Starts With a Bang (Redemption Ridge #7)

Chapter One

Sven

A martini glass with pale pink liquid landed on the bar in front of me before I’d even planted my ass on the stool. I looked up into the smiling eyes of my favorite bartender and knew a trip to the Thirsty Cowboy had been the right decision. The music was loud, the hunks were aplenty, and the only thing flowing faster than the pheromones was the alcohol. Just the distraction I needed.

“This must be a record, Joe.” I saluted him with the Royal Cosmopolitan before taking a sip. Champagne turned an ordinary Cosmo into something extraordinary. Bubbles danced on my tongue and put a shimmy in my shoulders. “Thank you, my prince.”

Joe chuckled and shook his head. “I can’t take full credit. Your drink is compliments of the gentleman. He told me to make your favorite cocktail before you’d even made it to the bar.”

He gestured to a dark-haired guy across from me. With his head down and overlong bangs shielding his face, I couldn’t read his expression. How curious that he hadn’t waited for my reaction when Joe presented his gift. Was it buyer’s remorse or low self-esteem? Hunched shoulders suggested he carried a hefty burden on them. Maybe his battered bomber jacket was as heavy as it appeared, but the stranger gave off Atlas vibes to me. A familiar twang vibrated in my chest as if invisible fingers strummed my heartstrings.

Oh no. Not again. Yet I found myself asking. “Who is he, and what’s his deal?”

Joe shrugged. “Cross the bar and find out.” And with that, the cute bartender winked and moved on.

There was no way in hell I was going to do that. I’d wait for the guy to look up, and I’d mouth a thank-you from a safe distance. Until then, I planned to scan the bar for a man who could distract me from my troubles, not contribute to them. A cursory glance yielded a few prospects, but the broody guy kept drawing my attention like an annoying magnet. The latest peek revealed the stranger had raised his head a little higher. I was closer to thanking him and moving on with my night. But then he notched his chin up more. I went from “hell no” to “hello” in a heartbeat. Hot damn, the man was disheveled in the sexiest way. Dark scruff covered a square jaw that made a comic superhero’s chin look weak. His mouth looked full and soft, even in its down-turned state. Damn, I loved kissable lips and wanted to turn the frown upside down.

I must’ve stared too long because hot and broody lifted his gaze to meet mine. Oh. My. God. Light eyes and dark hair were my favorite combo, and the maelstrom of emotion hovering near him like Pigpen’s dirt cloud only added to his magnetism. The guy was definitely wrestling with personal demons, and judging by the look of it, he was losing the battle. For a fleeting second, I wanted to cross the room, take up a sword, and help him fight. Okay, I wanted to kiss him better. But I kept my ass firmly on the stool. No matter what ailed Broody, I wasn’t the salvation he needed.

“Are you from around here?”

The question came from the guy sitting on my right. When I’d arrived, every stool had been taken, and a hunky cowboy had surrendered his seat to me. I’d thanked him with my trademark charm and received a malicious glare from his boyfriend, who sat on the stool beside mine. I’d yet to meet a man worth fighting over and had quickly diffused the situation with a compliment. And now, his cowboy boyfriend was nowhere in sight, and my neighbor wanted to be friendly. I turned my head and met his cool blue eyes once more. This time, they were curious as they raked over my body. This was not my first rodeo, so I had a pretty good feeling of where the conversation was going, though the guy would benefit from better small talk to warm up a prospective third. I’d enjoyed threesomes when I was younger, but Blue Eyes wasn’t built for it. He’d wanted to take me down earlier just for smiling at his man. What did he think would happen if I wrapped my lips around said boyfriend’s cock? I liked my face arranged the way it was.

“No, thanks.” I grabbed my drink and slid off the stool.

My gaze collided with Mr. Broody’s across the bar again. He sat up straighter and attempted a smile that looked more like a grimace. Bless his heart. Would it kill me to thank him in person for my drink? I’d give him two minutes tops before moving on. Broody leaned toward his neighbor and said something that made him slide off his stool and walk away. Someone else moved to sit there, but Broody smacked his hand down before their ass could land. It looked like they might argue, so I hastened my pace before things got out of hand. Broody’s gaze tracked my every step, but he didn’t relinquish his hold.

“Excuse me,” I said to the man who was trying to wrestle the stool away from Broody. “I believe that’s my seat.”

“Bullshit.” The tawny-haired man spun around with a sneer on his face. He was prepared to argue with me until I dazzled him with my best smile. He grinned over at Broody and slapped him on the shoulder. “My bad, buddy.”

I set my precious Cosmo on the bar and climbed onto the stool. An intoxicating smell of leather and bourbon tickled my nose. Was it Broody’s cologne or a combination of his bomber jacket and the amber liquid in his glass? “I thought there was going to be a fight there for a second.”

