Chapter One
Luke: Three Months Ago
“Luke!”
I hear my name being yelled from the front of the house, the bar area. I know the voice. Quinn Maxwell, my newest hire, is calling for me. No doubt it’s gotten busier since I’ve been holed up in my tiny office. She’s got some dude in town from overseas who seems to be drawing a crowd. I’d better get out there.
“Yeah?” I say as I walk through the doorway wiping my hands on the bar towel that’s always over my shoulder. The minute I spot Quinn, I give her a small smile.
“I want to introduce you to my best friend. A best friend I will never give free drinks to.” Quinn pauses. “Promise.”
Yeah, right. They always say shit like that, and they always give away beer to their “best friends.” Ignoring my thoughts, I look left and spot her. My throat gets a little dry. Walking slowly up to the bar, I say, “Does your beautiful friend have a name?”
“Tayler,” the gorgeous redhead says, holding her tiny hand out to me. “We’ve met, though.”
My voice feels dry, scratchy. She’s caught me a bit off guard, to be honest, because of course I recognize her. “I know. You were here last Wednesday.”
“I… uh, yes, I was.”
“You’ve also been here a number of times with a man.” A short twerp who always had his eyes on other chicks. The fucking idiot.
Quinn responds quickly. “Her ex. He cheated on her. Can you believe that?”
“No.” I stare at Tayler. She’s probably the most beautiful girl I’ve ever seen with her pale complexion and those freckles. But even though she has sweet features, there’s more to her than that. The woman is sexy as hell. “He’s a fucking idiot.”
“Right?” Quinn says, then laughs.
Ignoring her, I lean over the bar so I can get a little closer to Tayler just as she leans in closer to me.
This is getting good.
“Welp, I guess I’ll move along.” Quinn laughs again, then heads off to help another customer.
“So, Tayler,” I say in my sexiest voice. “What’re you doing later?”
“Ah, well….” She smiles, and it’s so pure and real, it kind of takes my breath away for a second. “I’ve got a paper to write.”
I give her my very best come-hither smirk. “Homework, really? You’d rather do homework than come home with me?” I’m not sure why I said that. I never take anyone home. I always go home with them; that way, I can do what I need to do and leave.
“I’m not that kind of girl,” she says sweetly.
I’m about to laugh at her words because I’ve heard that line before, but this is the first time I believe it. “You’re not, are you?”
She shakes her head slowly. “Nope.”
Well, shit. Now what? “You’re serious.”
She nods. “I am.”
This is surreal. First of all, I rarely proposition women. They do all the work up front. No, this is new. “Can I get your number?” I ask, and it surprises me. I don’t take numbers. I don’t give mine out either. Usually.
She tilts her pretty head to the side and blinks a few times. “Why?”
Why? She’s asking why? “So I can call you.”
“What would we talk about?” She’s giving me her own smirk.
“Stuff.” I mean, seriously? What I’d like to talk about is the many ways I want to fuck this girl, but I’m guessing that’s not going to fly. “Maybe I can talk you into—”
