Free Infamous: (A Bad Boy Romantic Suspense) by Mila Noir

hint.
    “As I remember, you were fond of pie,” he said. “Two apple pies, Dave. Thanks.”
    “I was leaving,” she said.
    “You can stay a little longer to catch up with an old…friend. Last night was a bit of a misfire.” He grinned.
    “Oh, I don’t know. I said what I wanted to,” she said, giving him a big, fake smile.
    “I’m sure. But I haven’t,” he said quietly. Two slices of pie were laid down in front them with the faint clink of china on the Formica tabletop. They oozed apple juice with flecks of spice and did look good. But Taylor wasn’t even remotely hungry anymore, not even for sweets.
    “And why, exactly, should I listen to anything you have to say?” she asked, sitting back and looking at him like a bug she’d like to squash.
    “Because I’m sorry,” he said simply. Taylor gaped.
    “I…you’re…what?” she said, almost in a whisper.
    “I’m sorry,” he said and dug into his pie, not looking at her.
    Taylor felt like the world had just opened up and she’d fallen through into another dimension. This couldn’t possibly be real. She’d dreamt about it, more than once. But the people who hurt you in high school, especially the way Anton had hurt her, they didn’t just…apologize. That didn’t happen.
    “Are you serious?” she asked, when words worked again.
    “Very. And I’d like to take you out to dinner. On Friday, if you like, but another night would be fine, too,” Anton said, finishing his pie and looking at hers. She pushed it over to him with a sigh.
    “So you’re sorry for being quite possibly the biggest asshole this side of the Hudson River a decade ago and you’d like me to have dinner with you. Why?” she asked, continuing to sit back, arms still crossed, like this was the most boring conversation she’d ever had. Inside, she felt like she was on fire. It was too much. She had no idea how to process what had just happened. It was too monumental.
    “I owe you a real date. At least,” he said, eating her slice of pie. She narrowed her eyes.
    “You think a burger and a movie will make up for that night?” she hissed.
    “No. But it’s a start,” he said. “What do you say?”
    She sat there, going through an entire gamut of emotions. Anger. Shock. Denial. Shock again.
    “Okay,” she found herself saying. He blinked at her a few times, then smiled so wide and genuinely it was blinding.
    “Great! I’ll pick you up at seven on Friday. You at the inn?”
    “I am. I’ll be downstairs. Don’t stand me up,” she said, then got up, paid her check, and left, leaving him sitting at the booth, still smiling.
    She stood outside for a minute, getting her bearings. The wind had picked up even more and was making a low whine that was going to be a full howl by the time it went dark. And she was going to go to dinner at the end of the week with Anton Quinn. Who had just told her he was sorry for humiliating her and ruining her teen life.
    Well. This was going to be one hell of a week.

***

Part 2: Bad Boys and Good Girls
    Neither Taylor Harlow nor Anton Quinn were aware of just how strange and inextricably linked the legend of the Deathless Rider and the town of Sweethollow really were. Even though they’d both grown up there and been basically indoctrinated with the story since they’d been old enough to hear it, they didn’t know the “truth,” such as it was.
    Very few did.
    Like most local myths and legends, embellishment, superstition, tradition, and plain old storytelling whimsy surrounded the Rider in a kind of web of make-believe and reality. It represented the darker side of small-town life to a degree, a metaphor for secrets and mysteries, and of “justice” finding a way, even when that way was bloody and dark.
    Just like any other small town, Sweethollow had its share of darkness. People didn’t always die of natural causes. Not everyone was as small-town sweet and down home as they appeared. There was gossip, rumor, affairs, and