Broody raked his pale green gaze over the outfit I’d chosen with care. The cropped baby blue cashmere sweater was incredibly soft and showed off a tantalizing amount of midriff. Jeans with strategically frayed holes hugged my ass like a second skin and left nothing to the imagination. “Bet you’re used to that,” Broody replied when his eyes met mine again. His voice, thick and rich, held a hint of accusation that got under my skin.

I straightened my spine and searched for a proper scathing rebuttal, but my anger stalled out before I could land on one. Damn, he was gorgeous. The dark stubble was thicker than I first thought and looked rough enough to grate my nerves into confetti or leave delicious marks on my inner thighs. Full lips curved into a wry grin. So much better than his first attempt to smile. I had a pressing desire to lean forward and test their softness. Eyes the color of matcha locked in on my bare midriff, and I had to fight the urge to preen.

No, no, no. I’m irritated with him. “You think I like men fighting over me?” My frosty tone had those gorgeous eyes snapping up to meet mine.

A thick, dark brow arched upward until it disappeared beneath a swoop of unruly bangs. I longed to get this man into my salon chair for some serious grooming. “Don’t you?” Broody asked.

“Noooo,” I said. “That bullshit is for insecure drama queens, not confident kings. I’m here for a drink and a hard fuck.” I lifted my martini glass from the bar and took a sip before setting it back down. “You’ve taken care of the first part, thank you very much, and now I’m curious to hear what you think about the second.”

“Wow.”

“Wow?” I repeated. “I can’t tell if you’re impressed or baffled.”

Broody shrugged his broad shoulders, which pulled my attention to the rest of his body. It was hard to see what he had going on beneath that bomber jacket, but his thick thighs were perfection, and the bulge between them was definitely promising. I didn’t need the guy to like me as long as he made me come. “You have definitely made an impression on me.” A wolfish expression replaced the downtrodden visage I’d first noticed.

“Likewise,” I replied coolly.

Broody chuckled and shook his head. “You’re sitting here because you didn’t find someone better when you scanned the bar for a better candidate than the mope who bought you a drink.”

I could only blink for a few seconds. Was this guy for real, or was his wounded-soul vibe a ploy? And where had he learned his covert observation skills? The CIA? Broody must’ve taken my silence as a confirmation of his claim. His lips flattened into a grim line, and the expression in his gaze dulled once more.

“It’s okay,” he said. “I’m not too proud to accept a pity fuck right now.” So his demeanor hadn’t been a ploy. This guy was damaged goods, my personal Kryptonite. Broody broke eye contact and took a sip of his beer. “Forget it. This was a dumb idea.”

I scooted my stool closer and tucked my legs between his thighs. The heat rolling off his body made me want to press against him and purr like a kitten. I drew a heart just above his knee instead. “It doesn’t have to be.”

Broody set his beer down and gripped my hips with powerful hands. The pressure and heat of his fingers quickened my pulse until sympathy was the last thing on my mind. The music switched from something fast and pulsing to something slow and sexy. “Do you like dancing?”

“I love it.”

He cocked his head toward the dance floor. “Do you want to dance?”

I shook my head. “I’m happy right here.”

Broody tugged my stool forward until I was within kissing distance. I couldn’t stop staring at his mouth as it slowly descended. I wasn’t sure if I had closed the distance or if he had, but nothing mattered when his warm lips pressed against mine. The kiss was tentative at first, chaste and dry. I lifted my hand and fisted the hair at his nape, showing him I meant business. Broody’s lips parted, and I took advantage of the opportunity, sweeping my tongue inside his mouth with the same confidence I did everything. Broody tensed briefly, then matched my energy with a sexy little growl. I kept one hand in his hair and rested my other on his thigh. Broody’s hands slid from my hips down to cup my ass. I had the feeling he was about to haul me into his lap right there at the bar. Did I care? Not really.

I wrapped my lips around his tongue and sucked. Then I slid my hand higher up his thigh until my fingertips grazed against Broody Jr. Damn, the dude was hung. There was no doubt in either of our minds where our night was headed. We went at it heavily, and I lost sense of time and place. I just knew my dick was as hard as a pike, and we’d only petted each other over our clothes. The music tempo changed again. Had we kissed through one song or two? I sucked Broody’s tongue again and traced the outline of his erection with my finger.

It was time to move someplace more private, especially when someone shouted, “No fucking way!”

I knew that voice as well as my own, and I ignored it. My brother, Kerry, was not going to cockblock me again. Broody tightened his grip on my ass, and I was glad to see he was just as determined.

“Stop tongue-fucking and ass-grabbing my brother, Dom!” Kerry yelled.

Broody jerked back so fast he nearly toppled off the chair, and since he didn’t let go of my ass, he pulled me with him.

