11. Max
ELEVEN
max
Walking into Jack’s behind Stella was a lesson in self-restraint. I found myself completely mesmerized by the elegant way her dress swished rhythmically against her hips with every graceful swing, my jaw practically scraping the floor in awe.
She was stunning in her newfound confidence. I’d found her beautiful from the first day I’d laid eyes on her, but the radiance she exuded now as she strutted those rhinestone boots up to the bar and bent over at the waist to order a drink.
Fuck me, I was a goner.
It had been ages since a woman’s charm and wit had captivated me, leaving me breathless.
Since Shannon’s infidelity, I avoided getting close to anyone for more than a night.
I enjoyed being able to just come and go as I pleased, not having to answer to anyone or their agendas.
It kept me from inevitably getting hurt again.
The accompanying feeling of self-loathing that comes after being cheated on is a beast that’s hard to tame. I learned that it’s better to keep people at arm’s length, so they don’t have the power to hurt you.
Somehow, this spitfire woman on the run and her mini-me, with their fiery spirits and infectious laughter, had wormed their way into my life, slowly melting the ice around my heart. Their orbit drew me in, and I didn’t want to leave.
I sidled up next to Stella at the bar and nodded at the bartender.
Not surprisingly, the bartender’s name was not Jack, it was Hayes.
I’m sure that somewhere out there, there is a manual on small town dive bars that states the name of the bar is not to be in any way related to the owner, bartender, or long-time patrons.
Jack’s had been a staple in Firefly Cove for as long as I could remember.
Not that I remembered much about a bar as a child, but I remember Wade and I sneaking in here with fake IDs in our late teens.
Now, as an adult, I’m hyper aware that there was no sneaking involved.
We’d grown up in this town and everyone knew we were underage.
The bartenders never served us alcohol, but I’m sure they kept an eye on us.
Between the ages of eighteen and twenty-two, Wade and I spent many nights creating chaos and facing consequences in and around Jack’s, marked by the blur of rowdy nights and close calls.
We had spent our twenty-first birthday bellied up to this bar taking tequila shots and promptly scrubbing the floors the next morning when we inevitably puked those same shots all over the dance floor.
Here at Jack’s, surrounded by locals, we learned to line dance on that same worn oak dance floor at the back of the bar.
We’d also attempted, and only sometimes succeeded, to pick up chicks with our cowboy charm over by the pool tables under the neon lights.
We weren’t strangers round these parts, but Stella was. I could feel the heat of all eyes converging on the stunning blonde currently half bent over the bar waiting on a drink, the hem of her dress barely covering her ass.
I tried to appear calm, but the predatory gazes of the men in the dimly lit bar, all focused on Stella, made my senses sharpen, a primal instinct taking over.
She was here to have a good time, not to be ogled by some dirty ass cowboys with a penchant for bottom shelf bourbon and a lip stuffed with tobacco.
Before I had a chance to turn around and order a beer, one was thrust into my chest, the wet label seeping through my henley and causing me to let out a slight hiss at the chill.
“Who pissed in your Cheerios, cowboy?” Stella drawled, batting her eyelashes as if unaware that every hot-blooded male in the bar was staring at her taut ass.
I shook the thoughts from my head and out of the corner of my eye, spotted Wade and Ray waving us over to a four-top table in the back corner.
Wade always tried to find a spot near the pool tables. He was a shark at pool and loved showing off in an attempt to get one of the single ladies to let him show her his stick handling skills, pun intended.
I nodded my head in their direction and steered Stella with a gentle hand on the small of her back towards our crew. She shivered slightly at my touch, and I promptly removed my hand as we approached.
“Why do you look like someone kicked your puppy?” Wade asked, using his pointer and middle finger in the shape of a ‘V’ to gesture up and down at my rigid stature .
“I’m good.” I said, sitting down in one of the unoccupied chairs around the table, refusing to acknowledge the surge of desire I was fighting being in close proximity to Stella.
Suddenly, the music in the bar shifted from a slow, twangy, oldies country song to a more up-tempo and popular beat. Ray let out a hoot of excitement and grabbed Stella’s hand, twirling her towards the dance floor.
“Come on, girl! Let’s show these lame ass cowboys how to have a good time.” She said as she flicked the brim of Wade’s hat and shimmied her hips while walking away.
Stella let out a giggle and kicked back her beer with the grace of a college party girl, plopping the empty bottle on the table and proceeding to follow Ray.
I glanced over to Wade, whose eyes hadn’t strayed from his best friend. If I was anyone else, I’d see an overprotective brother-like figure watching out for a girl on the dance floor, but seeing as how Wade and I had once shared a womb, I felt his tension.
“When are y’all gonna sort your shit out and fuck already?” I asked as I took a swig of my beer. The bubbles danced along my tongue and the acidic finish was just what I needed to ease my tension.
“Don’t know what you’re talkin’ about,” he responded, averting his eyes from the tiny Latina, shaking her ass with the grace of Shakira out on the dance floor.
Ray was in her element. She was a people person and the life of the party everywhere she went. I knew without a shadow of a doubt that it was Wade’s charm and charisma that captivated her. They were twin flames, almost more so than him and I were actually twins.
Wade and Ray’s relationship had always been a bit of a mystery to our family.
We thought they’d be dating by this point, but they were comfortable in their friendship—until now.
The longing in my brother’s eyes as he looked at his best friend betrayed the unspoken romantic tension.
I wasn’t sure when his gazes had become less platonic and more romantic, but it was obvious he was struggling with his feelings for Ray.
I let out a slight chuckle and dropped the topic- for now.
I wasn’t the type of brother to pry into my sibling’s life.
