Bound By Fire (The Stone Legacy #4)

Chapter 1

Robyn

“Do we have to?” I ask as Carla loops her arm through mine and tugs me down the sidewalk. “We already had dinner…aaaaannnnd a whole bottle of bubbles. I’m sure that qualifies as celebrating.”

“One bottle of champagne split between two women over a whole dinner, including dessert, does not qualify.” Carla doesn’t slow down. “Besides, we have two promotions to celebrate, and you want to go home to your sofa. It’s not even nine yet. Live a little.”

“There’s this romance novel that recently came out from my favorite author that I’m dying to get into. My promotion brings a ton of responsibility. I’m nervous about it, and already tired thinking about all the work.”

“Your promotion only kicks in next month. You’re off duty this weekend.”

“I’m panicking. I want to rest and replenish.”

“You’ll rock as Head of Shifter Medicine.” She squeezes my arm. “You have the whole weekend to relax. Do you know what will help with your nerves?”

“A bubble bath?” I sound skeptical.

“A cocktail at The Wing and Claw. We are going to drink at least two of them, and you are going to remember that you are a human woman with blood in her veins.”

“Maybe if you change it to a Cosmo or two, you’ll twist my arm. Then again—”

She winks at me. “We can make it a Cosmopolitan or two…no problem. Consider your arm to be well and truly twisted.”

I groan because she’s right and because I did actually promise a night out when she accepted the PA position.

She earned it. Carla has been running the admin side of the main hospital with an iron-clad fist for the last year, and the moment I got this new role, I pulled her up with me.

I could not do this job without her. I do not intend to try.

“One drink,” I say. “Then I’m calling it and going to bed.”

“Three.”

I gasp. “No way.”

“Yes, way.”

“Okay, fine…two drinks, but that is my final offer.”

She laughs. “Done.”

The Wing and Claw sits on a corner two blocks from my apartment.

It’s a quaint bar, complete with wood paneling, low ceilings, and a long, gleaming dark wood bar.

It’s the kind of place that looks small from the outside and swallows a hundred and fifty people without effort.

Tonight, there is noise pouring out of it before we even reach the door.

When Carla pulls it open, the wall of sound hits me in the face.

There’s music, laughter, and the low hum of conversation.

“It’s too busy,” I shout. “Can’t we go somewhere else?”

“It’s perfect and exactly what we need,” Carla says, smiling.

She steers me through the crowd toward the bar.

Bodies part around her. I follow in her wake, trying not to clip anyone with my bag.

The bar itself is two people deep, with three bartenders running around trying to fill the orders.

It takes a few minutes before a bartender with a tattoo of a snake on his neck takes our order.

He’s working two taps and a cocktail shaker at the same time, eyes on us.

“Two Cosmos,” Carla calls. “Make them strong.”

“Make mine normal,” I shout.

He gives me a grin that says he’s going to ignore me and starts mixing as soon as he hands out the drinks he poured.

The bright pink cocktails arrive in martini glasses with a twist of lemon riding the rim. Carla clinks hers against mine.

“To the Head of Shifter Medicine,” she says.

“To the best PA on the island.”

“Damn right.”

We drink. It is very cold and sweet, meaning it goes down too easily. I have had three sips when something thumping blares through the speakers and Carla shrieks.

“This is my song.” Her eyes widen. “We have to dance.”

“Carla, no! I agreed to drinks. I—”

“This is my song, Robyn, this is absolutely my song. Put your drink down right now, we’re going.”

“I don’t like dancing. We—”

She already has my wrist. She puts both our drinks on the bar, gives the bartender a look that promises she will personally hunt him down if either glass moves, and drags me onto the dance floor.

Carla can dance, so I do my best to keep up, and to my surprise, I’m laughing before the chorus hits. It has been a long time since I went out.

When the song ends, she tows me back to the bar. Our drinks are still there. The bartender winks at me when I catch his eye.

“See?” Carla’s eyes glint. “That was fun, wasn’t it? Are you still mad at me?”

“I was never mad at you.”

“You were bordering on mad.”

“I was bordering on tired. There’s a difference.”

I glance over her shoulder. There’s a guy a few feet down the other side of the bar, leaning on his elbow. His gaze is firmly on Carla. I don’t blame him. She looks gorgeous in her tight, black dress. It’s short too, showing off her long, toned legs.

I hate her almost as much as I love her.

I, on the other hand, am in a plain black top and a pair of black jeans. Nothing special.

It’s not like I came out to pick anyone up. I don’t have much time for dating. Maybe in a year or two. Once I have my new position knuckled down.

The guy keeps staring.

“What is it?” Carla asks.

“Don’t turn now—” I say.

She turns.

“Carla!”

