Tatum tilts his head. Being the more levelheaded one of the two, he knows I am switching the attention off me because of River.
“Since we added the new Christmas menu like Mom suggested, things have been busy. Most lunch hours we are filled to the brim. People like simple yet tasty Christmas favorites,” Tristan offers.
“That is good, right?”
“Fuck yeah. Chicks are now coming in on their lunch break, so we get a little action.” He wiggles his eyebrows, making me chuckle at him.
Both he and Cormac are like fucking horndogs. Huxley is more reserved, like Ridley, but the twins and Cormac fuck anything that smiles at them or flashes a set of tits.
“We spoke to Susan down at the inn, and she said that she is fully booked right through to the end of January. So, tourism is up big time. Our little town is raking in the cash, brother.”
“Old man Davy said the same thing. His store has had to order more stock to keep up with demand,” Tatum adds.
“Silverpine is the perfect place to be to celebrate Christmas.”
As the boys carry on talking, I lean against my stool, half an ass cheek on it, while I watch the game playing on the TV that is closest to us.
There are eleven TVs around the bar in total. They mostly play different sports, but some play the same game, depending on how popular that game is.
My shoulders feel tight, and I know that a good long ride on my 2020 Harley-Davidson Softail is needed, and soon. Tension has been a daily thing for me the last few weeks; in fact, ever since I had a dream about fucking River and a faceless man.
The dream still lingers with me, days after I woke up coming all over myself.
The hair on the back of my neck stands on end, and my body coils, sensing him before I see him.
I straighten my spine and look across the room to see River walking toward the bar with his friends close behind him.
“Speak of the devil.” I ignore Ridley, my gaze tracking River.
He walks with so much confidence, and why shouldn’t he? He is fucking gorgeous.
River is wearing light-green pants that are just tight enough to hug his thighs, and a satin shirt with flowers on it, the buttons open down to his sternum.
I trace his body with my gaze, taking in every sweet inch of him, wishing I could touch him in ways that I have only dreamed about.
With a honed focus, I watch as he orders a drink, leaning across the bar to talk to the bartender. As they smile and flirt, my grip on my pool stick tightens. He is not mine; he can flirt with and fuck whoever he wants.
Fucking hell.
As if he can sense my stare and anger, River, with his forearms still on the bar top, turns his head, looking over his shoulder. His pale green eyes meet mine, and a smirk moves across his kissable lips.
He holds my gaze for what feels like hours, then he turns to speak to his friend, picks up his drink, and starts walking in my direction. I watch as he steps toward me, my dick half swelling in my pants.
Someone pushes their chair out, colliding with his hip, and I am on my feet before I can stop myself.
“Be fucking careful,” I growl down at the fuckhead who knocked River.
With wide fearful eyes, he stutters an apology.
“Are you okay? You should be more careful where you are walking. Fuck, I bet your hip will bruise,” I force out.
Hating the idea of his creamy skin being marked by anyone but me, my blood boils. Glaring at the guy again, I growl and he jumps up, running from the bar. A hand on my chest draws my attention from the prick, and looking down at River, he smiles wide, arousal in his eyes.
“Now that was hot as fuck, Colt, baby, but I am perfectly okay.”
I blink at his words, stepping back, and I see the light in his eyes dim a little. I feel like a cunt for doing that, but in true River fashion, he brushes it off and smiles wide, turning on his flirty charm and heading toward my brothers.
“Fuck me, this is going to be a long night,” I mutter as I check out how amazing his ass looks in those pants.