I knew that when he was ready to talk, he’d talk.
The subject of his relationship with Ray was clearly a painful one for him, causing obvious discomfort and making it apparent that it was a sensitive topic best left untouched.
“When are you and Barbie on the run over there gonna fuck?” he asked nonchalantly, projecting his tension back at me.
I nearly choked on my beer, the resulting foam escaping my lips, which I hastily cleaned with the napkin I found on the table.
“Don’t know what you’re talkin’ about,” I echoed back. His smile was wide and accusatory as he tapped the neck of his beer bottle against mine in solidarity.
“Cheers to women who have us so twisted up, we don’t know our dicks from our elbows, brother,” he murmured.
I took a moment to look out on the dance floor. Moving to the music, Stella seemed so naturally free, dancing with an untroubled spirit, as though nothing could burden her. It warmed my heart to see her happy and smiling.
Knowing what I did about her history, it seemed as if she needed this more than anyone. At the moment, she wasn’t a mom, anyone’s woman, or a girl on the run. She was just Stella.
I continued to watch as the pair, she and Ray, made their way back to the bar and requested another round of drinks. Wade’s hiss from beside me caught my attention.
“Aw, fuck.” He said, scrubbing a hand down his face in frustration.
“What?” I asked, looking between the girls at the bar and my brother in confusion.
“Two words- Jose. Cuervo.” he sighed.
“Aw, fuck is right,” I murmured.
Ray held her liquor like a champ, especially tequila- but it brought out her feisty side. Get the girl riled up after a couple shots, and she’d be jonesing for a fight with anyone who looked at her sideways.
Countless times, we’ve had the unpleasant task of removing her, a highly reluctant participant, from this particular bar—the situation always because of her friend and frequent drinking partner, Jose Cuervo.
To slyly monitor the girls at the bar, I left my seat under the ruse of getting another drink. As I slid up to the oak top and placed both palms down to order, I heard Ray shouting at Stella over the booming country music.
“Lick it, drink it, suck it.” Ray instructed.
I turned towards the girls just in time to see Stella’s tongue dart out to lick the line of salt off the back of her hand.
Her throat bobbed as she took back the tequila shot, and her plush lips wrapped around the lime wedge.
That semi I’d been fighting the entire night was now rock hard as all the blood from my head went straight to my dick.
Stella threw her head back in a laugh and I fought the urge to throw her over my shoulder and take her home like a caveman.
“Let’s do body shots!!” Ray shouted as she smacked her hand down on the bar for Hayes to pour them another round.
His eyes met mine in question, and I slowly closed them, letting out a deep breath of resignation. This was about to be a long fucking night.
After the girls had successfully sucked down three tequila shots, they took back to the dance floor.
Their moves had become more fluid with the alcohol now flooding their veins and I could see Stella swinging her hips slowly to the beat.
She looked ethereal and carefree under the neon lights of the bar.
I was just about to turn around and watch from our table when I saw a hand curl around her waist and a man step up behind her, lowering his lips to her ear. I couldn’t hear her stilted laugh over the thrum of the music, but I could sense the tension radiating off her in waves.
In two long strides, I was on the dance floor and standing beside Stella and Ray. I glared at the man who had his hand currently gripping Stella’s hip and gave him the ‘man nod’ that insinuated he better fuck off before I start swinging.
He immediately let go of Stella and backed off the dance floor, mumbling about needing to find the pisser as he left. To check on her and make certain she was alright, I positioned myself behind her delicate form and swayed to the rhythm of the music.
“Ah, my white knight in Wranglers,” she lightly slurred as she turned towards me with a wide grin and a slight chuckle. “Come to save me from the big bad man who wanted to dance?”
“Like you’ve said before, you don’t need savin’, but I figured a pretty girl like you deserved a better dance partner than a wanna-be cowboy in brand new Ariat boots.” I smirked down at her, and that favorite color of mine crested her cheeks.
Her usual strong front was clear, but I could tell she had appreciated my intervention. I’d give her the grace of pretending that she didn’t need saving just this once, if it meant I got to get my hands on her.
“Show me what you’ve got, Cowboy.” She teased as she twirled around so her back was to my front.
The song was upbeat, a driving beat that took a moment to fully sink into. I could feel the heat radiating from her small body in front of me, but we were still inches apart. I didn’t want to risk startling her, so I maintained a safe distance between us.
Her hips swayed in time to the beat and I felt myself becoming more and more comfortable in the rhythm.
I chanced brushing my fingertips over the highest portion of her hipbones, and she instinctively moved back into my body.
Euphoria surged through me as the warmth of her back pressed against my chest, a perfect fit.
I settled my hands on her hips and coasted through the motions with her, fighting to keep the blood in my head from rushing back south.
I dipped my chin down and placed my lips close to her ear, just like I’d done earlier.
“Looks like you’re enjoying yourself, Trouble.” I teased as I took a second to pull her even closer. I skated my hand across her belly and I felt the sharp intake of breath as she melted even more into my embrace.
Our bodies swayed to the music as the song ended. The music shifted to a slower tempo, a change marked by softer notes and a wistful tune, and I felt Stella’s body move just an inch away. Before she could get too far, I took another leap of faith and tipped my hat back to meet her gaze.
“One more dance?” I asked, my southern twang a little thicker as the headiness of lust clouded my judgement. I really shouldn’t be letting myself cross the lines we’d silently drawn over the last few weeks, but I couldn’t help but feel inexplicably drawn to this woman.
Her smile was electric as she put one hand on my chest and leaned in close, her lips in danger of brushing against mine, as she whispered, “Just one dance.”