Charmer (Havenbrook #1)

Chapter 6

CHAPTER SIX

WILLOW

Even thirty feet away, there was no mistaking exactly who’d just made their entrance. There was also no mistaking the way my stomach bottomed out at the same time my heart started galloping like a racehorse.

Finn stood by the door, Nola and Drew on either side of him. As he surveyed the room, I took the opportunity to survey him , the unabashed ogling something I’d tried to rein in when he’d been in my office and had been watching me. Now I had the opportunity to stare with him unaware.

His hair was mussed, like he’d been running his hand through it. The scruff on his jaw had grown in even more since the other day, and I nearly sat on my hands to hold back the urge I had to feel it against my palms. He was casual in a white T-shirt, the material clinging to huge muscles that looked both strange and completely at home on his frame. He tucked his hand into the pocket of the dark jeans hanging low on his slim hips, causing my eyes to trail all the way down his body.

“Hello?” Mac snapped her fingers in my face. “What’s got your attention?” Before waiting for me to answer, she looked over her shoulder, her head snapping back almost immediately. “Well, shit.”

“What? What’s up?” Avery asked, turning in the direction Mac had looked. Once she spotted who we’d been looking at, she whistled low. “Damn. Looks like we picked the wrong place to drink.”

“What do you want, Will? You wanna leave?” Mac asked, setting her empty bottle on the table. “We can try Rudy’s instead?”

Rudy’s was a dive bar a few miles farther down the road, just a bar top and some high tables inside, no frivolous extras—like clean bathrooms—to be seen. It was a place you went strictly to get shit-faced. And while that sounded pretty good right about now, my drink was already working its magic, the alcohol flowing through my veins. I’d spent the past several days avoiding Finn, staying holed up in my house or my office. But I’d be damned if I let him run me out of here too.

“What I want,” I said, tearing my eyes away from Finn, “is another drink.”

Avery and Mac exchanged a look, then Avery nodded. “You got it, sweetcheeks. Be right back.”

One thing Avery had mastered was getting the bartender’s attention almost immediately, her cleavage going a long way to shorten the time frame. Less than five minutes later, I had another Long Island Iced Tea in my hand.

I worked hard to avoid tracking Finn’s movements, instead counting on Mac and Avery to take care of it for me. Every once in a while, I’d catch Mac’s eyes narrowed at some place over my shoulder, but I never looked. Told myself I didn’t want to. Didn’t need to. I was here to have fun, and I wasn’t going to let Finn Thomas ruin that for me.

“You ready to move this out on the dance floor?” Avery asked as I finished my second drink.

I scrunched up my nose, the tingly sensation from my lips having spread to most of my face. “Maybe.”

“If there’s one thing that’ll get your mind off this week, it’s a hot man who rocks a cowboy hat and whose ass looks sinful in a pair of jeans.”

I laughed, trying to suck up one last sip of my drink. “That was oddly specific.”

“Yeah, well, prepare yourself. Mr. Oddly Specific is headed this way.”

A few seconds later, three guys surrounded our table. Every one of them was a good-looking country boy—and each of them knew it too.

“Evenin’, ladies,” the first guy said, tipping his hat. “How ’bout y’all come out and dance with us.”

It wasn’t a question but rather a statement, cockiness rolling off him in waves. Arrogance usually turned me off, but it wasn’t like I was going to start dating the guy. Hell, I wasn’t even going to take him home for a night of fun. I’d come here to forget about Finn and the mess he’d tossed back on my doorstep. Alcohol went a long way toward helping me do that. Dancing with this guy would go even further.

Avery and Mac deferred to me, and after a short nod from me, the girls both grinned, hopping off their stools and leading the way to the dance floor. Mr. Oddly Specific settled in behind me, his hands on my hips as the band played a current radio hit. His body was a little too close for my liking, but I ignored it, instead focusing on letting the music flow through me.

I raised my hands above my head, swiveling my hips to the beat as I closed my eyes and tried to forget the fact that my ex-boyfriend hadn’t fled Havenbrook like I’d assumed he would. Tried to ignore the fact that he was mere feet from me, somewhere in the bar.

