Page 68

After two shots of whiskey, two beers, and one burger, I started to feel human.
Ben nudged my shoulder. "You feel better yet?"
I tilted my head, considering. "Not entirely."
Jace grinned. "Guess we’ll just have to keep drinkin’ till you do."
The throbbing in my chest hadn’t disappeared, but it had dulled, smoothed over by the burn of alcohol, the steady chatter of cowboys, and the rhythm of a steel guitar twanging from the speakers.
I went to the bar, deciding to find some entertainment for the night. There were some out-of-towner cowboys, and I wouldn’t mind riding one of them, I thought.
The alcohol had dropped some of my inhibitions, and I was giving Betsy a chase for her money with my flirting. I took a man to the dance floor and let myself go.
I wasn’t thinking about Nash. I wasn’t thinking about Wilder Ranch. And I sure as hell wasn’t thinking about Duke. Not until the son of a bitch walked through the damn door.
I felt him before I saw him—a shift in the air, a prickle at the back of my neck.
I ignored him for a good thirty minutes, and then I couldn’t because he got in my face—the arrogant prick.
I was laughing, my hand loosely resting on the chest of a man I hadn’t even bothered to learn the name of, swaying to the music, letting myself just be.
A hand wrapped around my wrist, firm, possessive.
“That’s enough.”
I turned to look at the man who thought he could say such shit to me. He looked like sin in a denim jacket and an expression that told me he was about five seconds away from throwing a punch.
The out-of-towner looked between us, confused. "This guy a problem?"
I almost laughed at the irony.
“Notmyproblem.” I tugged my wrist free.
But Duke wasn’t letting this go. He didn’t look at the man, probably didn’t give a single damn about him ‘cause his eyes were on me.
“You want to leave her, the dance floor, and the bar in that order,” Duke ordered.
“Who the fuck do you?—”
Duke silenced him with a look. Christ! At twenty, he’d beenhot; now he was…well…hotter. I shouldn’t have had that third shot of Wild Turkey, I thought as I watched the man who I’d wanted to be entertained by tonight run away. I didn’t even hear what Duke said to him that made him go pale.
“What was that?” I demanded, trying to wrestle mywrist free, but he wouldn’t let me. Instead, he pulled me into his arms. We weren’t dancing…we were…entangled.
"What the hell are you doin’, Elena?"
I lifted a brow. "About what?”
“Withthatman?”
“I was tryin’ to get laid, Duke, until you decided to play alpha fuckin’ male.”
Duke’s jaw ticked. “Do you even know that asshole’s name?”
“Don’t need to know his name to ride his cock, Duke.”
“So, you were just going to fuck him?”
The way he said it—low, rough like it killed him to even acknowledge it—sent something hot curling through my stomach. I hated him for it. For making me feel. For making me want.