Chapter Four
OWASSO, OK
MASON
As I look at the half-empty glass of whiskey in front of me, the logical side of my brain says to stop after this one, but I shut that little voice down and toss the rest back while signaling the bartender for a refill. It’s the only thing numbing the guilt that’s telling me what an asshole I am.
Of having to face the fact that I almost lost my father.
Who I haven’t spoken to in over six months.
They are expecting me home tomorrow. I didn’t tell them I got into town this morning because I need some time to myself, just a minute alone before I have to see the man who was always bigger than life as mortal and fragile.
The man who only ever works and takes care of his family and tried to instill in all of us that family always comes first.
There is also my twin sister, Marley, I know she will be taking this hard. After I was made to join the military after high school she leaned heavily on Dad in my absence. After what happened to her on prom night of our senior year, she isn’t as strong as my other two sisters.
The hotel bar is busy, but my attention is on the glass in front of me and the thoughts that keep floating across my mind.
My dad and I always had a decent relationship, even when I got in trouble with the law, he still patted me on the back for protecting my sister.
He was by my side at every court hearing and again when I got on that bus bound for basic training to leave home for the first time.
It was the only time I was in serious trouble with the law, but he was always there for me, the infallible wall of support, no matter what.
Can I say the same of myself?
Fuck no.
Selfish. It’s just a whisper, but it’s been a constant song in my head since I read Gray’s text message yesterday telling me what happened.
Even my little brother, Tucker, who is in the Air Force, manages to make it home a couple of times a year.
What did I do the last time the team had extra time between missions? Jax and I went to the Caribbean and fucked our way through the vacationing hotties. I hadn’t partied that hard or fucked that many babes since I got my first military leave in my twenties.
It doesn’t matter where we go, when women see team guys in a bar they flock like bees to honey. As long as everyone knows the rules, it’s just a little fun with no phone calls the next day.
What’s worse is that I’m not sure I really regret that one, some of those girls were off-the-chart hot.
I’m going to fucking hell, that’s for sure.
I lift my hand for another shot and as the bartender refills my glass, the subtle scent of lavender mixed with, I inhale again, what is that, vanilla, drifts across my nose.
Looking over my shoulder to my right, the slim back of a woman with thick black hair falling in waves between her shoulder blades and down her back is moving away from me.
She glides between the tables and people, her movements are fluid, almost like she’s floating.
Her back is straight like a dancer and her slim hips sway gracefully as she walks.
Her snug jeans hug - fuck me - a perfect heart-shaped ass that has just enough padding to hold onto, and are tucked into boots that look like they might be actual ranch boots.
Choosing a small two-person table next to the windows looking out over the pool, she sheds her leather jacket and hangs it over the back of her seat to reveal a form-fitting sweater that shows off golden shoulders.
As I’m trying to decide if she is a B cup or a C cup, her eyes lift and catch me looking.
Fuck.
Too late to pretend I wasn’t just staring at her tits, I give her a smile and a lazy two-finger military salute.
Her face doesn’t change expression as she looks back down at her table and sets her purse in her seat, but then I’m surprised when she starts to walk in my direction. Her eyes lock on mine and as she gets closer, I can see that they are moss green, and she’s beautiful.
She may be the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen.
Just as she’s about two yards from me, she shifts her eyes to the bartender behind me before leans against the bar next to me. Ouch. Intentional dis after she caught me looking at her, gotta give her points, that was pretty smooth.
Her soft scent wraps around me and I catch myself taking a deep breath to breathe her in. Her arm is right next to mine, and I curl my fingers into my palm to resist the urge to see how soft her skin is.
“Hey, Sofia, how are you tonight?” Her voice is soft and her full, rosebud lips sit under a straight, narrow nose with freckles that spread to each cheek. It looks like she tries to cover them with makeup, but I think they’re cute.
“Hey, Sloane, I’m good. You want your usual?”
She smiles and her whole face lights up, “Yes, please.”
A weird desire I’ve never felt before spreads through me, I want to be the one to make her face light up like that.
Even though she is beautiful, something about her is sad, or maybe vulnerable, and something in me wants to wrap myself around her to protect her. Another whisper in my head says ‘mine’.
My cock twitches in my pants as I think of what it would be like to suck that full, lower lip between mine. She’s about five-seven with a slim, willowy frame, and no ring on her finger.
