Chapter 1 #2
“Finn,” he supplied, his voice a low rasp that sparked across my skin and settled deep in my belly, pooling heat in my core.
“Suits you.”
The answer to the question I’d asked myself earlier was a resounding yes. I was absolutely flirting.
“How so?”
I shrugged. “Sexy name for a hot guy.”
He ducked until we were eye level. “Pot, meet kettle.”
I’d never blushed a day in my life, but under his bright blue gaze, my cheeks flamed.
Awkwardly clearing my throat because I had no appropriate response to that, I deflected by saying, “So how about that drink?”
Another smirk tilted his full lips, surely remembering the one he’d already gotten me that I’d abandoned untouched. “Lead the way.”
The crowd parted like the Red Sea around us, easily paving the way to the bar, likely in deference to the large man behind me. He didn’t touch me, but I could feel his hand hovering near my back, ready to reach for me if the need arose.
The bartender smirked. “You can’t stay away, can you?”
Finn grinned. “Not from you.”
My brow creased, annoyed to find him flirting with her right in front of me—and further annoyed for being annoyed in the first place.
What the fuck was going on with me?
“Round for my brothers, except—”
“Yeah, Finn,” she said, cutting him off with an eye roll. “Except Crew, I know.” Then she looked at me. “And for you?”
“Whatever they’re having is fine with me.”
“Six IDs, coming right up.” When we didn’t move, she shooed us away. “Go. I’ll bring ‘em over. You’re takin’ up space we ain’t got.”
Finn chuckled, then grabbed my hand. He stared at me in surprise, like he hadn’t meant to.
But when he tried to pull his hand away, I held fast, giving him a reassuring smile.
He returned it before heading toward the back corner, skirting the dance floor and towing me along behind him.
I told myself I wanted to hold his hand because it made following him easier than trying to fight through the crowd myself.
Really, though, that was a lie.
Secretly, I loved the way my nerve endings lit up with his touch. My whole body was electrified, making me feel more alive than I had in months.
“What’s an ID?” I asked, loud enough to be heard over the din.
“Local brew,” he replied over his shoulder. “Hope you like IPAs!”
I didn’t, but I wasn’t about to tell him that.
I’d find a way to choke it down. Growing up in the south, my manners had been drilled into me from a young age.
If this sexy ass man was buying me a drink, I’d say, “thank you” and finish the whole damn thing with a smile on my face.
Especially since I’d already wasted the first one.
Maybe I wasn’t quite the southern belle Mama and Daddy had raised anymore, but there were some things I’d never shake.
“The prodigal son returns!” someone, who I couldn’t yet see around Finn’s massive body, yelled before we’d even reached the table. Though we were out of the thick of the crowd, we still had a perfect view of the stage and the people line dancing to “Fake ID” by Big & Rich.
“You and your fucking hero complex,” a different man said.
“Don’t you know, little bro?” Finn responded. “The hero always gets the girl.”
“Don’t call me that. And if you got her, where is she?”
Finn stepped to the side, giving me a full view of the table full of ridiculously good-looking men. These must’ve been his brothers and, damn, the genes in this family didn’t fuck around.
“Everyone, meet Reagan. Reagan, these are my brothers,” Finn confirmed.
“Owen, the oldest.” He pointed at one sitting at the end of the long, rectangular table, a backward ball cap settled on his head, his sandy blond hair long enough to brush his shoulders.
Something about him was vaguely familiar, but I couldn’t put my finger on what.
“Trey, second oldest.” Trey’s hair was short on the sides and long on the top.
He was more leanly muscled than the others, but equally as tall and with the same shade of hair and eyes. “Lane.”
“That’s Sheriff to you,” the guy said, his muscles rivaling Finn’s. Every inch of skin I could see from where the sleeves of his tee strained against his biceps down to the words “love free” across his knuckles was covered in ink.
“You’ve had the title for like three days,” Finn retorted. Then he murmured to me, “You don’t have to call him that.”
“We all call him a pain in the ass,” one of the two remaining brothers said happily, earning him a slap on the back of the head from the sheriff.
When I turned my attention to him, I gasped, doing a comical double take between him and Finn.
Finn grinned, and his his twin said, “Surprise! I’m West, his better half.”
Sighing heavily through his nose, Finn pinched his eyes shut and tilted his head back, as though praying for strength. “How many times do I have to tell you, dipshit? That doesn’t mean what you think it means.”
“As many times as you want,” West said. “I’m never going to stop saying it.”
“I should’ve eaten you in the womb.”
As though sensing a fight was brewing, the final guy rose from the table and extended a hand to me. Same hair, same eyes, tall, muscular build, only the upper half of his left arm engulfed in tattoos.
“I’m Crew,” he said as we shook. “The youngest of these idiots.”
“Nice to meet you all,” I said, feeling a tad shell-shocked.
What had I gotten myself into?
A lot of fun, as it turned out.
When the bartender arrived with a tray of drinks for me and the boys, they slipped easily into the sort of not-so-gentle ribbing and shorthand only possible between siblings.
Sitting next to Finn, I watched it all, wishing Lainey had stayed to experience it with me.
I found myself marveling at the sheer gorgeousness of these men.
How was it possible that their parents had created not one or two, but six stunning creatures?
With the muscles, tattoos, mesmerizing blue eyes, and straight, white smiles, it was clear to me they’d each left a trail of women with broken hearts in their wake.
Was I about to be another one?
Honestly? I fucking hoped so.
Lainey and I were leaving town in the morning. This didn’t have to be anything more than a good night of sexy fun.
The band, which had been playing a mixture of throwback and recent country hits, launched into their rendition of “The Bones” by Maren Morris.
“I love this song,” I murmured, closing my eyes and swaying to the beat, softly singing the words.
In addition to the beers, we’d taken several shots of tequila, and that delicious buzz had settled over me, loosening my limbs.
A touch fell on my shoulder, and my eyes popped open, immediately connecting with Finn’s.
He held his hand out. “Let’s dance.”
Like hell was I about to say no.
I slipped my palm against his, and he led me out onto the floor.
We found ourselves right in the middle of the couples already dancing.
A few of Finn’s brothers had also made their way out.
Lane was nearby with his arms wrapped around a brunette of average height, her curled hair a long curtain that fell to her butt.
Beyond him, Trey was laughing with a tall blonde in his arms. Owen and Crew had remained at the table, and West had disappeared a while ago.
Finn drew me into his embrace, his hands sliding low on my hips, fingers spreading wide against the upper curve of my ass.
For once, I was grateful for my own height, because I easily looped my arms around his neck.
He settled his cheek against my temple, and we gently stepped side to side, swaying in a small circle.
Goddesses, it felt good to be wrapped in someone’s arms again—but, inexplicably, especially his. Strong, sturdy, and incredibly warm. I barely knew him, yet I knew without a doubt I was safe with him.
As that sense of safety spread through my system, it morphed into something totally different.
Desire.
I wanted this man. In a bone-deep way.
As if able to read my thoughts, Finn’s fingers flexed, digging into my flesh, scorching my skin through the thin material of my dress. Though no space remained between us as it was, he pulled me closer. His heart beat out a staccato rhythm against his chest, echoing the pace of my own.
“Finn,” I breathed, shifting to look up at him.
Our lips were inches apart.
“Let’s get out of here.”
“Fuck yes.”