Mo smirks. “Yeah. That’s what I thought.”
Callie
Be still, my heretofore untouched pussy. The nerdy tattooed cowboy speaks, and he’s even hotter up close. Hot doesn’t even seem like an adequate word for this man. His long-ish, dark blonde hair has more curl to it than I realized, and those green eyes sparkle like emeralds behind his tortoiseshell glasses.
He snags his black cowboy hat from the side table and places it atop his head. If I thought he couldn’t get any fucking hotter, I was dead ass wrong. I’m not an equestrian, but… save a horse and all that.
“Let’s go before you two maul each other,” Mo says derisively. They lead the way through the stacks, bee-lining to the exit. “I’m Mo, I’ll be your third wheel for the evening. Feel free to follow me outside once you stop eye fucking each other. Keep your hands and tongues to yourselves until I have at least one drink in my system, please and thank you.”
Jaxon chuckles behind me, and that sound sends a chill coursing through me. What I wouldn’t give for that man to talk me through some self-care on my favorite spicy audio app. I fleetingly wonder if he’s ever done something like that, or if he’s vocal in the bedroom.
My thoughts are short-lived when we step out onto the street, and the frigid winter air simultaneously smacks me in the face and steals my breath. It’s what I imagine a hurricane shot feels like, but decidedly less sexy.
Jax rattles his keys and gestures to the vintage blue Chevy truck parked across the street. “If we’re all drinking, it’s probably best if we pile into one vehicle and Uber home separately.”
“You think we’re gonna get inthat?” Mo asks.
“She’s safe, I can assure you.”
“The fact that you’ve gendered your truck at all is concerning.”
“Will you two cut it out?” I say. “Come on, Mo. I’ll sit in the middle, so you don’t try to kill each other.”
Jaxon grins. “Don’t worry. I don’t bite… hard.”
