionally slow down, walking at a snail’s pace around the truck toward the passenger door.I love getting her going.

“Oh my God. Seriously? Move it or I’ll spank that ass.” She laughs at the last comment. This is how we play. She pretends to be the men from one of the books I like, and depending on theday, I either go along with it or I protest. It’s wildly entertaining for a couple of small-town girls without a whole lot else going on.

When I’m finally up in the truck, she glances toward me with wide eyes. “My parents asked me to help Colton out.”

“Oh… Colton. The forty-nine-year-old friend of your father’s you’ve been crushing on for years. That’s a super idea,” I say, using my announcer voice as though this is a movie trailer for a film I think is ridiculous.

She laughs and cocks an eyebrow. “Okay, so you really do want that spanking? Bend over.”

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