Chapter 2 #2
“Boss man! You changed your mind.” He loosens his hold on the woman, his gaze cutting to his left where Beau stands with his hand up some girl’s skirt.
“Beau! Rhett! Look who decided to join us after all.” He glances back at the woman smiling up at him.
“You got another friend for my boss, sweetheart?”
Gritting my teeth, I shake my head. “I’m not here to pick up a woman, jackass. I’m here to take you fools home.” I glance at the woman hanging on his arm. “Sorry, darlin’, but he’ll have to get your number. It’s past his bedtime.”
The girl giggles, her gaze bouncing between me and Grant. When my face remains impassive, she glances back at Grant.
“Is he serious?”
“Dead serious,” I clip.
Grant’s eyes narrow, and he sways slightly on his feet as he inches closer, dropping his voice to a whisper. “Bro, are you cockblocking me right now?”
“Call it whatever you like, but we’re out of here.” My eyes flit past his head, and I scan the room again. “Where the hell is Wyatt?”
“Amelia tied him up after he broke the mechanical bull.” He lifts his beer, pausing before he takes a swig. “Is that why you’re here, ruining my good time?”
Ignoring his question, I bring my gaze back to him. “What do you mean Amelia tied him up?”
He shrugs. “She wasn’t too pleased, especially after he tried to fix the bull and wound up breaking the motor.
” He takes a long pull of his beer, bringing the girl closer to him.
“Then he got into a fight with one of the locals. She had to get back to tending the bar, so she tied him to one of the stools. Last I saw him, he was taking bets on whether he could tie a cherry stem with his tongue or not. He’s probably still over there. ”
Jesus Christ.
I scratch the scruff lining my jaw, my gaze sliding back to him. “I’m going to get him. Say goodbye to your friend and gather the rest of the guys. I’ll meet you in the parking lot in ten.”
“But—”
“No fucking buts, Grant. Ten minutes. That’s all you got.”
Then without another word, I make my way toward the bar.
Grant wasn’t lying about Wyatt being tied up, and if I wasn’t so fucking mad, I might be impressed by the crowd circling him, cheering him on as he bends his head and plucks another cherry from the bowl sitting on top of the bar.
I watch as he throws his head back, his jaw sliding from side to side as he works the stem into a knot.
“He’s made sixty dollars so far. If you leave him here for a couple of days, he might be able to cover the damages himself.”
At the sound of Amelia’s voice, I tear my gaze away from the spectacle Wyatt’s creating.
My brown eyes lock with hers, and I swear to Christ, all the air leaves my lungs.
Those eyes… those fucking eyes. Such an extraordinary shade of brown, flecked and ringed with gold and framed by naturally long lashes.
I used to look into those soft eyes and see so much trust. So much fucking love. Now they’re hard, and weary.
Emotionless.
Clearing my throat, I shake my head. “If I leave him here, I’m afraid he’ll rack up an even bigger bill.”
She hums, seeming to agree with me, then tears her gaze away, focusing on the patron in front of me.
She pushes a round of shots in his direction, and while he reaches into his pocket to pay for them, I take the time to catalog her features.
Her hair is longer than it used to be, but it’s just as thick and shiny.
I used to love running my fingers through it.
Spent many nights hiding out in the horse barn at the ranch, doing just that.
I watch as she takes the money from the man, treating him to a flirty smile, and something dark and ugly twists deep inside of me, reminding me of all the reasons I work so hard to avoid her.
That smile…it belonged to me, and it rips me in two watching her give it away to someone who didn’t earn it.
She turns to the register, and my eyes slowly slide down her body.
Amelia was an early bloomer. At sixteen she had big, perky tits, and an ass that was the envy of all the girls in town, and while all that remains, her curves have become more pronounced over the years.
A trim waist and hips wide and soft that make a man want to hold them…
squeeze them. Sink his fucking fingers into the flesh that covers them.
Something I never got to do.
“Maddox! My man,” Wyatt calls from the end of the bar. “I knew you’d come to save me from the Shibari queen. Untie me, please, before I lose any more blood flow.”
Amelia scoffs, pulling my attention back to her. She crosses her arms under her chest, the infamous logo of the bar stretching across her tits as they lift from the movement, revealing a span of cleavage I wouldn’t mind burying my face in.
“You wish,” she calls.
My mind short circuits and I fear I’ve spoken those illicit thoughts aloud, but when my gaze snaps up to her face, I find her glaring at Wyatt. “You’re just mad I can tie a knot better than you.” She glances at me, a pointed expression flitting across her pretty little face. “You should teach him.”
I don’t know if she means it to be a dig or not, but I’m the guy who taught her how to tie a knot.
Come to think of it, I taught her a lot of things about rope.
She used to love the feel of the fibers straining against her wrists and would moan into my mouth as I kissed her while her hands were bound.
I shake my head, dismissing the thought.
“He’s not really my type,” I drawl.
The guy in front of me moves, opening space at the bar, and before I can think better of it, I step forward, inching closer into her orbit.
Her eyes find mine, and her lips purse thoughtfully. “No, I don’t suppose he is.” Releasing a sigh, she uncrosses her arms and braces her hands on the edge of the bar. “He broke my bull. I’m not sure how much it’s going to cost to repair yet.”
“Well, I’m not about to hand you a blank check, so I guess you’re going to have to call me when you have an estimate.”
I don’t hate the idea of her calling me again. A call means I’m going to have to come here and see her again, and that poses a big problem, one I’m suddenly eager to ignore.
“I’ll be sure to hire the most expensive guy I can find to fix it.”
My lips twitch slightly. The sweet, innocent version of Amelia, the version I fell head over boots for, is gone. Life has hardened her, just as it’s done the same to me. But I kinda like this side of her too. Feisty and full of fire. Trying to tame her would be fun as hell.
A loud crash sounds from behind me, and Amelia lets out an exasperated sigh as she stares over my shoulder. When I hear Rhett shouting at someone, I flinch.
“Jesus, Maddox. Your guys are wrecking the joint. Get them the hell out of here.”
Five seconds later a glass shatters, and I know my time with Amelia is up. If I don’t get my men out of here now, I’m going to have to sell a kidney to replace everything they break.
“Yeah. Time to go.” I tap my knuckles on the bar. “Let me know the costs, and I’ll drop off a check during the week.” I realize then that she called me from Wyatt’s phone, and the odds of her having my number aren’t in my favor. “You want to give me your phone so I can plug in my number?”
She pulls her lower lip between her teeth as she stares at me for a beat too long.
“That’s not necessary.”
I quirk an eyebrow. Does that mean she still has my number saved after all these years?
She breaks our stare and clears her throat. “I can just get it from Shadow.”
“Right,” I mutter. Stupid me.
My eyes cut to where Wyatt sits. “Do you want to untie him, or may I?”
Before she can answer me, my phone rings, and I reach into my pocket to retrieve it. A quick glance at the screen makes my brows pinch together. I swipe to accept the call and lift the phone to my ear just as the music starts up again.
“Hello?”
Tyler says something, but I can’t make it out over all the noise.
“Tyler, man, I can’t hear you.” I glance back at Amelia and excuse myself before making my way toward the hall where the bathrooms are. “Sorry, brother—”
“Maddox, man, you need to get back here.” There’s an eerie tone of desperation in his words, and my stomach plummets at the sound of it. For a brief blip in time, I forgot about my responsibilities. I was just a man, lusting after the woman he had lost.
“There’s been an accident,” Tyler rasps. “It’s William.”
Time stands still as I try to process what he’s saying, but before I can, he says the words that are my undoing.
“He’s gone.”