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conversation and joking was something she didn’t run across in very many men. She was used to manicured men in expensive suits with egos as frustrating as their personalities. Occasionally there was one worth moving past the first couple of dates, on to a few more. Even then, their already giant egos inflated more so in bed. So far, not one had lived up to his hype, leaving her to battery operated relief once she ’d walked them to the door, said goodnight and turned the deadbolt. Usually with her forehead pressed against the wood in disappointment before walking straight to her nightstand.
    Phillip had been the worst. He was just a void she didn’t like to think about , so, she didn’t.
    One Victorian house on the corner of Cherry Street suddenly drew her in and totally captivated her. It needed some TLC, but it looked like the owners were in the process of just that. She was in the dark with just the corner street lamp to see by, but Taryn saw many improvements were already completed. The roof looked brand new, and the railing on the wrap-around front porch was in perfect condition. From her experience that was due to good upkeep. A house that old would have settled, maybe even dramatically, taking its porch with it, leaving it to visibly sag.
    Easing to a complete stop in front of the beauty, she just wanted to appreciate it a minute longer. She would definitely come back when the sun was up just to get a better peek, but in the meantime, she didn’t want to stay parked out front too much longer. No need to have the police called and being accused of stalking.
    Movement in the detached garage caught her attention. It was built off to the side of the house and farther back, but both doors were open. She watched for a moment as a man took swing after swing at the heavy black bag. Taryn witnessed her brothers working out now and then when they were growing up, but there was something different in the way this man swung at the bag. There was fury behind each punch. Each contact his fist made was an attack.
    He pivoted on his toes, the swings firing fast and hard. It was then she caught a glimpse of the man’s face. The build was right, the hair too. He had traded the jeans for loose shorts that were hanging from his hips, but no shirt. The sweat dripped off him, glinting in the light of the garage.
    She forced out the breath she didn’t realize she’d been holding.
    It was Mike.
    The man she’d spent an hour with in easy conversation. Well, almost three hours if one counted the time spent eating in the bar, even though they weren’t technically sitting at the same table for most of it. She was having a hard time reconciling the differences between the man from this afternoon and this one.
    Sure, he was tall, broad shouldered, and made of concrete. He could probably snap a man’s neck with barely a flick of his wrists, but Taryn had the impression he was more of a well built, muscled teddy bear.
    However, the man in the garage swinging himself into exhaustion, was a man trying to outrun his ghosts.
    If she knew him better, she’d approach him. Unfortunately, some of the lessons her father taught her were too ingrained. Her safety was supposed to be her first concern. He was still technically a stranger and that fact kept her in her car.
    Taryn watched him for several long minutes before closing her eyes, blowing out a breath, and then turning her focus back to the road ahead. Putting the car in drive, she left Mike in the quiet of the night.

     
     
    Chapter 4
     
    Gabby kept an eye on the customers as they drifted around her beloved bookstore, but also typed word after word on her laptop. The small gold bell jingled when the heavy door opened yet again. The same bell her grandfather had attached to the wood door frame many decades ago. The familiar sound still brought a smile to her face for the man she adored until he passed just a handful of years prior.
    The sophisticated dark blonde that Mike had brought in