The sultry summer air wrapped around them when they got out of the car in front of the bar. Bree stepped up onto the large, covered wood deck the bar took its name from. Small groups and couples lounged against the wood railing. Denise pulled open one of the double doors, sidestepped to allow a couple to exit, and led the way over the threshold. They stopped just inside the front door and showed their IDs to the bouncer. He gave them a once over, dragging his gaze down their bodies and back up, his expression inscrutable.
Bree looked down at her feet, then back at the bouncer. “What?” Bree asked.
He smirked and handed their IDs back. “Have a good night.”
Denise tucked her ID in her back pocket. “What was that about?”
“I have no idea.”
The Deck had an old barn feel to it — wide open with lots of wood and sawdust on the floor. To the right of where they stood, a small U-shaped bar was set up for patrons to watch the TVs hanging over the bar. To the left, an area with tables and chairs for the restaurant, which was closed. The back half of the building was mostly open with round, high-top tables and stools positioned along one side of the room, with another bar running along the opposite side. Large garage doors opened onto the deck at the back of the building, and a large fenced-in courtyard made the building appear even larger.
“Front bar or back bar?” Denise asked.
Bree glanced to her right. Almost every stool was occupied. “Let’s go to the back bar.”
Bree threaded her way through the throng of denim- and leather-clad bodies. Every few steps, she shook a foot to dislodge the sawdust that had worked its way between the soles of her feet and thin flip-flops.
Denise leaned close to her ear to be heard over the loud rock music. “We seem to have missed the memo on the dress code.”
“You mean you don’t subscribe to the Ladies of Leather newsletter?” Bree asked over her shoulder.
“Just imagine how many cows had to die to make all the leather these people are wearing. We are way underdressed.”
“Better than being overdressed, I think.”
“Probably.”
Bree stopped short, causing Denise to run into her.
Holy hotness, Batman.“Oh my god. I just creamed my panties.” Bree nudged Denise and tilted her head in the direction she was looking.
“Sweet, merciful Jesus, that man is a walking orgasm. How tall do you think he is?”
Bree’s eyes traveled down the well-muscled expanse of chest to lean hips, slouchy jeans, and scuffed boots. “I don’t know…six-three? Six-four, maybe?”
“You could wear heels and not have to worry about bending over to kiss him.”
“I’m pretty sure that’s one of the reasons I was going to break up with Chad. All my heels are four inches.”
“Just like Chad,” Denise said.
“Erect Chad.” Bree tore her gaze away from the walking orgasm. They stared at each other a moment and burst out laughing.
“Oh my god, we crack me up.” Denise wiped at the tears in her eyes.
Bree grabbed Denise’s hand. “Come on, let’s get a drink.”
“You’re buying, just so you know.”
“How am I buying? I’m the one who has to buy a new mattress,” Bree asked.
“One, you’re loaded. Two, because you dragged us out looking like shite, but I will concede your point. First round is on me.”
“How very gracious of you,” Bree replied.
Carlos nodded toward the door. “Check it.”
Two women stood toward the front of the bar, heads thrown back, laughing and holding onto each other. They stood out in their causal clothes as if they’d given little thought to their appearance. The redhead caught his attention. Her smile sparkled, full of joy. Full of life. They wove through the crowd close to the bar. When they reached it, she hiked up a leg and rested her foot on the bar close to the floor. He caught a glimpse of long legs and nicely rounded ass before someone stepped in the way.
