Chapter 6
CHAPTER SIX
HUNTER
Song- Wrong Ones, Post Malone ft. Tim Mcgraw
I set the beers down on the table, and the second I sit, Ace’s grin stretches wide enough to be a damn problem.
“Well, well,” he drawls. “Look at big brother out here flirtin’.”
I grab another bottle from the bucket, ignoring him. “Shut up.”
Colten leans back in his chair, arms folded, eyes amused. “Didn’t know you still remembered how.”
“I wasn’t flirting.”
Ace laughs. Loudly. “Hunter Ralph Sterling, you walked across a packed bar, scared off two dudes, and bought her a drink. That is flirting in your book.”
I shrug, taking a swallow of beer. “Just bein’ polite.”
“Bullshit,” Colten says. “You only get polite when you’re interested.”
“I’m always polite.”
Beau finally looks up from his whiskey. “You’ve been staring at her since she walked in.”
I ignore them, but my gaze drifts back across the bar anyway.
And there she is. Cherry-red curls bouncing as she laughs with her friend, hips swaying to the music, completely unaware of how every man in the room is watching her.
She dances different from the girls around here. No practiced bar sway. She dances like she doesn’t care who’s watching.
Ace whistles low. “She will cause you trouble. I think she’s just what you need, grumps.”
“Yeah, because the lot of you don’t cause me enough anyway,” I mutter.
“You love it, it keeps you alive,” Ace counters.
I don’t answer because the longer I watch her move, the tighter something coils low in my gut.
The way her hips move, I’m desperate to know what color her panties are under that skirt. The way sweat dampens the back of her neck. The way she throws her head back laughing, curls flying.
And suddenly my jeans feel a hell of a lot tighter than they did five minutes ago.
Jesus Christ.
I scrape my chair back. “I need some air.”
Ace grins. “Need a cold shower, you mean.”
“Fuck off.”
Their laughter follows me out into the night as I head to the back door, pulling out a cigarette. With my back against the wall, I look up at the stars and light it. Letting the smoke burn into my lungs.
Boots crunch on gravel behind me.
I already know it’s her. I’m trained to hunt, but she deserves more than to be my prey.
I don’t turn right away. But my heart fuckin’ gallops in my chest.
Watching her dance in there? Watching every man look at her?
Not good for my self-control. I’ve got a reputation to uphold. But, if someone so much as touches her, I might shoot the place up.
“I thought I told you to stay away from cowboys?” I ask, glancing over my shoulder.
She stands a few feet away, curls wild from dancing, cheeks flushed, green eyes bright in the dim light.
“It’s hot in there,” she says, folding her arms, though the smile tugging at her lips gives her away.
“Fresh air’s usually out front. Back here is for the smokers.”
She shrugs. “Guess I got lost.”
I huff a quiet laugh. “Sure you did, firefly.”
Her eyes flicker at the nickname, and instead of stepping back, she moves closer.
Mistake number one.
I hold my lit cigarette out as a dare. “You smoke?”
“If I’m feeling bad, then yes.”
I nod. Checking her hands, looking for a ring on the wrong finger. But it’s bare. She’s not taken. “Then tonight’s your lucky night.”
Our fingers brush as she takes it, and the contact snaps between us like static.
Jesus.
She coughs lightly after her drag, then hands it back, fingers lingering deliberately.
She’s teasing me, and I should shut it down. I don’t do this anymore, haven’t since Wyatt’s mom walked out and left me holding everything together.
My priorities are simple: My son. My ranch. My brothers.
Women complicate things.
But this one? She pulls at something in me I thought burned out years ago. She’s making me rethink my whole way of life with one smile.
Maybe not everyone is going to walk out on me. Perhaps this cherry red haired girl might be the one who stays.
I believe in fate, for the most part.
“You always scare people like that?” she asks, shaking me from my thoughts.
“Like what?”
She has no idea how dangerous I am. And that’s when reality crashes down over me. I’ve seen men in Enzo’s organization almost lose the women they love.
I’ve seen how it breaks them. Hell, I saw how my mother's death broke my father.
“In there. Everyone moved when you walked by. Like they were petrified to breathe wrong in front of you. Same as outside Dusty’s the other morning.”
I arch an eyebrow. The cafe? She has seen me around. How the fuck did I miss her?
“Small town,” I shrug, playing it off. “Folks know each other.”
“That’s not what it looked like.”
I lean back against the wall. “And what did it look like?”
Her gaze drifts slowly over me. And I think she likes what she sees.
“Like you’re some kind of leader around here.”
My mouth twitches. “And you still followed me out here? You’re brave.”
