Chapter 2
JONAH
It takes a shit ton of effort not to laugh at the expression on the girl’s face.
No, not the girl. And not stunning blonde, the name I’ve been calling her in my head since she came in and sat down an hour ago.
Ellie. That’s what her friend called her. The name is fitting. Pretty. Feminine. Just like her.
Well, she doesn’t look particularly feminine right now. In fact, she kind of looks as if she’d like to commit murder. I can’t really blame her. It’s obvious that her friend did that on purpose. She’s not even trying to hide it—the Cosmo chick is grinning like the cat that got the canary.
These women clearly don’t realize how loud they’ve been all night.
I heard the brunette tell the blond to lose her cardigan at least three times before I came over here.
Apparently, she decided it was time to take matters into her own hands.
No wonder she asked for a new drink even though she still had plenty of her Cosmo left.
“I cannot believe you just did that,” Ellie says, her voice tight with anger. “Seriously, Trisha?”
The friend just shrugs. “It was an accident.”
Yeah, right.
“We can get that cleaned up,” I tell Ellie. “Why don’t you come to the staff bathroom with me. There are towels in there and we can get some club soda on the stain before it sets.”
Some of the anger goes out of her as she blinks up at me, that same slightly dazed expression she was wearing before washing over her face. It makes me feel the same way it had when I took her order—like a fucking king.
She’s affected by me. And I like that. A whole lot.
“Come on,” I say, pulling her chair out so she can stand. The urge to lift her right out of her seat is strong. There’s something about this woman that makes me want to take care of her.
Preferably with my lips and my fingers and my tongue.
But I can’t think like that right now. I’ve been fighting back the monster of all hard-ons since she walked into my bar earlier.
Now that I finally have the chance to talk to her, to be close to her, I have no intention of fucking it up by scaring her off with a huge erection.
My reaction to this woman is confusing as hell.
My brothers and I have always been pretty popular with the ladies in our small town at the edge of the Blue Ridge Mountains.
Opening this bar only helped our cause with the opposite sex.
We get patrons not only from here in Solitude, but all over the county.
And since my twin brother Sawyer started his own craft brewing operation, we’ve started to see plenty of beer snob tourists.
That means there’s been a pretty steady stream of available women sitting in this bar, making eyes at the four Barlowe brothers.
To say I get plenty of action would be an understatement.
But never have I felt such an immediate, strong reaction to a woman before, particularly not a complete stranger.
I screwed up four different drinks orders since she walked in here, all because I was too distracted by staring at her.
When our eyes finally met, it felt like all the air was knocked straight out of my chest.
Not going over to her table wasn’t even an option at that point.
Ellie stands, glaring at her friend, who couldn’t look more pleased by this development. “Take your time,” the brunette says gleefully. “I’ll be just fine here on my own.”
“It’s right back here,” I say, unable to stop myself from putting my hand at the small of Ellie’s back to guide her to the back hallway.
The contact only makes me crave more. Standing this close to her is dangerous—her body feels warm and soft next to mine, the delicate scent of something soft and feminine washing over me.
I want to pull her close to me, to press every inch of that tempting softness against my hard body.
When we step into the back hallway, the bar noise lowers by a few degrees, somehow making me even more aware of her. Her scent and the movement of her shoulders as she breathes jerkily. The girl is clearly pissed. It’s kind of hot.
Fuck, everything about her is hot.
I don’t really have a type. When it comes to women, I’m an equal opportunity kind of guy. Tall, short, petite, curvy, blonde, brunette—I don’t give a shit. Why limit myself when there’s such a variety to sample?
But all of a sudden, that thinking seems incredibly misguided. Clearly my type is willowy, graceful blondes with shoulder-length hair and wide blue eyes. This willowy, graceful, blue-eyed blonde in particular.
“Right in here,” I tell her, fighting to keep from flexing my fingers into the skin of her lower back. Maybe I should wait in the hallway, but the idea of not taking this opportunity seems crazy, so I follow her into the bathroom. “I’ll get you some towels.”
“I cannot believe she did that,” Ellie mutters, staring at herself in the large mirror over the sink. The liquid has spread to encompass most of the left side of her torso. “This sweater is ruined now.”
“Nah,” I say easily, pulling the towels from a cabinet. “I’ve spilled drinks on me more times than I can count. I’m an expert stain remover.” I set the towels on the edge of the sink and hold out my hand. “Let me see it.”
She blinks up at me, her blue eyes huge in her face, gaze trapped on my lips. “See…what?” she asks, a little breathless, like she’s nervous, or maybe overwhelmed. I fucking love the sound of her shaky voice. I can think of a million different things I could do to make her sound like that again.
“Your sweater. I have some club soda. If you give it to me, I can start working on the stain while you dry off.”
“Oh. Um. Sure. I mean. Thank you.” Her cheeks flush, like she’s embarrassed by her stammering. No need to be shy, darlin’, I think. You’re fucking adorable.
My eyes lock on her hands as her fingers start to move over the tiny pearl buttons on the sweater. I vaguely wonder if I’m being creepy—I should probably turn my back—but it feels physically impossible not to watch as inch after inch of her pale skin is displayed to me.
Jesus, this woman is gorgeous. I have to shove my hands into my pockets to keep from reaching for her. I could have her out of that sweater in three seconds flat.
She gives a little moan of distress once she has the buttons undone.
“Of course it spread to my camisole,” she grumbles, swiping at the stain on the layer of cotton under the sweater.
