“Here you go.” The bartender breaks my stare as she places my martini in front of me. “Twenty-two dollars.”

“Put it on my tab, and three more Pappy’s.” He grins down at me. My red alert alarm goes off in my head. This one is no good. In fact, he might be my strike two, reminding me a little too much of Jett with the whole I’m-God’s-gift-to-women thing.

“What’s your name, beautiful?” He leans his elbows forward so I can really see his handsome face. Tan skin, light freckles cover the bridge of his nose, definitely a no.

“Cher,” I easily lie, picking up my drink to get away from him.

“Wait for me. I need to introduce myself to you before you run away.” That stops me. Am I jaded? Ridiculous? Because this guy is nothing like Jett. He’s playful, and there’s a twinkle in his eyes, not the dark intensity that robs me of breath and speech.

Maybe this man is the perfect distraction for me. He’s gorgeous and looks like he knows where a clitoris is.

“Cher?” He arches a brow at me. “Tell me you are over eighteen?”

And… he’s strike two. Already asking way too many questions.

“I’m twenty-one. Thanks for the drink.” I move to shimmy out of the crowded area, but he grabs the three highballs, following me.

“Come join me and my friends. I just got into town, darlin’.” He motions with his head toward the left side of the bar where the booths are.

This time huge warning bells are full-on ringing. Not because I think he’ll rape me, but it feels like I’m gonna regret this. He must sense my resistance because he gives me a smile that I’m sure has convinced way too many women he is the man of their dreams.

Unfortunately for him, it does nothing to me, except remind me that I already met the man of my dreams…and he’s fucking my mother.

“Come on, I’ll protect you from all these assholes in suits.” He waggles his eyebrows, and I can’t help but smile.

Why not? He’s charming and gorgeous, hopefully not married, although I have no intention of seeing him again, so who cares. I look at my shoes, then back at him.

“Fine. One drink, then I have to meet my girlfriends.” I start to follow him. This is what I came here for after all.

“I’m Andrew.” He grins, walking ahead of me, stopping at a booth. “And this is Jax Saddington and Jett Powers.” He sets the drinks down on the table and I freeze.

He did not just say that name?

I’m hearing things. My eyes dart to the two men sitting, laughing.

I’m going to throw up, or at the very least, faint, because this can’t be happening.