13. Della
DELLA
We pass all the places on the strip, and the three of them tell me how, in a month, this place will be swarming with people, and how spots like The Rusty Lantern and the other local bar, Sunrise Tavern, will become the cornerstone of sanity.
It’s too bad I won’t be around to experience it.
When it looks like we’re past everything on Millstone Avenue, including the art store, Jaxon turns right and drives three blocks.
It’s wild how things have shifted from fancy tourist places to what I stereotyped this place to be; tumbleweeds have to live in this part of town.
Pulling up to a dark, run-down establishment, a few neon signs in the window cut through the darkness. I’m confident I would never walk into a place that looked like this by myself.
But as soon as we are through the door, everything feels different.
I wonder if the run-down look is intentional to keep the tourists away.
It still screams dive bar, but not murder bar, so that’s good.
The crack of pool balls crashing into each other, and the laughter of people who know each other fill my ears.
Heads turn when we walk in, and the three of them do some glad-handing as we make our way to an open table.
It feels like everyone is staring at me, and I bet to some degree they are.
I don’t think I look too out of place, but maybe they can just tell.
Jaxon reads me like a book, pulling me in by the waist and putting his mouth by my ear so I can hear him clearly. “Everyone is staring because they’re wondering who the hot new woman walking in with us is. Because let’s call a spade a spade, you look fucking insane.”
Every sense lights up, including a tingle in a place I thought had died.
He smells so good, just like he did yesterday.
It’s not something that feels purchased or expensive; it’s like cedarwood and leather, and my gosh, does it do something to me.
I know he isn’t trying to tease me… or maybe he is…
but feeling his breath skit across my ear sends a shiver down my spine that lands right between my legs.
“Are you sure I look okay?” partly because I’m unsure, and partly because I like how compliments from Jaxon make me feel.
“Della Tatroe from Chicago, you’re a smoke show,” he chuckles at himself. “I could keep rhyming if you want.”
“I’m a little curious,” I say, enjoying the playfulness between us.
“Della Tatroe from Chicago, you’re a smoke show, and I’m glad to have you in tow. You’re someone everyone wants to know. You make everything around you glow. Do you happen to drink Bordeaux?”
The laugh bubbles out of me because Jaxon Wills is just fun. And easy. And flirty. So when everyone moves towards a seat, I make damn sure to sit next to him.
“Cheers to cowgirl Della!” Hazel and Molly say when they return with drinks in the air.
Holding up my vodka soda, I smile and clink the glasses of the people who have made me feel welcome without exception.