Her chin lifts. “Maybe. Or, perhaps I’m intrigued.”
Silence stretches between us.
“You dance like you’re tryin’ to start fights,” I mutter.
“With who? I don’t want to start any trouble. I’m new here, remember?”
“Every guy in that bar.”
Her eyebrows crease when she frowns. “Guys here want to fight me?”
I let out a chuckle. I don’t think she realizes just how breathtaking she is.
“No. I’ll knock every single one out that so much as glances at you the wrong way.”
Her pretty lips open, and she sucks in a breath.
A slow smile curves her mouth. “But you didn’t. You walked away? You could have danced with me.”
My jaw tightens. Because yeah. Watching her move like that makes it damn hard not to imagine her moving under me instead.
My gaze drops to her mouth for too long. “I walked away because you don’t need to be getting mixed up with the likes of me. Trust me on that.”
She tilts her head, as if she’s assessing me. I like it.
“You don’t flirt much, do you?” she asks softly.
“Not my thing.” I shrug.
“Why not?” she says, biting back a smile.
“I’m a busy man.”
“Busy how?”
She’s not giving up. It’s hot as hell.
“Raising my son. Running a ranch. Doing bad things,” I say.
Surprise flickers across her face. “You have a kid?”
“Yeah.”
Something softens in her expression. And that should end this. Being a single dad means I can’t just date anyone. I have to date someone who is safe for my son.
Someone who will love him, too.
Instead, she steps closer.
Close enough, her thigh brushes mine. Close enough, I feel her breath at my neck.
“You don’t look seem the settling-down type, are you with his mom?” she murmurs.
“Neither do you. And fuck no.”
Truth is, I would settle down. I can picture myself getting old with someone who loves my son like their own.
A woman who sees the beauty on my ranch.
That isn’t afraid of how possessive I am over the people I love.
Someone who will help me build the ranch into something our children will one day run.
But I see more than she thinks. See the confidence she wears like armor. The way her body leans closer, even while her mouth keeps up the bravado.
She fights control. But she wants someone strong enough to take it away for a while. To show her what letting go feels like. To show her what riding a cowboy really means.
My hand lifts without permission, brushing a curl off her shoulder. Soft as hell.
Her breath stutters. And she doesn’t move away.
“You should go back inside,” I tell her.
“Why?” she asks, batting her lashes.
“Because you’re playin’ with somethin’ you don’t understand.”
“And you’re not?” she counters, her eyes shimmering with defiance.
That hits harder than it should. Because the truth is, I haven’t felt this pull towards someone in years. If ever. Even with Ashley, Wyatt’s mom. It was never a real love relationship. It was a necessity.
But this girl, it’s like gravity shifted. Like my body made the call before my brain could argue.
I place the cigarette on her lips, and she takes a drag, not breaking eye contact this time. And it takes everything I have not to spin her round and take her against this damn wall.
I am desperate to be that cigarette.
She blows the smoke right into my face, and I inhale, leaning a little closer. “Go back inside, firefly.”
She doesn’t move. Instead, her fingers hook lightly into my belt loop, stopping me from stepping away.
Every muscle in my body locks tight. Fuck, I want her.
“You’re the one telling me to stay away,” she says softly. “But you’re not going anywhere.”
She’s right. And that scares the hell out of me.
I close my hand around her wrist, not pushing her away. Just holding her there. Because she’s making my mind glitch, and I’m not sure how to react.
“For a smart girl,” I whisper near her ear, “you’re real bad at listening.”
Her breath shivers, and for a long second, neither of us moves.
Then something shifts in her expression like she remembers herself. Confidence snaps back into place, and she steps away slowly. “Well,” she says lightly, “guess that makes two of us.”
She turns, then stops, glancing back. And something real slips free.
“Lola,” she blurts. “My name’s Lola.”
A smile pulls at my mouth despite myself. Lola wants me to remember her.
And there’s not a chance in hell I could ever forget her.
She blows me a kiss as she walks backward toward the bar. “Maybe I’ll see you around,” she calls. “But don’t count on it.” Her eyes sparkle with challenge. “I’m not a woman who gets passed up twice.”
Confident. And so fucking hot that I’ve got a semi.
She spins and disappears inside. And I stay there in the cool night air long after the door swings shut.
Because something tells me that even if fireflies have a short lifespan, they still burn bright. And I’m not sure I can let this one go off into the night without knowing what it would be like, even just for one night, to stand in her flame.
I could let myself be free again. Be Hunter. Not the one everyone relies on. But the man she sees. That could have her screaming out my name and coming so hard she forgets her own.
Fuck.
Lola. Lola. Lola.