Chapter 2 #2
An ice-cold Corona was in my near future.
This morning, I actively sought air conditioning, glad the weekend revelry was coming to an end. I needed sleep and maybe a day off. Like that ever happened. Still, it was nice to dream.
I had grown up in this bar, working in some capacity or another since I was able to walk.
The dreams of a life outside of this bar faded many years ago.
My grandfather had died, my parents were aging, and now, my sister and I ran the place.
That was a challenge in itself. Lori was just so damned hard to get along with. Ready to spit fire at any given moment.
As I went from helping a customer load alcohol into the back of a pickup truck, I reached down to the battered, broken pavement, grabbing an empty beer can and tossing it in a wide mouth, old barrel trash can.
Swoosh, cleared. Nothing but net. Professional basketball. My childhood dream, only replaced by the rodeo after I reached an age of understanding.
“Mace, I’m leavin’,” Alice, the woman who cooked enough eggs and bacon to feed a small army, said. “I left a shoppin’ list. I can call it in if you need me to.”
“No, I’ve got it. Thanks for all the meals this weekend,” I said, going for another couple of empty beer bottles lying discarded after last night’s end of the holiday weekend celebration.
The city’s cleanup crew was in overdrive, cleaning the trash littered all over the roads.
They’d find their way back here eventually.
If it took much longer, I was sure to be fighting off every bug and bee in the area.
=?=
Slade
“Holy hell! I’ve never seen the likes of that around here before.” Wyatt’s sudden commotion caused me to press the brakes again, glancing around for the object that had gained his entire attention.
“Sit down, you fool,” Scout yelled.
It took a second more for me to cut my gaze in the direction of Wyatt’s, only then spotting the handsome guy picking up trash, close to the back door of the saloon.
Yeah, the guy garnered all of my focus too.
The physical connection was instant and severe. My mouth dried, my senses dulled to my surroundings as everything inside me locked on the vibrance of the man. He was stunning, not Hollywood-standard pretty, but in a wilderness, rugged, sun-kissed way.
Man, I seconded Wyatt’s outburst.
My body hardened instantly.
The hottie with short shorts and strong defined legs hadn’t noticed us until Wyatt let out an ear-splitting catcall whistle. But that ridiculous behavior drew his attention.
He turned, eyes squinting and brows dropping at the commotion from our Jeep. His muscular biceps flexed. I wondered what that meant.
As far as I was concerned, Wyatt didn’t stand a chance. To me, our gazes connected and held. The world slowed to almost still. I absorbed blow after blow of primal attraction. My dick went painfully hard then pulsed as I stared at my exact opposite of a man.
The guy appeared to be put out, or something other than the extreme interest I had racing throughout my body.
Didn’t matter. I hadn’t had this kind of reaction to anyone in a very long time.
My grip on the steering wheel tightened, and my belly flipped.
Every cell in my being insisted I turn on the charm to get this guy alone.
Two heartbeats later, the dumb thing banged with the force of a violent thunderstorm, thumping around my chest erratically.
Thankfully, my core sense of reasoning had me taking giant emotional steps backward. My instinct said there was more to my reaction than carnal, arousing sexual desire.
Screw that.
My mouth watered with anticipation.
Sounds trickled past my tunnel vision. As if from a distance, I heard Scout slapping at Wyatt’s legs, telling him to sit down.
My sole focus locked on the strong masculine face of an angel that wouldn’t let me go.
I glanced down, following the line of his body, checking for any visual signs of a lengthy cock.
As the world zipped back in place, I spotted the older woman standing in the doorframe of the building. Above her hung a hand-painted sign with the words Liquor Store.
Without conscious thought, my gaze landed on the guy again. It had been a really long time since I’d experienced such a visceral reaction.
Seconds later, the earth settled back under the Jeep and I amended my thought. This angel of a man had a frown that indicated he wasn’t near as overwhelmed as me.
“Who’s that?” I asked as if the guys would have any idea.
Tall, strong jaw, great lips, and summer-tanned good looks. He had a scar in his eyebrow, separating the hair.
His long, confident stride oozed a sex appeal I doubted he even understood he had as he took steps toward us. I eased my foot off the brake to allow us to move closer at a slow speed.
“I’m leavin’. I’ll be back for the lunch crowd,” the woman called at his back. “I’ll place the food order when I get home. I’ll text you the delivery time.”
The guy only lifted his right hand in a thumbs-up gesture. His other hand reached for the Oakley-style sunglasses holding his curly hair in place, dropping them over his eyes. The glasses fit perfectly.
His purposeful gait turned casual as he came within five feet of the Jeep.
“Claim,” I said low enough that Scout and Wyatt had to hear, but not the guy.
I continued to openly stare. Those thick lips were full and inviting with another slight scar lining the width of the bottom lip. The rich auburn lowlights in his chestnut locks had the nickname Red coming to mind, permanently etching the moment inside my brain.