Page 56

The somewhat cute bartender with tattoos up his arms and neck leaned against the bar and asked what I wanted. Three days ago, I would’ve swooned over this guy, but now all I could do was appreciate the inked artwork.

After ordering two shots of tequila, I watched him pour out three. With a wink, he clinked one against the shot glass in my hand and tipped it back. With a tight smile, I followed suit, then again with the second one.

I raised my hand to order another when a massive, rough, old hand grasped mine and eased it back to the bar.

“Slow down there, sweetheart,” said the older cowboy perched on the stool to my right. “Going to the bottom of the bottle isn't the solution to whatever you're fightin'. I would know.”

I glanced at the plastic water cup in his hand while I wiped the remaining cheap tequila from my lips. The alcohol swirled in my near-empty stomach.

“The bottom of the bottle seems like a nice place to hide though.” The rounded edge of the bar pressed into my ribs as I leaned over to flag down the bartender for another round. Out of the corner of my eye, I caught the man’s gray brows rise in surprise. “The boy I was in love with as a kid is back in my life after royally fucking me over. But here's the kicker—he doesn't remember doing it. And now I'm here wondering if what happened was his doing or someone else’s, and on top of that, the man he is now is amazing. Military, gorgeous, tattoos....” I sighed and downed the shot the bartender placed in front of me. “I'm playing with fire, I know I am, but hell, I've been cold for so long, the heat is welcomed.”

“You think he'll mess you over again. That's why you're drinking.”

“My best friend and I just got in a fight about it.”

“Ah, she disapproves?”

“Yeah. She pretty much said I'm an idiot, and this time when he fucks me over, it’ll be like taking it in the ass with no lube.”

Our entire side of the bar turned their attention to the old man after he spewed water across it. Wide-eyed, he turned on the stool to face me straight on, tipped his Stetson, and smiled.

“Is that an invitation?”

I choked on the fourth shot. “What?”

His soft chuckle and smile soothed over the anxiety his question had triggered. “I'm just playin' with you, sweetheart. Besides, my drinking days are over, and no way in hell would I go into a fight with your man sober.”

My man. Right. Brenton wasn't my anything.

Wait.

“How do you...?” I followed his pointed finger across the bar to find a pair of striking green eyes already staring back. “Oh.” While I watched, a pretty blonde walked up and attempted to talk to Brenton, but he ignored the woman to keep his sole attention on me.

“He's been there since you saddled up next to me. And since I'm the sober one of us two, I'll tell you something. That man hasn't taken his eyes off you. I think you should be more worried about the idiot who tries to get near you instead of worrying about that boy breaking your heart.” His wise eyes flicked across the bar. “Because I don't see any leaving in those eyes.”

“How—”

A thick, hairy arm stretched between my new best friend and me. Instead of pulling back after grabbing the beer from the bartender, the obtrusive man stayed angled between us.

“Well aren't you the prettiest thing in here tonight,” he said with a slight slur.

The old cowboy gave a high-pitched whistle. “Boy, I'd watch it.”

The brute shoved off the bar to tower over him. “Oh really, you think you have a shot? Your balls are too shriveled for someone like her, old man. Let me show her how young cowboys ride.”

Oh hell no.

I swiveled on the stool, the room spinning as I turned, to face the jackass. “Hey, lay off my friend here. I bet his shriveled balls are still bigger than yours, fuck face. Go practice your bolstering elsewhere.”

“My what?” he said, obviously confused.

“Showing off, you idiot.”

“Girl, you dissed my balls and suggested I'm ignorant—”

“Not suggesting. I said it. To your face.”

Instead of deterring him like I hoped, his smile only widened. “Come on, you owe me a dance after all that sass.”