Kerry, the troublemaking asshole, gripped us both by the shoulders and pulled us apart. “No way. Huh-uh. Not happening.”

Broody looked between Kerry and me, his expression growing more confused by the minute until something must’ve clicked in his brain. Green eyes widened. In horror or surprise, I couldn’t be sure. “Oh man, I forgot you had a stepbrother.”

Blood didn’t define family, and Kerry was my brother in every way that counted. My dad married Lucinda when I was eight years old and Kerry was sixteen. He’d taken his role as protector very seriously, and old habits died hard. Annoying asshole. Then it hit me that Kerry had addressed Broody by name. Dom. Alarms were going off in my head. Dominic Babb? As in Kerry’s best friend since elementary school? I studied Broody for any signs of the easygoing guy who’d hung out at our house all the time but came up empty. Then again, I hadn’t seen him since the summer after Dom and Kerry graduated from high school. That was twenty years ago, and I’d only been ten. No wonder he hadn’t recognized me either.

“Stevie, right?”

I managed not to groan at that old nickname. “No one calls me that anymore. I go by Sven.”

“Sven?” Dom asked in disbelief.

“One of our second cousins couldn’t say Steven when he was little and called me Sven. It just stuck.”

“I can’t believe it,” Dom said.

“I can’t believe you’re still groping my brother’s ass,” Kerry snarled.

“Oops!” Dom jerked his hands back.

“Now your turn, Sven,” Kerry warned.

I’d maintained my hand in Dom’s hair and left my fingers near his dick. I turned my head and hit Kerry with a glare that would quell most men. Not my brick house of a brother. “And why should I? We’re both consenting adults, Kerry. Go away.”

“I’ll tell you why,” Kerry replied. “Dom is in the middle of a nasty divorce, and he’s a hot mess.”

Dom flinched but didn’t bother denying it.

“And you,” Kerry said, rounding on me. “There’s nothing you love more than nursing the walking wounded back to life. Have you learned nothing from past mistakes?”

“Hey,” Dom protested weakly. “Walking wounded is a bit harsh.”

Kerry crossed his arms over his massive chest. “Tell me I’m wrong.”

Dom shrugged and dropped his gaze. “He’s not wrong.”

I leaned forward and rested my hand on Dom’s leg, keeping it clean since Kerry was hovering. “It’s true I want to tuck you into bed, but not to feed you chicken soup and read you a book. I’m more of a Fuckingale than Nightingale.” I wanted to ride that enormous cock and allowed my gaze to broadcast my thoughts.

Dom let out a soft groan and leaned toward me.

“No!” Kerry barked. “I forbid it.”

Dom grimaced and removed my hand from his leg. “Kerry is one of my oldest friends. As much as I want to ignore him, I can’t. I’m sorry.”

I recognized defeat when staring it in the eye. Kerry looked so damn smug that I wanted to kick him. I slid off the stool and grabbed my drink off the bar. “Thanks for the Cosmo.”

“Thanks for reminding me I still have a pulse.”

I looked up at Kerry and said, “I don’t know when or how, but I’m going to make you pay for this.”

I sauntered off without a backward glance, but I didn’t need one to know Dom watched me. I felt the intensity of his stare. Another vacant seat opened up, and I met a few promising candidates for a night of fun, but my gaze always strayed back to Dom. He talked to Kerry for a while before my brother patted his shoulder and walked away. Had Kerry found someone to end his night with, or had he just moved on? Dom chatted up a few other guys, but he didn’t seem as engaged with them as he’d been with me. I tried not to let it go to my head, but I still tingled from the kisses we shared.

When it became obvious Kerry wasn’t coming back, I hatched a plan. What my brother didn’t know wouldn’t hurt him. I wanted Dom, and his raging erection had revealed that he’d wanted me too. We could share one night, and Kerry would never need to know. If Dom left the bar by himself, I’d follow and make an offer I hoped he wouldn’t refuse. Around midnight, I got my chance. I tried not to be too obvious about my intentions and gave Dom a huge head start before I followed him.

The temperatures had dropped significantly since my arrival. I’d left my coat in the car because bulky outerwear would’ve ruined my look. Choosing vanity over comfort just might be the death of me someday. Then I saw Dom heading toward a sketchy white minivan in a dark corner of the parking lot. Was he a serial killer or a soccer dad? Neither thing appealed to me, and I couldn’t decide which prospect was worse. I’d nearly changed my mind when a gust of wind raked its icy fingers over my bare abdomen. Then I remembered the heat rolling off Dom’s body, his powerful grip on my ass, and the feel of strong thighs under his jeans. And that dick. I stepped up my pace so I didn’t miss out on my chance.

“This isn’t a good idea,” Dom called over his shoulder without so much as a backward glance.

“All the more reason to do it.”