“You should never say that to someone because it’s what they always end up doing.”

“That’s stupid,” I whisper.

“It may be stupid, but it’s also true.”

“Whatever. There’s a guy staring you down like you’re a tasty treat and he hasn’t eaten in a week.”

She starts to turn again.

“Don’t! You idiot.” I laugh.

She grins, then lowers her voice. “I didn’t get a good enough look. Which one is it? White shirt or the one in the gray?”

“Gray. By the pillar.”

She takes her time over a sip of her drink before letting her eyes drift. Whatever passes between her and the guy at the pillar, it happens in under a second. She turns back to me with her cheeks a fraction pinker than they were.

“Okaaaaaay then,” she says. “He’s cuuuuuuuuute!”

“And definitely checking you out.”

She takes another sip. Then she looks back. “Oh my. His friend is not bad either. Actually, I think he might be even better looking. You should totally check him out.”

I do not want to check anyone out. Against everything in me, my eyes move in that direction anyway.

The friend is leaning on the bar right next to Gray Shirt.

He has a bottle of beer in one hand and is scowling like he wants to hit someone.

He’s freaking enormous. His shoulders are stretching his white shirt to the limits.

The sleeves are rolled to the elbow, giving me a good view of his ink and his really strong forearms. There’s something about a man with good forearms. His dark hair is long, past his shoulders, the way a lot of the island males wear it. He’s pretty darned spectacular.

I realize I have been looking for too long when his friend clocks me doing it and leans in to say something. The big one’s gaze flicks up and finds mine.

Crap!

I jerk my eyes back to my drink.

Gray Shirt pushes off the bar.

“Shit, shit, shit!” I mutter.

“What?”

“They’re coming over.”

“They are not.”

“They are absolutely coming over. We should run.”

“We are not running.” Carla giggles. “Keep calm. It’s fine,” she adds.

It’s so not fine at all because they’re coming over. I can see them in the mirror behind the bar, weaving through the bodies, Gray Shirt in front, White Shirt a half-step behind. Gray Shirt is smiling. White Shirt is not. If anything, his scowl is worse.

“Ladies.” Gray Shirt arrives first, hand already extended toward Carla. “I’m Flint. Please let me buy you a drink,” he asks Carla.

“I’m Carla.” She giggles. “I would love another Cosmo.” She holds up her empty glass.

His eyes stay on Carla. “It’s really good to meet you. One Cosmo coming right up.” Then he catches himself. “Oh…um…hi,” he says to me, holding out his hand. “I’m Flint, and this is Ridge.” He gestures to White Shirt guy, who is even bigger right in front of me.

“Ridge.” I say the name because it’s a good one, and because the man attached to it has stopped a foot from me and has not said anything yet. “I’m Robyn. And this is Carla…which you know already.”

I’m blabbering. I force myself to stop.

“Hi.” Carla beams, waving at Ridge, even though he’s standing right there. She manages to look cute doing it.

“Can I get you a Cosmo, Robyn?” Flint asks as he starts to shove his way to the bar.

“I’m good,” I yell, holding up my still half-full glass.

“Evening, ladies.” Ridge’s voice is deep and rough. His eyes are an unusual gray-green. I’m not sure which dominates. His mouth quirks up at one side for a second, and then it’s gone.

I have to tilt my head back to meet his eyes.

“Um…hi.”

“Do you guys come here often?”

“No,” Ridge says.

“Why not?” Carla asks. “Do you live in the area?”

Ridge shakes his head.

A male of few words…clearly.

“Here you go,” Flint says, handing a cocktail to Carla, who looks relieved he’s back.

“That was quick.” She smiles, taking the glass and drinking down a healthy sip. “I love this song.” She whoops, her hips swaying.

Flint gives her an easy smile. “Would you like to dance?”

Carla turns to me. “Should we go?” She lifts her brows in a hopeful way.

“You go,” I say. “I’m good.” I nod. “I’m happy to stay here sipping my drink.” I hold up my half-full glass.

“Are you sure? I can stay and hang with you.”

“Go, already. I’m a big girl.”

She winks at me and looks over at Ridge.

I roll my eyes. As if.

“I’ll be right over there.” She gestures to the dance floor.

I nod. “Have fun.”

Flint puts a hand on the small of her back, and she lets him guide her into the crowd. I watch them go because it is easier than looking at the man next to me.

They start dancing, and both of them are really great. Carla knows every damned word to this song.

I smile, watching them.

“I’m going to grab another drink,” Ridge says, leaning toward me to talk in my ear. “Can I get you one?”

He smells darned good. Too good. Like he just stepped out of a shower.

“Oh.” I glance at my glass, which is somehow nearly empty. “That would be nice. Thank you.”

“Same again?”