Epilogue
Andie
One Week Later
“Whole lotta changes.” Gerald raises his bushy eyebrows, twisting as much as a man his size can twist to look at the big, empty space in the back of the bar where Demon used to be. “Not sure if I like ‘em.”
“Gerald Beaumont,” I laugh, swatting him with my little pad. “Weren’t you sitting here last Sunday—right here—going on about how nice and quiet it is when that bull ain’t on?”
“Ain’t on, sure,” he grumbles, blushing a little as he turns back toward me, adjusting that big belt buckle of his like he always does. “But the damn thing is just gone now. Whole place feels different.”
Cybil’s nodding her agreement as he speaks, sipping on the water I just set in front of her.
“Well, I can’t argue with y’all there,” I murmur, eyes flitting to the tall, handsome man at the bar, the one with the dark auburn scruff and the broad shoulders, familiar amber eyes already fixed on me.
My cheeks are burning as I clear my throat, turning my attention back to the Beaumonts.
“Especially since Old Sam’s retiring, right?
Heard that son of his is taking over. Did y’all get a chance to meet him? ”
Both of them ignore my polite little segue, looking over their shoulders at the back, leaving me standing there with my pen hovering in midair, waiting.
“Alright, I gotta know,” Cybil finally blurts out, leaning in toward me and Gerald conspiratorially. “What really happened? You know… with the bull?”
“You saw, same as I did,” I say, stiffening up a little, my smile getting real tight. “Darn thing went on the fritz. Old Sam had to put him out to pasture.”
“Oh come now, Andie,” Cybil scoffs, sharing a look with Gerald. “We saw those troublemakers unplug that thing, saw that old bull still bucking when Hank dragged most of ‘em out of here! What really happened?”
I take a deep breath, that tight smile of mine getting tighter by the second because I ain’t a good liar. Cybil has a nose for sniffing out secrets, and right now she’s looking at me like she knows I got one heck of a big one.
Thing is, she’s right.
I do have a big secret, and I wish I could just open my mouth and start blabbing about it, even to a gossip like her. Imagining what I might say as I jot down her order eases the tension in my shoulders, softening my smile.
Actually Mrs. Beaumont, I came so hard on top of that old bull last Sunday that he turned into a bull-man!
And after that bull-man fucked me six ways to Sunday, I got to meet his daddy!
And turns out his daddy ain’t just the owner of this fine establishment and my boss, but he’s also The Devil himself! Satan, can you believe it?
Anywho, now that bull-man can turn into the biggest, tallest, handsomest man I’ve ever seen, and he’s sitting right over there at the bar.
And wouldn’t you know it? He can fuck me just a good as that bull-man can, and I can have either of them whenever I want because magic is real and humans ain’t at the top of the food chain!
Now, what’re you drinking?
I’d never say anything of the sort to anyone—ever, seeing as Old Sam had me sign a real detailed contract—but it can be fun to fantasize.
After I finish up with the Beaumonts—leaving Cybil looking a bit sour—I bustle off to drop off their order with Hank and make a beeline for the bar, heart all a flutter.
Because Demon is sitting at the bar tonight, going over Old Sam’s books and nursing a beer.
He’s tall, even as a human.
Tall and tattooed and corded with muscle under that fitted shirt.
Still reminds me of my bull-man, though, still has that strong, sharp jaw and those amber eyes that I love—amber eyes that linger possessively as I approach the bar, a small smile curving my lips.
“Got that whiskey sour yet, Dex?” I holler, setting my tray down beside Lila’s.
“He’s distracted tonight,” she mutters, eyes full of murder as she watches him show Shelby Keats how he can tie a cherry stem with his tongue—off-again it is, then. “And it looks like our new boss is, too. Don’t look now, but I think he might be sweet on you…”
My eyes fly straight back to Demon, unable to help myself, and I can feel my cheeks start to heat as he smiles real slow, have to duck my chin and look away.
“Yeah, well… I think you might be onto something there.” I bite my lip, knowing that I’m blushing brighter than a berry.
Pretending like I ain’t already head over heels for Sam Hill Saloon’s new owner sure is hard… because the truth is?
He’s everything I ever wanted and more.
Much, much more.