Page 3

Chapter Two

CAMILA

“ C an you believe I’m stuck in this podunk town for another five days?” I turn away from the guy glaring at me as I talk to Evelyn on my phone.

“Cami, where are you? I can barely hear what you’re saying.” The country music blares, and I sigh, knowing she’s right.

“HANG ON!” I grab my drink and walk to the hallway with a sign that says “Chicks and Dicks” with an arrow, hoping it’s the bathrooms and not the entrance to some secret sex club.

“Is that better?” I ask as I force the door closed behind me and check out my surroundings.

Well, the bar floor may be littered with peanut shells but the restrooms are clean.

“At the only place serving food in this town. Some bar called The Courthouse.” I pin the phone to my shoulder and lean my ass on the sink so I can taste my Long Island Iced Tea.

“Texas sounds very interesting.” I cough when the drink hits my throat.

“Christ! I don’t think the bartender put soda in this. It’s all alcohol.” Evelyn laughs as I stir and try again.

Nope. Not any better at all.

“You’re a long way from home, Cami. Might want to try some of the native stuff.” I roll my eyes and turn to make sure my makeup is ok.

“I just called to tell you I’m stuck here a few extra days. Who would have thought this Cowboy would be so busy he couldn’t see me until Friday?” The door opens, and loud cheering makes me cringe.

“Evelyn, I’ll call you tomorrow.” I don’t hear what she says, but I hang up and exit the restroom to see what the fuck is going on.

A huge man in a flannel shirt, cowboy hat, and the tightest jeans I’ve ever seen has another guy pinned to the wall. The guy dangling a foot off the ground struggles to breathe as the whole bar watches. I watch as he pulls at a baseball bat that’s being pushed into his windpipe.

“Let him down! Christ, you’ll kill him.” A new bartender yells across the room.

I take one long look at the guy’s ass and bite my lip.

Chris Evans would weep.

“Can I see a menu?” I ask the guy yelling at the dude with the bat.

“Lady, can’t you see I’m busy?” I arch a brow and look around.

“I don’t see anyone else waiting.” He throws a towel over his shoulder and braces his hands on the bar.

The action makes the veins in his arms pop, and I’m sure he thinks it’s intimidating, but all it does is make me appreciate how the men around her are grown.

“You ain’t from around here, are you ,Sugar?” Ugh, and he ruined it.

“No. Menu?” He shakes his head and slaps one down in front of me.

Something smashes, and I turn to see the bat going through the wall inches away from the dangling man’s face.

Wonder what he did?

I turn back and sip my drink as I look over the menu.

“YOU’RE PAYING FOR THAT!” The bartender slams his fist on the bar, and my drink almost spills.

I glare at him, but he’s not paying me any attention. The shouting returns to a manageable level, and the country music that was drowned out filters back into my ears. I’d rather listen to the fighting.

“Now, what you want, lady?” The original guy who made my drink is back, looking seriously annoyed.

Before I can answer, a bell rings loudly, and the music changes.

“What the fuck?” I look around and see a girl climbing onto a mechanical bull.

“Seriously? I shake my head as the cheering starts up.

“Let me get an order of cowboy fries.” I push the menu back and drain my glass.

I close my eyes and shake my head to dispel the sudden rush the liquor gives me.

“Want another?” Blinking slowly, I look at the guy like he’s nuts.

“What did you make her?” Arm candy is back and glaring at his coworker.

“Um, a Long Island Iced Tea?” The younger bartender says, blushing crimson.

“Fuck, lady, are you ok?” I look between them, confused.

“This fuck doesn’t know how to make that or where to find it on a map. What’d you pour?” My eyes widen when the kid shrugs, grabs four bottles off the shelf, and puts them in front of us.

“I top it with seltzer.” I read the label and frown.

Vodka, rum, gin, and tequila are all correct, at least, but no wonder I’m pleasantly buzzed.

“Go home, Josh. Here, drink this,” A tall glass of water appears in front of me.

“Thanks,” I start to drink, and he suddenly pulls it away, splashing it all over.

“SLOWLY! I ain’t cleaning up your vomit.” I narrow my eyes at him.

“Does your boss know how rude you guys are to customers?” He snorts and lets go of the glass.

“I am the boss.” Figures with that attitude.

“Nice. So much for southern hospitality.” He uses the towel on his shoulder to clean up the spill as he smirks.

“Welcome to Texas,” he mutters as the crowd cheers again.

I don’t bother turning, knowing the girl riding the bull has probably wiped out.

“Must be a popular thing around here,” I comment as I sip the water this time.

“Everyone wants a ride on Big Red.” The guy shakes his head in disappointment, I think.

“Is that the bull?” I’m confused why he’d be upset.

The place is crowded, and it sure as shit isn’t for the great service or music.

“Nope, it’s me.” A deep, gravelly voice says behind me, and the hairs on the back of my neck stand up.

Slowly I turn and meet the guy with the fantastic ass face to face.

My tongue sticks to the roof of my mouth, and for the first time in my life, I have no witty comeback. I can hear the bartender chuckle.

“I’ll go grab your order. Behave Red. You’ve caused enough of a mess here tonight.” The way they speak to each other implies a close friendship, but the more I stare, the more I can see a family resemblance.

Brothers?

A group of girls rushes him and tries to pull him away, but he hasn’t even blinked or acknowledged them. He’s still staring right into my eyes, and the strange intimacy is making me squirm.

“You busy tonight, Red?” A young blonde girl hangs on his arm, and he shakes her off like she’s a pest.

“Yes,” that’s it.

One word without blinking or looking away from me to her. She’s totally and utterly dismissed like last week’s trash. And the girls run off, giggling as if grateful for the privilege of being in his presence.

Oh, hell no.

“That was rude. She actually wanted your attention.” I turn my back to him and take another sip of water.

He takes the empty seat to my left and places his cowboy hat on the bartop.

Don’t look. DO NOT LOOK.

Of course, he’s fucking bald! There go my panties. FUCK.

You are in a committed relationship. Stop being a hussy.

Time to deflect.

“So everyone gets a ride, huh? Where I’m from, there’s a word for people like you.” He cracks a grin and turns his body into me.

He leans in slightly like the music is too loud for me to hear him.

“Fun?” he whispers in my ear.

I suppress the shiver that runs straight down my back to my toes.

“Loose.” I turn to smirk, misjudging how close we are.

He smiles as if I gave him the reaction he wanted. BASTARD.

“Better than whore, I guess. Regardless, I’m worth the headache.” I roll my eyes and turn away.

“I highly doubt that.” I sip my water until the glass is drained dry.

“We could see in the morning, Sugar.” Did he just proposition me?

“I’m good.” The bartender arrives with my fries and holds them between us as he looks at us.

“Everything ok here?” Red stands and takes his hat, leaving without saying another word.

“Um, can I ask what that was about?” I pop a fry in my mouth and shrug.

“I think he offered to fuck me in Texan, and I said no in New York.” He laughs as I devour my fries and think about the whole interaction.

Burning chemistry hotter than the core of the sun. The sex would be so dangerously good we’d probably kill each other.

I gotta avoid him at all costs.