Avery threw her head back in laughter as Mac grinned her approval. It’d been a while since Willow had let loose like this, setting out for an evening with the sole purpose of getting good and drunk. It’d been a while since she’dneededto. The main focus of her frustration was usually relegated to her daddy or Rory, and she’d had years of practice dealing with those two. This week had been the usual multiplied by seven thousand, and it’d left her floundering.
As Mac launched into a rant about the lack of available men in Havenbrook and her dismal dating life, Willow glanced around the bar, her gaze skating over the swarm of bodies stacked upon each other, the space having filled up even more since they’d arrived. As she sucked the last bit of her drink through the straw, her eyes skittered over a trio standing by the front door, then snapped back, her body stiffening as she took in who’d just walked into the space. Even thirty feet away, there was no mistaking exactly who it was. There was also no mistaking the way her stomach bottomed out at the same time her heart started galloping like a racehorse.
Finn stood by the door, Nola and Drew on either side of him. As he surveyed the room, Willow took the opportunity to surveyhim, the unabashed ogling something she’d tried to rein in when he’d been in her office and had been watching her. Now she had the opportunity to stare with him unaware.
His hair was mussed, like he’d been running his hand through it. The scruff on his jaw had grown in even more since the other day, and she nearly sat on her hands to hold back the urge she had to feel it against her palms. He was casual in a white T-shirt, the material clinging to huge muscles that looked both strange and completely at home on his frame. He tucked his hand into the pocket of the dark jeans hanging low on his slim hips, causing Willow’s eyes to trail all the way down his body.
“Hello?” Mac snapped her fingers in Willow’s face. “What’s got your attention?” Before waiting for Willow to answer, she looked over her shoulder, her head snapping back almost immediately. “Well, shit.”
“What? What’s up?” Avery asked, turning in the direction Mac had looked. Once she spotted who they’d been looking at, she whistled low. “Damn. Looks like we picked the wrong place to drink.”
“What do you want, Will? You wanna leave?” Mac asked, setting her empty bottle on the table. “We can try Rudy’s instead?”
Rudy’s was a dive bar a few miles farther down the road, just a bar top and some high tables inside, no frivolous extras—like clean bathrooms—to be seen. It was a place you went strictly to get shit-faced. And while that sounded pretty good right about now, Willow’s drink was already working its magic, the alcohol flowing through her veins. She’d spent the past several days avoiding Finn, staying holed up in her house or her office. But she’d be damned if she let him run her out of here too.
“What I want,” Willow said, tearing her eyes away from Finn, “is another drink.”
Avery and Mac exchanged a look, then Avery nodded. “You got it, sweetcheeks. Be right back.”
One thing Avery had mastered was getting the bartender’s attention almost immediately, her cleavage going a long way to shorten the time frame. Less than five minutes later, Willow had another Long Island Iced Tea in her hand.
She worked hard to avoid tracking Finn’s movements, instead counting on Mac and Avery to take care of it for her. Every once in a while, she’d catch Mac’s eyes narrowed at some place over Willow’s shoulder, but she never looked. Told herself she didn’t want to. Didn’t need to. She was here to have fun, and she wasn’t going to let Finn Thomas ruin that for her.
“You ready to move this out on the dance floor?” Avery asked as Willow finished her second drink.
Willow scrunched up her nose, the tingly sensation from her lips having spread to most of her face. “Maybe.”
“If there’s one thing that’ll get your mind off this week, it’s a hot man who rocks a cowboy hat and whose ass looks sinful in a pair of jeans.”
Willow laughed, trying to suck up one last sip of her drink. “That was oddly specific.”
“Yeah, well, prepare yourself. Mr. Oddly Specific is headed this way.”
A few seconds later, three guys surrounded their table. Every one of them was a good-looking country boy—and each of them knew it too.
“Evenin’, ladies,” the first guy said, tipping his hat. “How ’bout y’all come out and dance with us.”
It wasn’t a question but rather a statement, cockiness rolling off him in waves. Arrogance usually turned Willow off, but it wasn’t like she was going to start dating the guy. Hell, she wasn’t even going to take him home for a night of fun. She’d come here to forget about Finn and the mess he’d tossed back on her doorstep. Alcohol went a long way toward helping her do that. Dancing with this guy would go even further.
Avery and Mac deferred to her, and after a short nod from Willow, the girls both grinned, hopping off their stools and leading the way to the dance floor. Mr. Oddly Specific settled in behind Willow, his hands on her hips as the band played a current radio hit. His body was a little too close for her liking, but she ignored it, instead focusing on letting the music flow through her. She raised her hands above her head, swiveling her hips to the beat as she closed her eyes and tried to forget the fact that her ex-boyfriend hadn’t fled Havenbrook like she’d assumed he would. Tried to ignore the fact that he was mere feet from her, somewhere in the bar.
Tried to ignore the way her nipples tightened at the thought, a low hum running through her body, the tattoo at her hip tingling with memories.
Moments later, she knew exactly why her body was buzzing. Even though she didn’t look behind her, she recognized the second Finn replaced Mr. Oddly Specific at her back. The air around her grew charged, the fresh scent of him wrapping around her like her favorite childhood blanket. How, after so long, did he still smell the same? More importantly, how did sheremember? And why did it transport her back to years ago, to memories of sunsets watched from the bed of his old truck, long walks along forgotten trails, and hidden moments in her childhood tree house, every single one of them heavily weighted with comfort and security?
Finn didn’t say anything, didn’t announce his arrival or that he’d somehow gotten rid of the other guy, just placed his hands on her hips, exactly as the man before him had.
But this felt different. Though it always had with Finn.
Heat spread through Willow’s body, pooling low in her belly. For all intents and purposes, Finn’s touch was chaste. His hands rested over the denim of her shorts, and though she could feel the heat of him against her back, none of his body touched hers. And yet even with that minuscule touch of just his hands against her, it lit her up more than some men had been able to do while lying naked beside her.
It was the first touch the two of them had shared in years, and her body warred with itself, half of her wanting to flee, to find Mac and Avery and get the hell out of the bar. But the other half wanted to press back against him, wanted to lean into him and feel those newly developed muscles along her back. Wanted to pretend for a while they didn’t have history, that he hadn’t stomped on her heart. That she wasn’t the brokenhearted sweetheart of Havenbrook. Wanted to pretend he was just some guy who could make her body hum simply by his presence.
So that was exactly what she did.
She continued dancing like she hadn’t noticed the change in partner, though how she managed was a damn miracle because her entire body felt like it was on fire. Finn kept his touch subtle, but the tips of his fingers scorched her even through the layers of fabric separating their skin. And even though she was burning up inside, feeling like there was a neon arrow above her head, pointing straight down at her, the people around her were oblivious. Avery and Mac were somewhere on the dance floor, though she couldn’t see them. Which was probably for the better. If either of them saw her and Finn dancing together, they’d drag her out by her hair.
When the music switched to a slower, grittier song, the undercurrent of the beat and lyrics blatantly sexual, she and Finn didn’t pull apart. Instead, he closed the last couple of inches between them, settling along her back as he slid an arm around her waist and tugged her against him, brushing his palm across her stomach along the way.
