Page 119 of Burning Daylight

“She likes it when I’m filthy.” He winks.

“You’re a pig,” she spits.

He shrugs. “She knows how it is.”

“Well, if you see her, tell her I don’t appreciate her not showing up for her shift tonight.”

He nods, sucking on his teeth. “Will do.”

“And you’re tipping me sixty percent for being a prick. I’ll add it to your tab.”

“What?” He throws his hands up. “How is thismyfault?”

She lifts a shoulder. “It’s not. It’s just because you’re an asshole.”

Something sparks in Benjamin’s eyes, and I lean back, taking in the scene.

He laughs and shakes his head. “It’s a wonder Art still walks around with a stick up his ass with how muchspirityou have, Gin. Does that not translate to the bedroom?”

Art.That name sounds familiar.

She glares and spins around, stomping away, and he laughs. “Fuck, she’s so hot. I don’t know why she’s sleeping with Art Penngrove of all people.”

“Because he’s the mayor’s son, probably,” Merrick says, swigging from his beer. “Women love power. Plus, it probably helps that he owns the place now. Bet she gets all the good shifts.”

“She looked like she wanted to kill you,” I chime in.

A dark look coasts across Benjamin’s face. “One day, I’ll ruin her. Mark my words.”

“So, what’s up with this place?” I ask, throwing my arm on the back of the booth and looking around.

“This is where it all happens, sweetheart.” Merrick spreads his arms like he’s unveiling a magic trick. “You want to know thetruepulse of Rosebrook Falls? This is where you need to be.”

I lift a brow. “At a bar in the HillPoint?”

Merrick grins wickedly. “It’s more than just a bar. At least now that Art owns it. But it’s good how well it hides it, don’t you think?”

I squint. “What does that even mean?”

Benjamin says something else, but I’m not paying attention anymore, because like a beacon in a storm, my gaze snaps to the front door, laser focused on the women who just waltzed in.

One woman in particular.

Juliette.

My veins heat like every single molecule of my body is hardwired to react to her, and I track her as she walks through the space, moving through bodies and sitting down at the bar.

My heart slams against my chest, and my knee bounces beneath the table. I grab my beer and gulp down a mouthful just to give myself something to do.

Butfuck, she’shere.

And I’m a little drunk.

I break my gaze away, my eyes meeting Merrick’s knowing look.

Clearing my throat, I take another sip of my beer, but my eyes trail back to her every few seconds, the urge to go to her so strong it takes everything in me to stay in my seat.

And I’m successful at it, too…until some douchebag walks up behind her and her friend, his arm a little too close to her exposed back and his eyes wandering a little too south.