Chapter One
“Is this seat taken?”
Hope Mackenzie raised her eyes from the skewer of olives she was pushing around in the dirty martini that sat in front of her. Giving the guy a halfhearted smile, she shook her head. He flashed her a grin before lowering his frame into the seat directly to her right.
He was moderately attractive, in ahis-wife-picks-out-his-clothesor aprobably-lives-in-his-momma’s-basement, sort of way.
Her shoulders sagged dejectedly. Not that she had any room to talk. She’d probably be living inhermomma’s basement again in another few weeks, if she couldn’t find a new apartment.
She resumed idly playing with the olives in her glass as he ordered a beer. The fancy hotel bar was bustling, but surprisingly not crowded for a Friday evening in the heart of Chicago. The lighting was dim, intimate. Glancing up and down the polished bar, she noticed several other empty seats on either side of her. He pivoted in his seat, angling his body toward hers. She sighed and braced herself, glancing down at his handthat was loosely clasped around the frosted draft beer glass. She rolled her eyes. Of course.
“I’m in town for a marketing seminar,” the guy said conversationally, bringing his beer to his mouth. She didn’t respond, not even pretending to listen. “Dirty martini, huh?”
She nodded once. Scanning the room around her, she watched as a man with dark, silver-streaked hair took a seat at the far end of the L shaped bar. The bartender made his way over to the newcomer. Moments later a highball glass with several inches of bourbon was passed across the bar to him. His long, wide fingers wrapped around the crystal glass and raised it to his lips. A thick, dark beard covered the lower portion of his face and jaw, and dark, penetrating eyes met hers as he took a drink of the bourbon. The man was a beast. Thick and barrel chested, his arms looked to be the size of her thighs… and her thighs were anything but small. Muscles rippled beneath the dark button-down shirt he wore, straining against the material.Holy shit.Something fluttered in her belly.
“Is that the only thing you like dirty?” the man next to her asked, bringing her attention back to him, and she raised her eyebrows in surprise at his forwardness.
“Do you routinely attempt to pick up random women at hotel bars?” she asked, raising her eyes to his, her voice flat. She nodded to his left hand, indicating the indent on his third finger that she had noticed earlier. Stupid fucker. “Does your wife know you’re a cheating snake?”
His fingers flexed where they sat on the bar then curled into a fist. It’s possible she read it wrong, and the reason he didn’t have the ring on was the same reason her own engagement ring wasn’t decorating her finger any longer. When she raised her eyes to his again, they flashed with annoyance, and she raised an eyebrow. No, her first guess was definitely correct, which he confirmed. “What she doesn’t know won’t hurt her.”
She scoffed and turned to face forward again, picking up her martini. “Get lost, Skippy.”
“You—”
“Hey, baby girl,” a deep, husky voice murmured from behind her, a second before a hand drifted over the nape of her neck, making her shiver. “Sorry I’m late.”
Hope raised her eyes and was struck speechless when she recognized the man from the other end of the bar. He was so much bigger up close. Like a tank. Or a bear. Or a bear riding a tank.
His dark, coffee brown eyes crinkled at the corners as he bestowed a knowing smile on her. Butterflies exploded in her belly, and the fingers at the nape of her neck strummed lightly. Then, those brown eyes shifted from hers to the man on the other side of her, and the coolness that filled them made her shiver again.
“This guy bothering you, baby girl?” he asked roughly, leaning his other elbow on the surface of the bar. The heady, citrus and cedarwood scent of him filled her senses. A dark, navy-blue shirt was buttoned down his broad chest. The top two buttons had been left undone, revealing several inches of tanned throat and chest. Crinkly, salt and pepper chest hair was visible in the opening, and she vaguely wondered if it was as soft as it looked. She blinked rapidly to dispel the intrusive thought.
Holy shit he’s hot, she thought dazedly as she raised her eyes to his again.
“I was just sending him home to his wife,” she murmured, and the breathiness of her voice made her blush to the roots of her blonde hair. “Isn’t that right, Skippy?”
The other man rolled his eyes and stood from the chair, the legs scraping noisily on the polished floor. “Bitch,” he muttered as he made to walk away.
“You wanna try that again?” another deep voice said, and Hope turned in her seat to see a tall blonde man stopped directly in front of Skippy. “You will apologize to our lady.”
“Yours?” Skippy asked, shock making his voice come out higher, his eyes bouncing from one man to the other, to hers, and then back again. “Both of you?”
Hope’s heart thudded in her chest, her breaths coming out choppy. She swallowed hard. The blonde’s eyes left Skippy’s and found hers, a deep, emerald green the likes she’d never seen before. He had a clean-shaven face and a jawline that she wanted to run her fingers over. He wore a starched white, button-down shirt with the sleeves rolled to his elbows. Tattoos peeked out along his forearms. Black slacks fit his long legs.
Double holy shit.
“Mmmm,” the blonde only murmured, before returning his gaze to Skippy. “Apologize to the lady. Now.”
Skippy scoffed low in his throat and made to walk away but was brought up short when Blonde Henry Cavill gripped his elbow.
“Jesus. Sorry, lady,” Skippy muttered sourly, yanking his arm out of the blonde Vikings hands. He walked away, leaving her with two of the hottest men she’d ever seen. Tall-Dark-and-Broody’s fingers were still strumming along the nape of her neck as Mr. Steal-Your-Girl stepped forward into the space Skippy had vacated. The bartender stopped in front of them, asking for Blondies drink order, and he leaned in close to accept the drink that the bartender passed him a moment later. The smell of olive oil and lemon drifted off of him. He smelled good enough to eat.
A strange mix of fear and excitement skittered along her nerves. She knew enough to be wary of them… but she felt oddly safe with them, too. Heat spread along every nerve, skittering across her skin like tiny currents. She felt more alive than she had in a long time.
This is how women go missing, Hope, she thought to herself, glancing up at them both again.
Tall-Dark-and-Bearded finally pulled his hand away from the nape of her neck and flashed her a smile. “Sorry. I hope we didn’t ruin your evening.”
