Total pages in book: 76
Estimated words: 73094 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 365(@200wpm)___ 292(@250wpm)___ 244(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 73094 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 365(@200wpm)___ 292(@250wpm)___ 244(@300wpm)
“That’s how it’s done,” he said, and people applauded and cheered. I was breathing heavily now, and as the two guys helped bring me back down onto the table, my world went dizzy for a moment.
I smiled through it as my ass came down onto the top of the table. I pumped my fist in the air. People in the crowd hollered more, coming over to me, gripping my shoulder, telling me I was a king.
Yeah. Definitely shouldn’t have done that.
The liquor immediately started to hit my blood.
After the dizziness had passed and the blood had rushed back down from my head, I clapped my hands together, standing up on top of the table upright this time. I looked out over everyone on the patio, feeling like I was on my own little stage.
“Round of drinks on me,” I said as loud as I could over the music. “For everyone out here. Let’s get summer started off right—can I get a hell yeah?”
Everyone on the patio screamed it back, some of them pumping their fists in the air. “Hell yeah!”
Well.
Everyone except one person.
That same guy across from me, in a leather jacket. Bold choice for a summer night.
He was sitting at a table against the brick exterior of the bar, near the doors that led inside. There was no chance I’d ever seen him before. Tall, looked like an off-duty movie star, and definitely someone I would have noticed if he were a Hard Spot regular. He was staring out past the vines that hung down over the patio roof, toward the cluster of trees behind the bar.
He gave me an uninterested glance after my stunt, and I went a little hot, feeling like I’d been caught staring at something I shouldn’t have been.
I got down off the patio table and got lost in the crowd. I was pulled into hugs, given fist bumps and high-fives, and one big burly guy even kissed the top of my head, calling me the highlight of his night. But I kept glancing over at the guy in the jacket, his lack of a reaction sticking in my side like a thorn.
When I watched him slip inside, I headed in after. I searched the room for leather.
For a second I was pretty sure the guy must have left, but then I landed on him, tucked at one end of the bar and leaning on the weathered oak. He was under one of the hanging lights above the bar, his dark brown hair shining as he looked at the polished chrome beer taps.
The Hard Spot had a big, U-shaped bar inside, and as I walked over I was hit with the smell of beer and the chatter of a dozen different conversations. Kane had worked to transform the Hard Spot into the friendliest local bar in Bestens—the building used to be an old independent bookstore that had gone out of business, and it still had plenty of alcoves lined with floor-to-ceiling built-in bookshelves. Kane fashioned it into a saloon years ago, and now the inside was all dark wood, pool tables, and Tennessee charm.
I’d been here too much over the last year. Spending my nights in and out of this bar, wishing things were different and searching for something that I could never quite find.
I approached the new guy, and was surprised when he spoke to me first.
“Was wondering if you’d follow me in.”
He said it as I reached his side, but he didn’t bother turning to look at me.
Shit. Was I that obvious?
He was too clean—definitely not someone who just came in from one of the local farms.
“Just wanted to make sure you were okay,” I told him. “You didn’t seem to enjoy my little stunt.”
“And you kept looking at me for approval every five seconds.”
I puffed out a laugh but I didn’t know if he was actually joking or not. “Didn’t think you noticed.”
He still didn’t look at me, instead glancing up at the racks of liquor behind the bar. “You were doing a handstand. Pretty hard to miss, cowboy. Looked like you were about to cry when I left to go inside.”
I frowned.
Did I?
I chewed the inside of my cheek. “You closing out your tab, or can I buy you a drink?”
His eyes finally landed on me, green and radiant.
My stomach dropped a little. He had the kind of striking eyes that looked like they belonged in a famous black-and-white photograph somewhere, not right here in a normal bar in front of me, waiting for me to react.
I couldn’t tell if he was staring into my soul or about to tell me to fuck off.
“No thanks,” he said in his deep baritone. His eyes lingered on me a moment longer. “I’m not drinking tonight. Driving.”
The back of my neck slowly heated under his gaze.