My mouth suddenly goes very dry. The tank top she’s wearing is a pale pink, only a few shades off from her creamy skin.
And at the very bottom of her left breast there’s a circle of damp, nearly translucent fabric.
Holy fuck.
I don’t even notice I’ve groaned until she goes still.
Somehow, I manage to tear my eyes away from that wet fabric clinging to the swell of the underside of her breast so I can look up at her face.
She’s staring at me with those wide, blue eyes.
Her creamy skin is no longer quite as pale, a rosy blush beginning to spread up from her chest.
“You’re gorgeous,” I whisper, because I can’t not. It doesn’t matter that I don’t know the first thing about this woman. It doesn’t matter that we’re in the staff bathroom at my family’s bar. The only thing that matters is the thrumming need pulsing in the air between us.
I’m not sure who moves first. All I know is that we’re crashing into each other, our bodies meeting in a tangle of hands and lips and heat, so much heat.
I palm the side of her face, bringing her mouth to mine, and then I’m completely lost as my tongue plunges into her mouth.
Nothing has ever tasted so sweet, no sound has ever been so erotic as the way she gasps against me.
“This is insane,” she mutters when I finally come up for air. She doesn’t release me, though. One of her hands is locked in the hair at the nape of my neck while the other roams over my back. Every millimeter of skin she touches lights me on fire. “I don’t do things like this. I feel crazy.”
“Crazy,” I agree, nipping at the skin below her jaw, relishing in the way she moans for me. “But so fucking good, darlin’.”
“So good,” she agrees on a soft whimper. Then she can’t speak anymore because my lips are on her again, the sweet slide of her tongue in my mouth making me feel weak in the knees.
I grip her tightly around the waist, my pinky fingers landing in the minuscule strip of skin between her tank top and her jeans. The skin is soft and pliant under my fingers and God, I want more. I need more. I need to touch every inch of her, feel all of her soft, hot skin against all of mine.
I want her naked. Now.
She pushes me back, breathing heavy. “Wait.”
I immediately step back to give her room, though I don’t drop my hands from her waist. It seems unbearable to even think about not touching her. “What’s wrong?”
She just shakes her head, staring up at me. That rosy hue has spread up her neck to kiss her cheeks with a soft blush. Fucking gorgeous.
“I don’t even know your name.”
I bark out a laugh. Okay, maybe she had a point about this being crazy.
“That’s easy enough to rectify.” I release her hip and hold out my hand. “I’m Jonah Barlowe. It’s nice to meet you, Ellie…?”
“Harrington.” She shakes my hand even as she rolls her eyes. “Seems kind of silly to be so formal when you just had your tongue down my throat.” I laugh harder and her eyes go wide. “I can’t believe I just said that.”
“Are you telling me I bring out the scandalous side of you?”
She snorts, gesturing around the bathroom. “Apparently. I’ve certainly never done anything like this before.”
“Made out with a hot stranger in a bar bathroom?”
Her eyebrow goes up in a perfect arch. “Hot stranger, huh? I guess you’re not the modest type.”
I gesture down my body. “Why would I be modest when I have all this to work with?”
She snorts. “Excuse me, I need to vomit now.”
I catch a glimpse of myself in the mirror behind her and realize that I’m grinning huge. Not only is Ellie gorgeous, she’s also sassy and sweet and she doesn’t take my shit. Teasing her is almost as fun as kissing her was. Almost.
“You could let me kiss you again, instead.”
Her eyes flicker to my mouth and just like that, the red-hot desire that we’d moved to the back burner for the last few moments comes right back to life, boiling over to scald through my blood. “Why do you want to kiss me?” she whispers. “You don’t even know me.”
I take a step closer, squeezing her hips. “I wanted to kiss you from the moment you walked into my bar,” I tell her. I’d wanted to do a lot more than kiss her, but I don’t tell her that. Not yet. “I’ve never seen anyone so beautiful in my life. I couldn’t keep my eyes off you.”
She blinks, looking too surprised to even speak. “Me?” she finally manages to squeak out.
I chuckle, gripping her tighter. “Yes, you. I never go out to wait tables when I’m tending bar. But when you finally looked at me, it was like I had no choice. I had to come over and see you. You’re fucking magnetic, Ellie.”
She just shakes her head, and I see confusion and doubt swimming in her eyes.
And maybe a measure of pain, too. Just like that, I want to punch something.
Because I know, I just know, that someone put that look into Ellie’s eyes.
Someone made this perfect girl doubt herself.
Someone hurt her. And that makes me so angry I can’t breathe for a moment.
So I grab her tighter around the waist and lift her to the sink, balancing her on the edge and crouching a little to put us at eye level.
“I’ve never wanted to kiss or touch someone as much as I’ve wanted to kiss and touch you, and that was just from looking at you across a crowded bar.
Now that I’ve actually had a few minutes alone with you?
Now that I’ve heard you talk and tease me, heard the sound of your laugh, got close enough to see the little specks of navy in these pretty blue eyes?
” I run a fingertip over the silk of her collarbone, feeling the heat of her flushed skin.
“Now that I know how it feels to touch your perfect skin, hear the noises you make when you’re turned on, taste how fucking sweet your mouth is—I’m already addicted darlin’, and it’s been about ten minutes. ”
She just stares at me for a long moment. Something flashes in her eyes and I’m afraid maybe she’s going to push me away, that she’s going to run back to her friend and escape from whatever madness is strumming through the air between us.
She doesn’t run. Instead, she grabs my face and kisses me.