You may pass go. My alcohol-soaked brain sees the Monopoly man bowing and stepping to the side to give me access.
“You got it.” The bartender says and turns away.
She drops some bills on the counter and crosses her arms in front of her as she leans on the edge of the bar. I realize that I haven’t looked away from her since she started walking toward me and she takes a deep breath before she turns her head to look at me.
The bright smile has left her face and been replaced with a smirk, “You’re a charmer, huh?”
Recognizing the sarcasm, since in my drunken state I was ogling her, I grip the bill of my ballcap and rub the top of my head before I set it back on. Obviously, the whiskey has numbed the part of me that knows how to be a gentleman, and my dick has taken point.
“My apologies, it appears that I’ve had too much to drink, and my manners are not as they should be.” I’ve exaggerated my southern drawl in an effort to be charming.
She doesn’t look away, the smirk is still there, but she sighs in exasperation before she exaggerates politeness, “Oh, another drunk cowboy.” She wraps her fingers around the glass that the bartender just set in front of her and pushes off the bar. “Surprise, surprise.”
Well, shit.
Most men would just tuck their tail, take the loss, and go back to drowning all common sense, but I’m not most men. The pull I feel to her is something that I have never felt before and even in the wake of rejection, I’m determined to see her smile a real smile, one that I put on her face.
Challenge accepted.
Sliding my empty tumbler away, I look at the bartender, “Put her drinks on my tab. Can I get a beer, please?”
She nods and hands someone a few stools down from me his drink.
I look back over my shoulder and watch the beauty sit down and pull a book from her purse.
When she leans back in her seat, she crosses her slim legs and visibly shimmies in the seat to make herself more comfortable before she takes a sip of one of those fruity drinks women like.
My beer is placed in front of me, and I turn to the bartender, “What’s her story?”
She smiles and grabs a rag to wipe off the counter around me, “My job is to make your drinks, listen to your problems, and dole out bad advice I read from a gag book about bad advice. My entertainment every night is to see if any of you drunk cowboys call me on it. If you want information about her, you’ll have to ask her yourself. ” She winks at me and walks away.
Well, shit. Another wall.
When did bartenders start fucking with their patrons like that?
Turning on my stool, I sip my beer and watch her read her book. It takes her nearly an hour to nurse her drink before she sets her book face down on the table to mark her page and comes back to the bar.
She could have gone to any part of the bar, but she’s next to me again. Small wins count.
Her long, slim fingers grasp the edge of the bar and she has to talk a little louder this time because the bar is filling up. “Can I get another one, please?”
A second bartender has joined the one that has been here all evening and he smiles at her and says, “Sure thing, Sloane.”
She smiles back at him, it’s the second time I’ve seen her smile and I want to see more of it. In fact, I’m a little pissed that she is smiling at this guy instead of me. Jealousy has never been my thing and I’m trying to understand why the fuck I even care.
I’ve been nursing this one beer for the past hour so I can talk to her without the whiskey holding my hand, and my dick.
She turns her head and cocks it to the side a little, finally gracing me with her attention, “Are you enjoying the view?” The tone of her voice and the expression on her face is not playful. She looks annoyed.
Turning my body to face her, I put my hand on my knee and smile, “As a matter of fact, I am. I’ve been sitting here trying to figure out what to say to apologize for behaving like a drunken ass.”
She shrugs her shoulder and says, “Drunk cowboys are a dime a dozen, no need to apologize.”
Ouch.
I can’t help the laugh that escapes my throat, and I lift the bill of my ballcap and scrub my hand over my head before setting it back on, the shame and embarrassment making me cringe a little, “Yeah, I was pretty drunk earlier. Sorry about that.”
She actually smiles this time and cocks her head again, “So you’re not drunk now?”
Setting my hand back on my knee, I shake my head with a chuckle, “No. No, I’m not.” I lift my hand from my knee and hold it up in a gesture of surrender, “Now, don’t take this the wrong way, but I’ve been sobering up and working up the courage to go to your table.”
Her lips tip up slightly on one side, “Do I owe you something now?”
“See there,” I point at her with a smile, “that’s taking it the wrong way. To be completely straight with you, I’m treading water right now looking for any sign from you that I could sit at your table for a spell and just… talk.”
Her eyebrows climb her forehead in disbelief, “Talk?” The irritation has left her features and amusement has taken its place. It’s a start.
I nod my head once and hold both of my hands up in surrender, “Talk.”