Page 1 of The One Who Changed Me

CHAPTERONE

MARISSA

My eyes roam around the dimly lit bar as I try not to think of my latest conversation with my mother about why I couldn’t be more like my sister, Sutton. Otherwise known as the perfect child.

Don’t get me wrong, I love my sister, but there’s just something about being compared to her daily that grates on my nerves. You’d think after all this time, my parents, particularly my mother, would stop constantly comparing us to each other, but apparently, I’m not that lucky. In my mother’s eyes, Sutton does no wrong—well, unless she hasn’t called her for a few weeks, or she’s reminded that she hasn’t stepped foot in our childhood home once since leaving five years ago.

I know what you’re thinking, but I don’t hate my sister. We used to be thick as thieves, before she left me and everyone else in Magnolia in her rearview mirror. The moment she graduated high school, she hightailed it out of town and hasn’t come back once. It’s hard to maintain a relationship with someone who would rather forget you existed than come home to visit. Unlike me, who went to college and came right back home.

No, I wasn’t sucking up for brownie points. I love Magnolia. Sure, I left for college, but it was always my plan to come back to my hometown. I have a job I love, and I’m saving up to buy a beautiful two-story farmhouse with a welcoming, oversized front porch on the other side of town from my parents. I’ve been dreaming about buying and raising a family in that house since I was in my teens. I’d planned on owning it by now, and maybe also having a few kids, but then life happened. Even though things haven’t turned out the way I planned, I’m determined to own that house. It’s my dream house to raise a family whenever I choose to have one. Which, according to my mother, better be soon or my womb is going to shrivel up like a raisin. Yeah, moms exaggerate these things when they have grandbaby fever.

My mom doesn’t seem to care that I’m happy and successful. Instead, she’s constantly reminding me what Sutton has that I don’t. The biggest difference between the two of us is that she has an insanely rich tool bag of a perfect fiancé. Ever since Sutton announced her engagement to Maxwell, never Max, it’s all my parents want to talk about. Hell, I can’t even get away from talking about her perfect life at work because my boss is obsessed with her, but that’s a whole different issue.

And that’s why I find myself sitting in a bar in downtown Chattanooga on this fine Friday evening. This isn’t the closest city to Magnolia, but I don’t want to take the chance of running into anyone I know because I doubt I’d make the best company. Right now, all I want is to be left alone to enjoy my couple of shots and then head over to my room at the hotel a few blocks down the road.

I’ve made it a rule since my epically public breakup in high school that I keep all my escapades as far away from Magnolia as possible. The last thing anyone wants is to run into one of their one-night stands in the middle of the grocery store, right?

“Is this seat taken?”

The corners of my mouth pull up into a sultry smile as I turn toward the owner of the voice, my eyes wandering down his body. The man is tall, just how I like them, with dark hair in a stylish cut. His muscular frame fills out his tightly fitted white T-shirt tucked into a pair of dark-colored jeans, and a leather jacket hangs open on his shoulders, giving me the perfect view of his washboard abs.

“Sure, but only if you buy me a drink,” I respond, throwing back the shot I’ve been nursing for the last few minutes.

“Done,” he responds with a smile before placing a black motorcycle helmet on the bar between us and taking a seat. “Can I get a scotch on the rocks and another shot for…” His voice trails off, his eyes locking with mine.

“Marissa,” I tell him with an easy grin, appreciating the fine specimen of a man standing in front of me. “And you are?”

“Finn,” he says with his unusually thick country twang, sending a shiver of need down my spine.

Shit.That country twang gets me every time, making me turn into a puddle of girlish goo on the floor.

“So, what brings a lady like you to a place like this?”

I barely resist the urge to roll my eyes. I’ve heard almost every pickup line there is, but this one is always a turnoff for me. There’s just something about it that screams,Red flag. Stay away.Sending any hopes of us moving past anything more than a few drinks. Too bad. He was definitely my type, but you win some and you lose some, I guess.

Don’t judge me. A woman has needs just like men do, and any woman that tells you that anything is better than the genuine article is lying. There’s nothing wrong with having consensual sex with a hot guy you meet in a bar. One-night stands are the best. No one gets hurt that way. We both can scratch an itch before returning to our lives.

“Good booze and great music. What more could a lady ask for?” I respond, plastering a fake smile on my face, hoping that he gets the hint.

That isn’t a lie, but it’s also not the complete truth either. There’s only one reason I drive hours to Chattanooga at least once a month to enjoy watered-down drinks: anonymity. Living in a small town kind of puts a damper on that. Everyone knows everything about you, especially if you grew up there. Couple that with the fact that I’m the chief deputy for the Magnolia County Sheriff’s Department, and everyone in town knows me on sight. It makes it almost impossible to enjoy a night out on the town. This could have been any bar with any band playing popular nineties music and it would be the best place in the world. Mainly because it was as far away from Magnolia as I can get while still having to work the next day.

Magnolia is the type of town that everyone wants to live in. The quaint, small mountain town that you read about in romance novels or see come to life in Hallmark movies, but if you’ve lived there your entire life, you’d need a break now and then. Taking the two-hour-and-some-change drive to a major city every couple of weeks protects my sanity. Sometimes I can even be persuaded to find someone to spend some time with in the nearby hotel.

When I said there was only one reason for driving hours to have a drink, I lied. There’s another, even more important, reason why getting out of Magnolia is a good idea. You know the sayingdon’t shit where you eat? I take that to heart. I take any and all activities with the opposite sex to another town, far away from any prying eyes.

“Are you from around here?” He leans in closer; the scent of motor oil and leather fills my nostrils as I breathe in.

“No. Just passing through,” I respond as the bartender places our drinks in front of us. I tilt my head back, downing my shot, relishing in the burning taste of tequila as it slides down my throat. Finn takes a sip of his drink, as well, before turning to me with a smirk.

“I don’t believe you,” he says, his eyes locked on mine.

I raise an eyebrow, intrigued. “Oh, really? And why is that?”

“Because you look like you have a story to tell. And not just any story, a juicy one. Come on, I can tell you’re itching to tell someone. Why not tell me?” He leans in even closer, his breath hot against my skin as he speaks.

I can feel my pulse quickening as his words wash over me. He’s right, I do have a story. It’s literally on the tip of my tongue.

For some reason, I feel the need to spill my deepest, darkest secrets to a perfect stranger. I can see how it is going to play out, the images running through my mind. I’ll tell him about how my parents want me to be just like my older sister. She has a great job, a house, and a fiancé that supposedly loves her more than life itself. And me, I’m jealous. I had that at one time. I was someone’s everything, and then it went up in a puff of smoke.

---