Part 10 (2/2)

He drops two twenties on the bar, and he and his buddy somehow grab the four beers and four shots of Irish whiskey and head back to their table of cronies.

”Douchebag,” I mutter, snagging the cash off the bar.

”C'mon.”

”Jade, leave it.”

”Boyfriend?”

I shoot her a look. ”I'm fairly positive my s.e.xual orientation has been made abundantly obvious by now.”

She snorts. ”Not yours, tool, I mean the boyfriend of whatever s.k.a.n.k you banged.”

”Isn't it against your feminist code to be s.l.u.t-shaming like that?”

”If it walks like a duck and f.u.c.ks its way through the entire male population of Shelter Harbor like a duck...”

”This duck have a number?”

She grins and rolls her eyes. ”Not going to tell me are you?”

”Wasn't planning on it.”

”Anything to do with the huge dude who I saw you talking to out back the other night with that church girl?”

”Nope.”

”Right, so who was that?”

”Jade, f.u.c.k. A beer delivery guy, I don't know.”

”They deliver pretty late now, huh?”

I ignore her.

”Seemed a little past church girl's bedtime, too. Little late for her to be slumming around the backdoor of a place like this with a dude like you.”

”You going to pour drinks or keep quizzing and insulting me?”

She rolls her eyes again before she turns and smiles at a couple of men who are wildly misreading her body language.

Except, Jade's at least half right. About the Eva part at least. It was too late for me to be bringing her around here. It was too late to have her out alone, just the two of us, and her looking like, well, like she does.

Because the thing is, I'm not sure how not to flirt with a girl that catches my eye like she does. However forbidden, however off-f.u.c.king-limits Evangeline Ellis is, I can't seem to just shut the f.u.c.k up and leave it be around her.

Throw in driving home side-by-side in the pickup, the windows down, the early fall breeze blowing in and tussling her blonde hair, and the moon just catching her face?

Forget it.

Throw in her literally dropping into my arms ten minutes before, her body tight against mine and her hands on my skin, and it's a lost cause.

I'd been rock hard the whole d.a.m.n drive back to the rental house. This sweet, sinfully, untouchable piece of temptation sitting in the truck next to me.

Any other situation in the world, or any other girl? Done deal. She'd have been home two hours later after I f.u.c.ked her eight different ways all over that truck.

Clearly not the case with Eva Ellis.

Not even f.u.c.king close.

Besides the fact that she's clearly not the kind of girl who goes for the c.o.c.ky, filthy-talking type like me, I'm actually curious what kind of guy she goes for.

If any.

There's also the part where my dad would kill me. Not literally, but he and I have taken years to get back to good after my whole bulls.h.i.+t when I was younger. s.c.r.e.w.i.n.g around with his friend's daughter? Not high on the good graces list.

Then there's Leonard Ellis. I don't know Eva's dad, but I do know that fanatical look in his eyes. I've never bought into religion much, not even with my dad being a minister. But he's on the tamer, ”religion is humanism” side of things. Leonard? Leonard's a true believer. A bible-thumping, sulfur and brimstone and h.e.l.l-fire kinda guy.

I'm not sure if he'd actually kill me or not.

In any case, it's a moot point. Eva is not the kind of girl I go for, and I'm certainly not the kind of guy she gets with. So fantasy - a filthy, totally off-limits fantasy she remains.

”What're you drinking?”

I'm cranking through orders, and I don't even look up as I say it to whoever is next in the crowd.

”Hey stranger.”

I freeze.

Now there's a voice I know - a voice, I might add, that is staggeringly appropriate to hear right now given my conversation five seconds ago with Jade concerning boyfriends of s.k.a.n.ks I banged and punches to my head.

I slowly look up, and lock eyes with Fiona.

Red lips, raven hair, t.i.ts falling out of the way-too-tiny tank top she's wearing, and that G.o.dd.a.m.ned constant look of smugness on her face. It's the look of a girl who is very used to getting her way with men.

It's the look of a girl who is very used to getting her way with me, actually.

”What are you doing here, Fiona?”

”Heard there was this hot bartender workin' here that would put out.”

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