Chapter 10
Chapter Ten
“What’s a sweet little thing like you doin’ in a bar like this?” a deep, drawling voice asks. An unfamiliar man in his early twenties steps closer, his wide chest taking up my entire field of view as he leans against the counter, whiskey in hand.
Beneath the leather and liquor, he smells like a mix of Copenhagen and amber-and-pepper aftershave that makes my nose itch. I crane my neck to glance up at him, noting the desert-camouflage ball cap and the slightly blurry texture of his face.
Damn, the vodka might be hitting me harder than I thought…
“Same thing as you, I expect,” I quip, squinting to see if the blurriness goes away.
A slightly off-white smile spreads across the lower half of his face. “Saw you at the Springs yesterday, figured I’d come introduce myself.” He grabs my empty cup and places it on the counter before taking my hand in his.
“Wait,” I say, brow furrowing as his thumb caresses the top of my hand. “Are you hitting on me?”
Oh, Jesus. I can’t believe I just asked him that out loud…
“I sure am, sweetheart.” He laughs, but it sounds flat, like he’s laughing at me. “Name’s Houston Blackthorne. I’m the new herder at Crowe Ranch.”
A Blackthorne? That’s a hard no for me.
I’m about to tell him to shove off when Isabel’s sing-song voice interrupts my train of thought. “Can I get you two a refill?” She walks back around the bar, grabbing my cup off the counter and gesturing to the liquor shelf behind her.
Houston makes a contemplative humming noise, and I can’t help but notice the shift in his expression—or the slight predatory gleam in his eyes as his gaze bounces between Isabel and me. Like he’s not sure if he picked the right one of us to hit on.
My stomach sours.
“Are you ladies free tonight?” The corner of his mouth twitches. “I heard the fireworks start around nine-thirty.”
Isabel gives him a quizzical look. “Let me know when you want another drink.” She makes pointed eye contact with me before moving away to pour beer from a tap on the opposite end of the bar.
“Looks like it’s just you and me, sweetheart,” Houston says, wrapping a sweaty hand around my waist. “Should we get out of here?”
If I wasn’t so skeeved out, I would laugh. He can’t honestly think that pathetic display was enough to sweep me off my feet, can he?
Some upbeat pop song blasts from the jukebox, and I temporarily forget all about the creep with his arm around me as Noah belts out the first few lines at the top of his lungs and starts dancing like a maniac, using anyone in his immediate vicinity as a stripper pole.
I let loose a small giggle. Will I likely be carrying him home later? One hundred percent. But I think I’ll take Ryker’s advice and let my brother live his life and enjoy the moment.
“Goddamn queer,” Houston mumbles.
As if slapped, my head whips so hard in Houston’s direction that my neck cracks. “Excuse me?” I hiss, already leaning away to stare at him in disbelief, my slight buzz quickly replaced by roiling revulsion as his angular face comes into sharp focus .
I can’t have heard him right. The Crowes would never have hired a bigoted asshole…
Houston takes a sip from his glass, tightening his grip on my waist as he juts his chin toward my brother. “I’ve heard rumors about that guy from some of the ranch hands. It’s fucking unnatural.”
Half in shock that he’s doubling down on his repugnant statement, I track his gaze across the bar to where my brother is dancing next to the mayor in a highly suggestive manner, his entire group of friends laughing their asses off at the blatant way she ignores him.
“What the hell is wrong with you?” I snap at Houston. “Noah’s just having fun, and there’s nothing unnatural about someone’s sexual orientation in the first place.”
My skin crawls as I slide off the rickety stool and attempt to remove his arm from around my waist. But Houston takes advantage of the lack of a seat between us and pulls me closer, his fingers digging painfully into my hip while he smirks and drains his whiskey.
“Relax, sweetheart. I’m not lookin’ for a fight or anything. I’m just sayin’, if that abomination comes within five feet of me, I’ll lay him out. Bop-bop .” He laughs, jostling me as he mimics a double punch with his now-empty glass.
Blood boiling, I push against his ribs to free myself, wincing when his grip becomes bruising. “That’s my brother you’re talking about, asshole ,” I grunt, jabbing my elbow into his side to create some space between us.
“Wait.” His smirk slips into a pronounced look of disappointment, and he finally loosens his hold. “ You’re Willa Dunn? Dammit. The boys warned me not to waste my time with you.”
I should walk away, but morbid curiosity killed the cat. “What the hell does that mean?”
Houston’s grin turns razor sharp. “They told me your daddy’s a cop who’d do anything to protect his perfect virgin angel.” Eyebrow quirked, he reaches down and squeezes my backside. “Something tells me this tight little ass might be worth the trouble, though.”
Every nerve in my body vibrating with rage, I shove him off of me. “I’m way more trouble than you can handle, and I wouldn’t let you touch me if you were the last man on Earth.”
“You’ve got some fight in you. I like that.” He laughs, eating up the distance I worked so hard to create between us in a single step. “I could teach you a thing or two, and I’ll be gentle the first time, promise.”
What. The. Actual. Fuck?
“Hard pass,” I spit, shaking out my hands to rid myself of his vile touch.
This is exactly why I don’t leave the house…
I turn to leave, but Houston grabs my wrist, the bruise on my shoulder screaming in protest as he drags me backward.
“Come on, sweetheart,” he coos, choking my senses with his peppery aftershave. “Let me show you what a night with a real man’s like. I’ll take care of?—”
His words die off abruptly at the sound of approaching footsteps.
“Get your fuckin’ hands off my sister.”