Tried to ignore the way my nipples tightened at the thought, a low hum running through my body, the tattoo at my hip tingling with memories.

Moments later, I knew exactly why my body was buzzing. Even though I didn’t look behind me, I recognized the second Finn replaced Mr. Oddly Specific at my back. The air around me grew charged, the fresh scent of him wrapping around me like my favorite childhood blanket.

How, after so long, did he still smell the same? More importantly, how did I remember ? And why did it transport me back to years ago, to memories of sunsets watched from the bed of his old truck, long walks along forgotten trails, and hidden moments in my childhood tree house, every single one of them heavily weighted with comfort and security?

Finn didn’t say anything, didn’t announce his arrival or that he’d somehow gotten rid of the other guy, just placed his hands on my hips, exactly as the man before him had.

But this felt different. Though it always had with Finn.

Heat spread through my body, pooling low in my belly. For all intents and purposes, his touch was chaste. His hands rested over the denim of my shorts, and though I could feel the heat of him against my back, none of his body touched mine. And yet even with that minuscule touch of just his hands against me, it lit me up more than some men had been able to do while lying naked beside me.

It was the first touch the two of us had shared in years, and my body warred with itself, half of me wanting to flee, to find Mac and Avery and get the hell out of the bar. But the other half wanted to press back against him, wanted to lean into him and feel those newly developed muscles along my back. Wanted to pretend for a while we didn’t have history, that he hadn’t stomped on my heart. That I wasn’t the brokenhearted sweetheart of Havenbrook. Wanted to pretend he was just some guy who could make my body hum simply by his presence.

So that was exactly what I did.

I continued dancing like I hadn’t noticed the change in partner, though how I managed was a damn miracle because my entire body felt like it was on fire. Finn kept his touch subtle, but the tips of his fingers scorched me even through the layers of fabric separating our skin. And even though I was burning up inside, feeling like there was a neon arrow above my head, pointing straight down at me, the people around me were oblivious.

Avery and Mac were somewhere on the dance floor, though I couldn’t see them. Which was probably for the better. If either of them saw Finn and me dancing together, they’d drag me out by my hair.

When the music switched to a slower, grittier song, the undercurrent of the beat and lyrics blatantly sexual, Finn and I didn’t pull apart. Instead, he closed the last couple of inches between us, settling along my back as he slid an arm around my waist and tugged me against him, brushing his palm across my stomach along the way.

The lights were dim, the dance floor packed with so many people it felt like we were hiding in plain sight. Maybe that was what allowed me to relax back into him, my ass settling into the cradle of his hips. I caught my breath at what I felt behind the fly of his jeans, how hard he was for me, and couldn’t stop my eyelids from fluttering closed, my head lolling to the side as it rested against his chest.

Finn leaned closer, running his nose along the column of my neck, and it was so easy to forget everything when he touched me so reverently. So easy to block out all the horrible memories we shared when he held me like I meant something. So easy to shove aside all our history.

At least, until he rubbed a circle against my hip over the material of my shorts, his fingers in the general vicinity of the brand I’d had put on myself ten long years ago.

“You still have my bird on you, Willowtree?” He pressed his lips against my ear, his voice a quiet rumble that ricocheted through my entire body, first sending a shiver down my spine before snapping it straight.

The tattoos we’d gotten on my eighteenth birthday had been one of my last acts of rebellion. And, unfortunately, had become a daily reminder of how much I’d misjudged someone I’d thought I’d known better than anyone. A daily reminder of my failures, one I couldn’t run from.

As his words charged the space between us, I didn’t pause to think—didn’t turn around and give him a piece of my mind, didn’t so much as stomp on his foot. Instead, I plucked his hand from around my waist and walked off the dance floor without a backward glance, ready to get the hell out of this bar.

What had started out as a night to forget everything Finn had brought to my doorstep ended up only serving as a reminder of exactly why everything about him was a bad idea. He had trouble written all over him, and if my reactions were anything to go by, I couldn’t trust myself around him, not even with our sordid history.

If he wouldn’t stay away from me, I’d make damn sure I stayed the hell away from him.